My experiment in optimism
When you're born pessimistic and decide to be optimistic for a change
A while ago, I made the conscious decision to actively resist my pessimism, my so-called (by me) ‘natural state’. In fact, I used to think that pessimism and cynicism were the ‘right’ ways to approach life.
It was the classic case of a disenchanted young adult trying to make sense of why life felt so burdensome despite its possibilities and opportunities and the fact that, actually, good things did happen. It was an attempt to guard against disappointment, which for a millennial can feel like the greatest calamity of all.
Eventually, feelings started feeling completely out of hand. I’d feel like something was building up, but I wouldn’t know what or why, in an ominous way, like those heart-stopping pauses before the jump scare. When it would inevitably come spilling out in an emotionally violent way, as it always did, I’d start wondering how it would manifest next time. Which external problems will I ascribe to my meltdown? Who will I find to blame for it, and escape accountability, yet again?
It’s hard to come to terms with the fact that we have to learn how to live well. We like to assume that we’re born with all the tools to succeed and be happy— they just need time to mature properly. That might be true. I think it’s more likely that we all vary in the tools we are lacking and need to learn. So best to assume that you don’t have any of them, and to work on acquiring them.
And the hardest tool to learn is to keep looking up when things get difficult— what Viktor Frankl called rational faith. More colloquially, it’s called optimism.
I’ve thought about faith and optimism a fair bit, mostly in opposition with it. Certainly, I struggle with not knowing the future. Many of my decisions have been fear-based, and to avoid pain. Pessimism is an emotional crutch against the worst thing that can happen.
But pessimism and cynicism borne out of a fearful self-preservation instinct is a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you believe that things won’t work out, then it probably won’t. Faith is absolutely required to embody some kind of positive movement or action towards a better outcome.
Cynics are lazy— they don’t want to be challenged in their beliefs. So it’s easier to just not believe in anything, and stay boxed in, rigid, petulantly ignorant of the things you don’t want to see.
Humans tend to become more entrenched and set in their ways because every unique experience adds to an already unique worldview. It’s easier to confirm a belief or idea you’ve previously had rather than rebuilding the house itself. The inertia for the latter tends to be rather high.
And when people subconsciously pick and choose evidence to support what they already believe, they think it’s a result of experience, when it’s actually the result of subconscious confirmation bias over the years.
People like me, who weren’t born optimistic or happy, tend to pick and choose the evidence of life that only confirms one’s melancholic, pessimistic, cynical view of life. Actively trying to break out of this cycle has made me realize that becoming more optimistic would be my greatest success of getting older.
Interacting with self-professed ‘happy’ people is jarring to me, but I’m also grateful for the exemplar because it’s strong evidence against my entrenched prior that everyone is unhappy, deep down or not so deep down, and that we’re all faking it. I like the idea that some people aren’t faking it, so much so that rather than being envious of that ability to be happy, innate or learned, I’d like to believe that I can learn it, and you can’t learn without good role models.
Sometimes I get a feeling of disquiet because it goes against my usual philosophy of keeping my expectations low. But then I realize that conversely, most things I have a good feeling about actually tend to work out well.
I’ve previously interpreted it as ‘having good instincts’ but now I’m starting to wonder if it’s just confirmation bias at work again. When I dread something, it usually doesn’t turn out as bad as I thought it would have, but it also doesn’t turn out amazing. If I had gone into it excited, maybe it would have.
Going against your own subconscious beliefs is unbelievably hard but it’s also invigorating the more one does it. It’s a cold rush in the brain, loosening the dust and cleaning it out. It’s a chance to move the pieces around, adjust the inner picture of the world, generally making it richer, more interesting, perhaps more contradictory. But life is contradictory in many ways, perhaps naturally so.
To my fellow pessimists— it’s ok to be scared, and even for those fears to sometimes come true. Because most of the time they’re not as bad in real life as they are in your imagination. Even if they are, you’ve likely underestimated your own capabilities of dealing with it.