Reclaiming the optimism of youth

The resiliency of childhood is extraordinary. How I wish I could reclaim it. 

When the sudden death of a friend occurred almost two years ago, my daughter, who was 10 at the time, was saddened but not crippled by the news. She and her friends got into a strange argument at the funeral, making me wonder if they were lacking in maturity. Was there something that made them less empathetic?  

I would have been overcome with grief, or at least I thought. As an adult, I bore the grief of the parents, even though I didn’t know the family.    

At a funeral this summer, another friend of our daughter’s welcomed us with open arms as we entered the church to memorialize her mother. Upbeat as always, she took our daughter by the hand to a seat in the sanctuary. I imagine there was much grieving in private, and one could only imagine the pain she would feel in the days to come. But at the moment, she wasn't about to bring her friends down. The funeral was one of the most heart-breaking I’ve been to, but it was the adults who shed the tears. 

A book I’m reading on optimism has allayed my fears that our children are somehow less empathetic or emotional than past generations. They are, to put it simply, inherently optimistic. They rarely become depressed, and if they do, not to the extent of adults.  

Children do not brood for long in sadness, although the loss of a parent can have a real impact. They typically aren’t overcome by tragedy, seeing the positive side of almost everything. They are determined to live life to the fullest. 

This is not to take anything away from those who grieve, a most understandable response to the loss of a loved one. But it is a lesson, for me at least, that obstacles in life need not be overwhelming. 

As someone who scores negative seven on a scale of 0-10 in an optimistic thinking test (anyone in the negatives is very pessimistic), it’s occurred to me that I may need a realignment in my thinking. Or as this author suggests, in my explanatory thoughts.  

If you continually explain things in a negative light, or if you blame yourself in most situations, this will eventually weigh you down. Pretty obvious. On the brighter side (yes, I can still sound positive), I rate much higher on the “hopeful scale” – very important, apparently, when it comes to pessimists living a somewhat normal life. 

Positive thinking is a concept I’ve long been familiar with, but haven’t consciously put into practice. I’ve made up for it, I reason, by hanging around positive people. And what I’m learning from them, and my own child, is that there’s something to be said for ignorant bliss. 

If something negative doesn’t directly affect me, and there’s nothing I can possibly do about it, it’s not to be dwelt upon. That includes all news about the potential end of the world, be it related to Donald Trump, climate change or my latest attempt at patching drywall. 

Brooding over things, something I’ve excelled at, only leads to further negative emotion and eventually depression. Author and psychologist Martin Seligman suggests this is why women suffer from depression more than men. Women, who clearly think more than men, are more likely to harbour thoughts of remorse and guilt. Men tend to do things that distract their attention from negative thoughts – whether that involves going to the bar or taking out their troubles on others.  

There are more positive means to deal with one’s negative emotions, of course. Try to remain active by engaging in physical activity. Do good things for others – one of the surest, selfless ways to lift one’s mood. Be at peace with yourself.  

I work with someone who lost his adult son a year ago. In spite of the pain he endured, and still must, he remains one of the most positive people I know. He shows appreciation to others at work and laughs often. 

He’s a role model to me, putting me to shame when I get down over a small setback.  

To one day be so resilient, I remain full of hope.