Am I Pathologically Optimistic?

Oct 21

Or realistically positive?

Recently, one of my dearest friends in the entire world told me they enjoyed my weekly newsletter, but then added, “Except, are you really always that damn cheerful?”

I’d never thought of my state of mind that way, and if they lived with me day after day, they would know it’s not entirely true. But, indeed, I see mostly sunshine on a partly cloudy day, and my glasses do tend towards a rose-colored tint for sure.

But is it possible to be too optimistic?

Time for some research, I said to myself. Because I live alone and there’s no one else to discuss such things with.

One article says that adverse effects of being overly positive include:

It may cause me to miss warning signs of negative consequences;
An optimist may avoid conflict to preserve harmony;
Being in a hurry to gloss over problems in order to feel happy;
I may need to be reminded of what could go wrong.

Yes, yes, yes, and possibly. I’ll give the author credit where due, but I prefer to be the person building the boat instead of making a life jacket.

Can we balance realism and positivity?

Our survival and happiness require a balance between optimism and pessimism. Undue pessimism makes life miserable; however, excessive optimism can lead to dangerously risky behaviors.

So many people grew up with challenges, as I did. There weren’t always happy things happening to me or around me. But when you look at the core of goodness within yourself — at the optimism and hope — you realize it comes from the environment you grew up in.—Sonia Sotomayor

Evidence shows that humans are born with an optimistic bias. Thus, if they are fortunate to have generally positive experiences with their caretakers, this positive state of mind allows them to approach new experiences with enthusiasm.

If you’d like to read more about this, I suggest this article, Children Are Natural Optimists (Which Has Its Ups and Downs). As we age, we face disappointments and tend to buffer our natural optimism with at least some realism. Those unfortunate children who are constantly criticized and unloved often begin to see the world as an unwelcoming place.

The Orchid and the Dandelion.

Why Some Children Struggle and How All Can Thrive. To me, this is a brilliant description of what happens to some children. It’s also the title of a 2019 book by W. Thomas Boyce MD. I’ve always known that I was born a hardy child. In fact, by the time I was only five, my mother described me as always cheerful and helpful as well as chunky.

I was not artistic or particularly sensitive, just sturdy and happy. However, these traits merged into what seemed to be a likable child. I was what Dr. Boyce calls a Dandelion Child, the “dandelion” child (hardy, resilient, healthy), able to survive and flourish under most circumstances.

This kind of child is neither better or worse than their sibling Orchids, whom Boyce describes as sensitive, susceptible, fragile, yet given the right support, can thrive as much, if not more, than other children.

Orchid children, Boyce makes clear, are not failed dandelions; they are a different category of child, with unique sensitivities and strengths and need to be nurtured and taught in special ways.

Have you ever tried getting rid of dandelions? Yep, it’s tough.

I’ve spent a lifetime feeling guilty for being a dandelion, knowing that I was resilient through no hidden virtue of my own. I dearly love my siblings, who suffered far more than I did. But, unfortunately, growing up on an Alaskan homestead with an unstable mother is not a suitable environment for a glorious orchid.

As a dandelion person, I’m frequently surprised by unfortunate events. What? I often say to myself. Should I have expected that surprising outcome?

I’ve learned to discuss important decisions with thoughtful and trusted advisors who are more intuitive and perhaps more logical than I am. But, step on me, and I’m likely to spring back up from my deeply lodged roots.

Orchid children are often profound thinkers with creative souls.

I love this advice for growers of lovely orchids and perhaps explains why Boyce chose orchids to contrast with dandelions.

Although crotons, hibiscus, ginger, and any number of tropical plants don’t like cold temperatures and will often drop leaves, orchids are by far the most sensitive.

If you are an Orchid person or like me, have been blessed with family members who are, remember: only about 10% of us fit this category. As children, these children need care and nourishment to reveal their true beauty. They’re not necessarily pessimistic, just sensitive, I’ve learned.

Yes, I may be unusually optimistic.

But like everything else in life, this trait has its ups and downs. I’m not likely to change, and neither are those folks who perhaps are wearing their transitional lens and perceive the world more clearly than I.

It’s one of the glories of getting older, learning to put things into perspective.

So thanks, dear friend, who initiated this query. I do believe I can benefit from a bit of realism, and my more sensitive friends can become a bit happier.

But I know we’re all glorious in our indefatigable dandelion-ness or indescribably tropical beauty.