Maybe there’s something to all this positivity crap after all

This year has been bananas. From my husband and I taking over the college we’re running and all the ups and downs of that wild ride, to getting my boy through elementary school, and my girl set up for the right high school, we’ve barely had a break. Add to that some major financial stress, an impending move, and two dogs who need a walk and it’s no wonder that there’s a symphony of sighs every morning as my husband and I get ready for the day ahead.

But just last week I felt excited. There was a fluttery feeling in my gut like something great was about to happen. It came on suddenly during a drive when I wasn’t really thinking about anything in particular other than the beautiful day before me.

Then this week there was another feeling, a peaceful knowing that maybe, despite all the evidence that the world is heading to hell in a handbasket, it’s all going to be okay.

I’ve had these feeling before, but this time it’s different. There’s no “real” item to tie to and each feeling persists long after my attempts to question its source or veracity. It’s weird, these sensations, but not at all uncomfortable, despite my predilections towards anxiety and despair.

But maybe this is the culmination of what I’ve been working towards for so long?

Growing up, my mother was like a constant rain cloud, always able to point out the negative in any situation, interrupted only by ferocious storms of rage, or the fogginess of abandonment. Positivity was smote immediately at first whiff. My enjoyment of anything; a song, a bird, the day ahead, was a reason to remind me of my false appraisal. “That singer is terrible,” “Those birds make a mess,” “What are you so happy about? There’s children dying in Europe!”

Positivity, like satisfaction, calm, love, or happiness was a dangerous dangerous thing.

Yet, despite of these dangers, I persisted. It’s taken decades of deprogramming to learn to follow my bliss, and what bliss even looks like. Examining where my cynical rejection of positive vibes and my fears of unworthiness stem from, I’ve worked diligently to replace my fear with trust and faith. And I continue to work at it every day. When the overwhelming anxiety about what is and what may be wreaks havoc on the here and now, I’ve learned to focus on the moment. Using all the tools I’ve collected has been essential to blocking out those negative voices and embracing the present.

Telling myself that it’s all going to be okay, to let go, and have faith is a constant practice through prayer, meditation, visualization, grounding, tracking, writing, and countless YouTube videos and books. Sometimes just reminding myself to release the tension I’ve been holding in my toes can be a welcome reset. The same techniques may not work every time, or in every situation, but with practice, those instances of falling into the pit of negativity have become less and less.

With all the flux in motion, I could choose to look at each day with a sense of foreboding. I could choose to see the crows that have been appearing in my path as signs of doom rather than symbols of changes to come. I could focus on all the limitations in my way, rather than the opportunities that may be.

And sometimes I do. Sometimes, the overwhelming stress of all I have to carry washes over me in a wave of panic and despair.

But I’ve been telling myself everything is working out so much for the past few months that I might actually have started to believe it. Maybe I’ve reached the tipping point, when all that practice, and repetition, and routine actually becomes part of you, like a musician who no longer needs to look at the notes when they play, because now they feel the music inside them.

There may be no reason to feel excited, or there may be every reason in the world. Maybe everything really is working out, and not just the details of life, but if I can find my own path to happiness amid this crazy upside-down beautiful world that we live in, then that’s the most exciting thing of all.

Being optimistic is a rebellion. And not just because the outside world seems focused on realism to the point of nihilism. People will give you every reason they can think of why things won’t work out. They’ll follow you around for your whole life with rain clouds over your head if you let them. And I get it, discussing potential failures is WAY easier than facing your fears and forging your way toward personal happiness.

But, I don’t need “proof” that things are going to work out. The fact that I can be here, in this moment, choosing to leave the negativity behind me, then making that same choice for another moment, and then another, is all the proof I need that anything is possible.

Positivity about the future may never come completely naturally to me, but it does come easier the more I work at it. These few spontaneous moments of excitement and calm took me by surprise, a surprise I could get used to. Sharing a positive feeling has gotten me called a Pollyanna before, and I’ve also received the accusatory “What are you so happy about?” and “Be realistic!” But I’ve done enough of the opposite. I’ve allowed my fear, dread, and depression to overwhelm me to the point of near suicide.

And you know what, this feels so much better!

There’s enough fear and misery in the world without going on a fox hunt each day for more. So, I’m going to keep on telling myself it’s all working out for me, because it sure feels better than telling myself that everything is all doom and disaster. And if the only thing my efforts manifest for me is a smile during my car ride to work, then maybe there’s something to all this positivity crap after all.