Pollyanna. A hard-wired optimist. Instinctively looking for the good, the unique, the opportunity in every situation.
Ninety-eightpercentofthetime, this is me. Finding the proverbial silver lining.
It’s that blasted 2% … often triggered by crap self-care during periods of extreme stress … waking up to the stark dark of night, in the silent hours when manic melancholy seeps in through an exposed vulnerability and attempts to curl its way, unbidden and unwelcome, around the hope harbored in my heart; staying awake, thinking of nothing, anything, everything … struggling, really struggling … that 2% when I don’t want to be strong or get over it and move on, when I don’t like Pollyanna very much…
When I was young, I experienced several fairly significant events in which the reactions/responses from people whose opinion of me desperately mattered taught me to conceal the 2%; convinced me to put on a smile and fake my way through it. “Really,” the self-talk ticker-tape said, “nobody wants or needs to know. It’s not important to anyone but you.” And so, I got good at camouflaging the 2%. So much so, that I inadvertently trained people to expect this of me, and me to expect it of myself: Pollyanna always on point.
The year I turned 40, as I was emerging from a particularly horrific bout of Busted Pollyanna, I shared some of the particulars of my milestone confliction with a trusted friend. It’s just a number, 40; numbers are relative. And I’ve never felt my age. Not really. No, it wasn’t about the number. It was the milestone. While I can honestly and appreciatively say I’d accomplished some amazing things to that point in my life, I thought I would have more to show achieved different things by then.
Her reaction? Strong. Immediate. T.H.R.I.L.L.E.D. “Where are we going to GO!?!” Her eyes lit up with her gleeful smile. “This is fantastic. It should be celebrated!!”
One question. Unbridled, unapologetic excitement. It shocked me. Literally, in that instant, shocked me out of gloom, despair (“and misery on me, oh-oh-oh-ah-oh”) back to a significantly better head space.
After that critical, pivotal conversation, we planned said celebratory trip (somewhere requiring a passport stamp!). I published my Bucket List, put a timer on it, and achieved enough things that I’m now on Bucket 2.0. Not only did I become excited about embracing and owning the decade, I took my birthday off, planned an outing, and to my extreme delight persuaded several friends to play hooky with me. [Note to self: do that again. Group Hooky is fun!]
Words, indeed, matter. Words are not just abstract concepts but have tangible effects on our brain and body. They can influence our mental and physical health, stress levels, and overall well-being. They have meaning and value. And therein lies their power. They can shape opinions, perspectives, world views. They can hurt, gouge, maim, destroy. But they can just as easily admire, encourage, praise, and uplift.
Showing up matters. Being present–for yourself or for someone else–can be the one thing that interrupts a downward spiral. A cup of coffee, an ear to hear (or shoulder to drench), simply giving yourself permission to feel the feels … it all makes a difference.
Following up matters. People feel seen when they feel heard. And they feel valued when they feel affirmed. If someone entrusts you with their 2%, look for ways to celebrate their 98%. It’s amazing what a little extra, external consideration can do.
Not everyone is an unrepentant optimist. But who you are (besides legit amazing) might be the Piglet to someone else’s Pooh. Your last or next conversation may just be interrupting someone’s 2%.
Points to Ponder: Consider your alter-ego.
- How are you hard-wired? In other words, how do you routinely show up in life (98% of the time)?
- What kicks you over into your 2%, and do you recognize it when it happens?
- What’s your 98% nickname?
Actionable Application: If you’ve had a 2% conversation recently, what’s one thing you can do to follow up?
Seize the opportunity. Speak life. http://youtu.be/ZeBv9r92VQ0