Pollyanna. A hard-wired optimist. Instinctively looking for the good, the unique, the opportunity in every situation.

Ninety-eightpercentofthetime, this is me. Finding the proverbial silver lining.

{taking deep breath; plunging into #authentic}

It’s that blasted 2% … often triggered by crap self-care during periods of extreme stress … waking up to the stark dark of night, in the silent hours when lonliness seeps in through an exposed vulnerability and attempts to curls its way, unbidden and unwelcome, around the hope harbored in my heart; staying awake, thinking of nothing, anything, everything … struggling, reallystruggling, with depression I don’t admit … that 2% when I don’t want to be strong, when I don’t like Pollyanna very much, when I don’t think I can get over it and move on…

Several fairly significant events when I was younger–reaction/response in those instances from people whose opinion of me desperately matters– those reactions taught me to conceal the 2%, to put a smile in place and fake my way through it. “Really,” the self-talk ticker-tape said, “nobody wants to know. Your issues aren’t important.” And so, I’ve gotten good at it over the years. Camouflaging the 2%. So much so, that I’ve inadvertently trained people to expect this of me, and me to expect it of myself, Pollyanna always on form.

——–

Earlier this year, as I was emerging from a particularly horrific bout of Busted Pollyanna, I shared some of the particulars of my milestone confliction with a trusted friend. 40. It’s just a number. And numbers are relative. And I’ve never felt my age. Not really. No, it’s not the age itself. It’s the milestone. While I can honestly and appreciatively say I’ve accomplished some amazing things in my life, I thought I would have more to show achieved different things.

Her reaction? Strong. Immediate. T.H.R.I.L.L.E.D. “Where are we going to GO!?! This is fantastic. It should be celebrated!!”

One question. Unbridled, unapologetic excitement. Her eyes lit up with her gleeful smile. It shocked me. Literally, in that instant, shocked me out of gloom, despair (“and misery on me, oh-oh-oh-ah-oh”) back to a significantly better head space.

Since that critical, pivotal conversation, we’ve planned said celebratory trip (somewhere requiring a passport stamp!). My bucket list is now published and a countdown timer is ticking. I’m excited about embracing and owning a new decade. And I’ve taken my birthday off (for the first time, ever), planned an outing, and to my extreme delight have persuaded several friends to play hookey with me.

—–

Words, indeed, matter. They have meaning and value. And therin lies their power.

They can shape opinions, perspectives, world views. They can hurt, gouge, maim, destroy. But they can just as easily admire, encourage, praise, and uplift.

http://youtu.be/ZeBv9r92VQ0

Your next conversation may just be interrupting someone’s 2%. Seize the opportunity. Speak life.