Optimist or pessimist?
Whichever one you are, that character tendency colors everything you think, say, and do. All the time.

Because I'm genetically encoded toward pessimism, I can't speak to the problems associated with being overly optimistic. But I'm sure there must be some. (Hear that pessimism in there? I'm serious, it's genetic!)

Being the group pessimist never used to bug me. I was quick to douse the bubbly suggestions of the optimists around me with biting sarcasm liberally peppered with plenty of facts and stats. It toned them down and made things more -- fair.

Lately, I seem to be developing an allergy to pessimism. Maybe because it's suddenly so darn popular to be a gloomy Eeyore instead of a bouncy Tigger. Fearful Piglet instead of peaceful Pooh.

Or maybe it's because I've had more than my share of fear-worshiping, hope-quenching, negative misery-mongers in my lifetime.

Remember this rule? "If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all." Wow. Wouldn't that be a switch? To hear gratitude instead of grumbling, praise instead of pouting... even silence would be an improvement for most folks.

Are you miserable?
Tired of being depressed?
Gloomy all the time?
Afraid of everything?
A pessimist of the worst kind? (The worst kind of pessimist is the one who shares his or her pessimistic attitude with everyone else.)

Step One: Shut up! Don't say ANYTHING negative. For some of us, this may require absolute silence for a while until we get our mouths back in positive gear. (Note: This could take days. Or weeks. Meanwhile, the people around you will be ridiculously happy.)


Step Two: Avoid the company of other pessimists. Don't visit, don't call, don't open their absurd doomsday e-mail prophecies. I know, it sounds mean, but your sanity is at stake here! Don't try to talk them out of their pessimism. Change has to come from the inside. (By the way, if people seem to be avoiding you, you might see if you've been ultra-pessimistic lately!)

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Step Three: Take baby steps toward positivity. Say one nice thing about something you hate (sarcasm and irony don't count). Say one positive thing about something you'd usually say something negative about. Say "thank you" for the very things/people/situations that are dragging you down. Instead of "I hate _______", say "I like ___________".

"But what will that do?" (Said with a petulant whine.)

Slowly but surely, over time, the practice of positivity will reset your system and change your perspective on life. You might never be a Pollyanna, but at least you won't be quite so unbalanced!

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I don't want to be one of those miserable, snarly old ladies whose lips are always turned down at the corners, do you? I mean, we all laugh at Maxine cartoons, but none of us want to be Maxine when we grow up, er, old.

Now for a little booster (kind of the way they give heroin addicts methadone to help them kick the habit) watch the following clip, and let it rev up your optimism engine so you can get started on the road to recovery!


 

I'm a bubble blower. Not bubblegum bubbles so much - a history of TMJ keeps me away from gum most of the time. No, I blow wild, sparkly, multicolored bubbles of imaginary design that have the power to lift me right out of dread, fear, and doubt.

At any given moment I have conversation bubbles, dream scenario bubbles, future planning bubbles, wishing bubbles, and faith bubbles floating around my head. Those bubbles are my escape from the mundane and dreary, from the pain and disappointment that frequently accompanies reality.
I'm no Pollyanna. Left to myself, I tend toward pessimism ... that nasty ability to turn a weather forecast for partly cloudy skies into, "It's probably going to rain, I'm not even going to go." I think that's why God gave me bubble-blowing grace - to counteract those Eeyore-style personality traits. (Did it ever occur to you that Eeyore is an ass? Was E.E. Milne trying to tell us something?)

Not everyone has bubble-blowing grace. Some people, probably the more naturally optimistic and sunny among us, don't need bubbles. They have other methods of coping with life's difficulties, like denial and avoidance.

My bubbles are necessary. Whether it's a bubble I've created in my own mind or a book bubble or a great movie bubble or an afternoon with a like-minded bubble-blowing buddy, I need that place of escape. Without them,  I'm worse than any Eeyore.

Sharing my bubbles with others is not always wise. Because of that irresistible urge to pop them. Unfortunately, that's one of the weaknesses of bubble creation, that desire to share said bubble with others.

"Lookie here! Hey, look at this one!" We mumble from behind a bobbling pink shell. Invariably, someone will pop that bubble and chuckle as it deflates, leaving our faces covered with sticky pink goo. I've done it to others, and had it done to me. We cover our bubble-popping propensity with phrases like, "I just don't want you to get your hopes up and be disappointed," or "Don't count your chickens before they hatch."

Here's the question I want to ask myself the next time I'm tempted to pop someone's bubble "for his or her own good." Who am I to be judge, jury, and executioner for their bubbles? Besides, if I pop 'em, I'm probably going to be stuck helping them clean up the mess it leaves behind.


I think I want to start leaving other people's bubbles alone, no matter how absurdly humongous they seem, or how amusing it would be to burst the thing. In turn, I'm going to start keeping my bubbles to myself a little more, especially the ones that are important for my physical, mental, and emotional health.

No one needs to know why I'm drifting along with a smile on my face. And if I let those bubbles get big enough, I might just be able to scoop up someone else who's down in the pit until they discover their own bubble-blowing ability!