Posts Tagged positive outlook
This past spring, I found myself waiting in the evening darkness in the middle school parking for my son to return from a wrestling tournament. Such scenes are not uncommon for parents of active students who are not yet old enough to drive. I have definitely developed empathy for chauffeurs.
Finally, the bus pulled into the parking lot and wrestlers began to deboard. Many quickly jumped into their waiting parents’ cars and sped off. Within minutes, the parking lot was nearly empty, but there was still no sign of my son. I imagined him goofing off on the bus and carelessly wasting my time, and I was fairly irritated when he finally emerged from the bus and headed my direction.
I quickly learned that my assumption was wrong. Patrick had noticed that his teammates left the bus cluttered with soda cans and candy wrappers, and, without being asked, he stayed behind to clean up. The next day, while his coach punished the rest of the team with extra conditioning after practice, Patrick was excused. I’m not sure if those junior high students learned their lesson, but I know that I did.
I had needlessly introduced stress into my life by incorrectly assuming a negative situation. Ironically, if I knew what was actually going on in the bus, I would have been proud. Instead, I was critical and angry. I had sabotaged my own happiness.
Negative assumptions can do that to us, if we’re not careful. We’re invited to a dinner party, and we envision uncomfortable conversation instead of stimulation. We’re assigned a task at work, and we anticipate tedium instead of fulfillment. Our child asks for our help with homework, and we expect frustration instead of a bonding opportunity. Our previous experiences have conditioned us to associate certain activities with unpleasantness, so much so that we’re oblivious of other possibilities. That’s human nature.
Much assumption occurs in the subconscious, which is built on accumulated experience. It’s the brain’s way of taking shortcuts to conclusions. We don’t have to prove to ourselves that the glowing orange burner on the stovetop is hot. Our brain communicates that assumption and keeps us from burning ourselves.
If we can assume certain things to be true, we can reach resolutions and conclusions much more quickly. This is how scientists use assumptions. They don’t have to establish that water consists of hydrogen and oxygen before they use it as a medium in their experiments.
As long as assumptions are absolutely correct, they are extremely helpful. It’s when an assumption is based on a variable, such as human behavior, that they become unreliable and sometimes misleading. Though prior experience might lead us to fairly accurate assumptions of human behavior, it’s often a mistake not to consider other possibilities. Sometimes, life surprises us, as I found out in that parking lot on that cold March evening.
My son had goofed around before, and he is sometimes absent-minded, which results in him losing important items, like his shoes or phone. My mind automatically went to that scenario and closed out all other possibilities.
Since that night in the parking lot, I’ve challenged myself to assume the positive in all human interactions. It’s not always easy. When that guy cut me off in traffic the other night, I convinced myself that it was unintentional, and it was more important for him to reach his destination quickly than it was for me to get home. I don’t know if that was true – just like I don’t know if the opposite was true, but thinking that way has brought more peace and happiness into my life.
A recent election didn’t turn out the way I wanted, and it forced me to reexamine and refocus my optimism. If I didn’t do this, I risked becoming negative, and in my business, if you’re negative, you might as well close up shop. Besides, no one wants to live in a negative world.
Entrepreneurs live on optimism. Without a belief system based on positive events, it would be very difficult to take on financial risk and overcome obstacles, two things almost all entrepreneurs do. I’ve always seen my optimism as one of my biggest strengths, and somewhat ironically, it was borne out of my most glaring weakness, my disability.
I was born with a normal body. Not until I was nearly eight years old did I start to experience a disability. From that point on, I was forced to account for my life’s fate.
Simple activities like running on the playground gradually became more difficult and ultimately impossible for me to do. From my childhood through my teen years, I experienced the loss of physical ability that most people experience from their 60s or 70s onward. Older adults have the maturity to accept that their bodies aren’t as capable as they were for the previous 60 years, and their contemporaries are experiencing the same thing, so they don’t feel alone. A young kid, like I was, has neither the context nor the maturity to cope with these changes. I was largely left to make sense of it on my own.
I had to reconcile the disparity between what I felt I deserved and what fate had handed me.
As my physical abilities deteriorated, I had to be mindful not to let my emotional abilities wane as well. If I focused on what I was no longer able to do, I would quickly grow bitter and develop a personality that wasn’t very attractive. Fortunately, I had a support system in my family and friends that propped me up when I was feeling down. They also held me accountable to performing to my potential, not letting me make excuses for myself. To this day, friends that I’ve known for most of my life, forgetting about my disability, will invite me to go skiing or hiking. It’s that sort of nearly unbridled expectation that allowed me to develop a strong sense of optimism.
And that optimism is often tested. A couple of years ago, I awoke early on a Saturday morning excited to attend my son’s basketball tournament. Unfortunately, a mixture of sleet and ice had fallen overnight, and it still covered the sidewalks. Instead of watching Patrick and his team win the tournament that morning, I sat alone and read the newspaper.
Little disappointments like that are part of my life – a part that I can’t control. There is nothing that I can do about a slick sidewalk and wobbly legs that virtually ensure a nasty fall if I try to walk on one. What I can control is my reaction to this reality.
Martin Seligman, author of Learned Optimism: How to Change Your Mind and Your Life, believes that the key to optimism is a positive explanatory style. If people can approach life’s challenges as external, transient events, Seligman believes that their outlook will be much more positive. In other words, the key to happiness is externalizing as much frustration as possible and looking at those frustrations as temporary.
In the case of my missed basketball game, I look at the slippery conditions as a temporary impediment that I can’t control, and I resist the temptation of self-pity for a handicap that presents challenges even on secure surfaces. If I internalize these struggles and see them as permanent, my attitude quickly changes for the worse. Instead of saying, “why does it always have to be difficult to get around to the events I want to attend. I wish that I didn’t have this handicap. It’s forever going to hold me back from doing the things I want to do,” I take deeper overview – I’m frustrated now, but the snow and ice won’t be around forever, and I’ll be able to see more of my kids’ sports if I don’t hurt myself by taking a fall today.
Ceding control over things that are uncontrollable is essential to being optimistic. As much as we want to exert our will on the world, much of what happens around us is beyond our control.
As much as I wished otherwise, I couldn’t control the results of the recent election. What I can control is my reaction. Though the resulting business environment might not be ideal, it is external and transient. My resolve, tenacity and skills are internal and permanent. That’s where I choose to focus, and I hope the same for you.