Learning to be Optimistic
One of the lessons my Mother taught me was to couple a bad experience with a fun-filled one.
Having polio put that to test more than once.
I can remember going to get fitted for braces at a machine shop attached to Children’s Hospital. I had a lump in my throat all the way there because I hated it so much. There was a metallic, smell of oil and a man with a big dirty leather apron who would stepkindly from behind the counter to fit me. He was gentle and that made it even harder to choke back the tears—I didn’t want to wear those big, clunky, heavy shoes with those heavy, cold steel rods that kept me upright. I had to admit that something was different about me on those days. It felt all wrong. i tried not to complain because I knew even then that it hurt my mother to see me cry.
And then… she would gather me into the car and say, “Ok, Let’s go to our favorite restaurant,” —Sugar ’N Spice!:, then we would go to a Cinerama movie to see something amazing like—The Wonderful World of the Brothers’ Grimm or Paint Your Wagon or Dr. Zchivago—and then, we’d go shopping!
I guess I got my shopping propensity from that!
Morphing from Optimistic to Optimystic
I began learning to be “optimystic” as I saw coincidences and synchronicities around me too often to believe them to be “just pure luck”. That makes even less sense than thinking there must be some sort of cause and effect afoot.
And I’ve learned to trust “timing”, even dabbling in manipulation by learning to SLOW DOWN TIME.
For instance, when I realize that I have more to do than time to do it in, as often happens, I say out-loud: SLOW DOWN TIME and I imagine all that I want to accomplish. Then I let go of the worry. I don’t check the clock anymore after that–until I’m done. I just get going, doing one thing (or more) at a time and not engaging in panic nor doubt that it’s going to get done.
And Voila`–it works! Saving me from stress.