I'm an optimist. I always suspected I leaned to the glass half full side of things and now it's confirmed. *smile* I took the life orientation test on Oprah's website (I told you I loved Oprah) and scored 24/24 on the optimist scale.
It seems as though some people are simply born optimistic or conversely, pessimistic ... always expecting the worse. I liken it to how you are wired. I am wired to expect the very best; when something bad happens, I get a strong sense that something good is coming right behind it. It is a wonderful, carefree way to live.
I think at times I have been optimistic to a fault (if there is such a thing). My "concern alert" is slow to go off when maybe it shouldn't. I can remember my husband working all hours of the night at the office, and waking up to find he wasn't home yet. It was only when someone asked me if I worried that I realized I hadn't until that moment. He could have gone missing for a day before it would cross my mind to be concerned. When someone finds a sympton and goes to the doctor, I never expect the news to be bad. I once had a huge cyst on my neck and once the surgeon told me not to worry, that even if it turned out to be the worst case scenario, he could fix it - I didn't spend a minute worrying about it.
Worry is counter productive -such a waste of time. Over the years I have gotten good at releasing that over which I have no control. I travel lightly with only a carry on - no baggage. I trust the Universe.
I believe we can be rewired. We can learn new responses; develop new reflexes so that our first thoughts lean to the light ... to optimism. My mom helped guide me to this awakening when I was eleven. She pointed out to me that I complained incessently and rarely smiled. I told her that I couldn't help the way I was and she told that I could choose differently and become the person I wanted to be. She gave me books to read and little exercises to practice every day to gain a postive, optimistic attitude. Each day she would prompt me to tell her something good about my day.
When I used to tuck Kidlet in at night when she was just a tot, we had a little ritual. I would say "today was a great day" and then she would yell, arms outstretched, "and tomorrow's gonna be another great day".
I suppose that is a big part of why I am blogging. I want to end each day seeking and documenting the take away - gift - in each precious day. And you know what? There always is one.