The Accidental(?) Optimist: I prefer my glass half-full

I would like to think that I have always been an optimist, though I have never really thought about it until the events of recent years when my optimism was put to the test. That outlook is based on the fact that I had a wonderful childhood with fabulous parents and big brothers who supported me in every way to hit those milestones throughout high school, college and graduate school that I sought.

Nor would I say that I was/am a Pollyanna. It is possible, I believe, to live with a half-glass full mentality vs. a half-glass empty mentality yet see the reality of the world around you. Sometimes, that world slaps you in the face whether you want to see it or not. Then it’s up to you to decide how to respond.

I credit much of my attitude to my late Mother, whom many would say was shy and retiring (unless she had had one drink), because she clearly played the straight guy to my outgoing Dad. But my Mom was sharp. And smart. And forward-thinking. She always worked outside of the home, in part to get away from her demanding mother-in-law or own mother, one of whom always lived with us. So my role model, for which I am eternally grateful, was that of a working mom. She always told me I could be anything I wanted to be, and thought when I first expressed interest in journalism, that I should be the next Barbara Walters. Remember, I was born in the 1950s, and women in journalism, much less network television, was breakthrough stuff. (But I chose the print media, convinced of its ability to provide a deeper look at the issues.) She also steered me away from other potential career choices that I raised, citing their instability or dependence on volunteer boards of directors for reappointments. She was one sharp woman who pointed me down the path of strength.

Over the years, I have also developed my own way of coping with issues, always looking for the right balance: Recognizing the severity, dealing with the issues, choosing the path of action, emerging with my own version of clarity. I am a firm believer that we play the largest role in creating our destiny and our own balance.

Three cases of varying magnitude come to mind that demonstrate my attitude.

The first instance occurred with the birth of my first son and my first experience with the “terrible twos.” It didn’t take me long to realize that a two-year old is simply going to behave like a two-year-old, and the only part that is terrible is how the parent responds. Once I came to that realization, our life was once again balanced. Truly, I can’t recall one period of my sons’ lives that I did not enjoy. And I worked full-time throughout my pregnancies and from the time they were six weeks old. So my plate was full, but I learned how to balance.

The second instance, and surely the most traumatic, occurred in 2013, when my husband was killed by a hit-and-run driver on a rural Connecticut road. That’s when life smacks you in the face when you least expect it. My life was turned upside down on a Sunday afternoon, and it was up to me to decide how to right that ship. What became most obvious to me instantly was that I would not do anything that would increase the pain that our sons would experience. My number one obligation was to ensure they came through this experience as unscathed as possible, though it was clearly a life-changing experience for us all. Through personal therapy at the urging of a friend, the love of family and friends, and a supportive work environment (I will forever be grateful to Berdon LLP for their kindness during this personal hell), we all made it and have moved forward. We shall never forget, or “move on,” but as I have learned from my wonderful, loving second husband, we do learn to move forward.

The third instance simply deals with the year 2020. As a nation, we have dealt with the worst turmoil and racial strife our nation has seen since the 1960s. Our government seems incapable of leadership. As a world, we are besieged by a pandemic that has brought us all to our knees. It is enough to make anyone see his/her glass as half-empty. But I refuse. Here’s how ….

From the outset of the pandemic, I refused to give up my personal training. I knew that I had to maintain my physical and mental health in order to get through this ordeal. So when the gyms closed, I brought my trainer home for twice-weekly sessions. It was the best decision made, keeping me physically and mentally fit and aware of the days of the week.

We have been cautious throughout the pandemic, but not hermits. We went to grocery stores appropriately masked and gloved, as we still do. Now we venture, cautiously, to other venues. In fact, we are about to take a three-day mini-vacation to the mountains of North Carolina for a change of scenery and a change of climate. But we are going to a very small town where we will engage with few people, be able to enjoy outside dining, and marvel at the waterfalls.

Every morning, I brew a hot cup of Peet’s coffee. As soon as I smell it and taste it, I give thanks for another day being Covid-free. My glass remains half-full.