Eeyore. Scrooge. Chicken Little. Oscar the Grouch. Who is your favorite spokesperson for the worst-case scenario? As much as we turn aside from these sad figures and reject their dismal views, we may also secretly suspect that they have a more accurate grasp on reality than their counterparts in Happy Camp.
In Learned Optimism, Martin Seligman encourages us to be healthier, happier, and more successful by learning and practicing optimism. We find that hope heals by activating the immune system. Confidence in our ability to meet a new challenge energizes us to do so. By offering the benefit of the doubt when we are hurt, we trigger compassion and connection.
Is there any drawback to seeing the silver lining of every cloud? Why are we skeptical of happy talk? Life sucks some of the time. Things don’t always turn out well. We should just fess up and admit it. That is true too, even in the book on optimism. Seligman ends with a discussion on the capacity to see life clearly and to choose the outlook best suited to the circumstances.
Optimism is no substitute for caution in high-risk situations with life-or-death implications. It does not allow us to drive impaired, bike without a helmet, or drop our insurance. Optimism does not excuse us from taking responsibility and making the effort needed to succeed. A belief in favorable results is effective because it motivates us to act. Pessimism saps our energy and prevents us from trying to improve.
Optimism calls for facing the facts: all the facts. If we are inclined to see only the evidence that supports gloom, it is important to look for facts that point to a contrary view. On the other hand, the facts may confirm that the challenge is great and the outlook is dim. In that case, optimism encourages us to respond creatively, to adapt our plans to respond to “what-is.”
We can see from these examples that optimism is not just positive thinking. It is not a superficial affirmation that everything will be fine. It is a hard-nosed look at what is and what might be. Faced with the evidence, it takes a hopeful look at our opportunities to influence the outcome and engages actively with pursuing that outcome.
Look at some of the challenges that surround you. What are the facts? What can you change? Where will you start? Set a modest goal, commit to action, and put on the rose-colored glasses.
Until the next time, go well.
Pam
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Equal Time for Oscar
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Seeing the Glass Differently
Pollyanna. Mary Poppins. Happy Face. Rose-colored glasses. Our culture mistrusts a person whose view is habitually tinged with hope. On the other hand, people who score high on key measures of optimism experience greater achievement, better health, more enjoyment, and less depression than those with lower scores.
We may then ask, “If our habits trend to the half-empty glass, can we turn those habits around?” Psychologist Martin Seligman holds that we can. He urges us to observe our patterns of thought, and to generate alternative ways of explaining setbacks. In the process of debating with ourselves, we can grow the habit of embracing a challenge instead of giving up on it.
Last year, I took a pre-test for my practical coaching exam. In that exam, an instructor plays the role of client and the student plays the role of coach. The examinee must demonstrate 40 interactive coaching behaviors in the course of 30 minutes. In the practice session, I froze up and fell apart.
It took me more than a month to recover from that experience. My self-talk was unequivocal. “I can’t do this.” “I’ve always failed role-playing.” “Maybe coaching isn’t my calling after all.” “My brain just blanks out under pressure.” The underlying mantra, 24-7, was, “I can’t, I’ve never… I won’t ever.”
Eventually, with time and with the support of buddies, my deepest despair began to pass. I remembered that I had learned to speak Spanish fluently. A coaching session, like a language, meant using new vocabulary and syntax in conversation. I began to piece together a plan of study, drills, and practice that was modeled on my college Spanish class. Most importantly, I stopped saying “I can’t, I’ve never…I won’t ever.” I began to think, “I can do this!” Six months later, I passed the exam with flying colors and was certified as a wellness coach.
In filling the half-empty glass, I was eventually able to debate the assumptions about my capacity to grow a new skill. I found evidence that I had, indeed, mastered a similar and difficult challenge.
Seligman tells us that, in learning optimism, Step One is to check the facts. Does our initial gloomy bias recall only the downside of past experience, neglecting important data to the contrary?
Think of examples in your own life. Name a setback. Listen to yourself explain what happened and why. Like a detective, dig deeper for the rest of the story. Like a debater, challenge the assumptions of your dark side. Re-framing the past can energize the future, increasing the likelihood of success.
Until the next time, go well.
Pam
www.wellbuddies.com
We may then ask, “If our habits trend to the half-empty glass, can we turn those habits around?” Psychologist Martin Seligman holds that we can. He urges us to observe our patterns of thought, and to generate alternative ways of explaining setbacks. In the process of debating with ourselves, we can grow the habit of embracing a challenge instead of giving up on it.
Last year, I took a pre-test for my practical coaching exam. In that exam, an instructor plays the role of client and the student plays the role of coach. The examinee must demonstrate 40 interactive coaching behaviors in the course of 30 minutes. In the practice session, I froze up and fell apart.
It took me more than a month to recover from that experience. My self-talk was unequivocal. “I can’t do this.” “I’ve always failed role-playing.” “Maybe coaching isn’t my calling after all.” “My brain just blanks out under pressure.” The underlying mantra, 24-7, was, “I can’t, I’ve never… I won’t ever.”
Eventually, with time and with the support of buddies, my deepest despair began to pass. I remembered that I had learned to speak Spanish fluently. A coaching session, like a language, meant using new vocabulary and syntax in conversation. I began to piece together a plan of study, drills, and practice that was modeled on my college Spanish class. Most importantly, I stopped saying “I can’t, I’ve never…I won’t ever.” I began to think, “I can do this!” Six months later, I passed the exam with flying colors and was certified as a wellness coach.
In filling the half-empty glass, I was eventually able to debate the assumptions about my capacity to grow a new skill. I found evidence that I had, indeed, mastered a similar and difficult challenge.
Seligman tells us that, in learning optimism, Step One is to check the facts. Does our initial gloomy bias recall only the downside of past experience, neglecting important data to the contrary?
Think of examples in your own life. Name a setback. Listen to yourself explain what happened and why. Like a detective, dig deeper for the rest of the story. Like a debater, challenge the assumptions of your dark side. Re-framing the past can energize the future, increasing the likelihood of success.
Until the next time, go well.
Pam
www.wellbuddies.com
Sunday, June 13, 2010
How Full is your Glass?
Last week, in recovering from an irritating cold, I shared some lessons I learned about hope, help, and healing. This week, I have continued to read Martin Seligman’s Learned Optimism, and find more of interest there to pass along.
Be patient, though. I have not yet reached the chapter on how we can turn it around if our patterns run to the dark side. I was tempted to skip ahead to find the “answers” in the back of the book before writing again. Then I decided we would take the journey in sequence. As I read, I found it helpful to understand the habits of thought behind chronic discouragement on the one hand, and a more encouraging outlook on the other. What, indeed, is the difference between Eeyore and Pooh?
Pessimists see setbacks as permanent. If I fall at that end of the spectrum, I see today’s bout of back pain as one more sign of progressive decline. “What can I expect at my age? I guess I just can’t keep doing my own yard work like I always have.” An optimist, on the other hand, would view the pain as temporary. “Yes, I have these episodes a time or two a year. They remind me to visit the chiropractor and do some gentle yoga in the mornings.”
Setbacks also register with pessimists as pervasive and characteristic. “It sucks getting old. Today it’s my back, tomorrow something else. My whole body is falling apart.” Optimists see their problems as specific and exceptional. “My back has always been tricky, but by and large my body is holding up well. As long as I eat well and stay active, I can do anything I want to.”
Finally, optimists explain setbacks as arising from external circumstances, as someone else’s fault or bad luck. Pessimists track similar experiences to their own inherent flaws; they see themselves as programmed for failure or suffering.
Now that we know more about the poles of hope and despair, how do you see yourself on the spectrum? If a hopeless pessimist rates “ 1” and the undaunted optimist is a “10, where are you”? If would like to dig deeper, see www.authentichappiness.org for a free assessment (scroll down the list of questionnaires on the Home page to the Optimism Test).
Next week, I promise to talk about “Changing from Pessimism to Optimism,” Part 3 of Seligman’s book.
Until the next time, go well
Pam
www.wellbuddies.com
Be patient, though. I have not yet reached the chapter on how we can turn it around if our patterns run to the dark side. I was tempted to skip ahead to find the “answers” in the back of the book before writing again. Then I decided we would take the journey in sequence. As I read, I found it helpful to understand the habits of thought behind chronic discouragement on the one hand, and a more encouraging outlook on the other. What, indeed, is the difference between Eeyore and Pooh?
Pessimists see setbacks as permanent. If I fall at that end of the spectrum, I see today’s bout of back pain as one more sign of progressive decline. “What can I expect at my age? I guess I just can’t keep doing my own yard work like I always have.” An optimist, on the other hand, would view the pain as temporary. “Yes, I have these episodes a time or two a year. They remind me to visit the chiropractor and do some gentle yoga in the mornings.”
Setbacks also register with pessimists as pervasive and characteristic. “It sucks getting old. Today it’s my back, tomorrow something else. My whole body is falling apart.” Optimists see their problems as specific and exceptional. “My back has always been tricky, but by and large my body is holding up well. As long as I eat well and stay active, I can do anything I want to.”
Finally, optimists explain setbacks as arising from external circumstances, as someone else’s fault or bad luck. Pessimists track similar experiences to their own inherent flaws; they see themselves as programmed for failure or suffering.
Now that we know more about the poles of hope and despair, how do you see yourself on the spectrum? If a hopeless pessimist rates “ 1” and the undaunted optimist is a “10, where are you”? If would like to dig deeper, see www.authentichappiness.org for a free assessment (scroll down the list of questionnaires on the Home page to the Optimism Test).
Next week, I promise to talk about “Changing from Pessimism to Optimism,” Part 3 of Seligman’s book.
Until the next time, go well
Pam
www.wellbuddies.com
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Life Lesson: Learned Optimism
In the last issue of Reflections, when suffering from a virus, I was looking for a silver lining or a lesson to be learned from my misery. Several of each have emerged with the surge of warm and helpful responses from many of you. Buddies, friends, family, and “fans” sent good wishes and helpful advice by e-mail, blog posts, and Facebook comments. I was delighted and healed by chicken soup in so many forms.
Rest. Take care of yourself. Drink fluids. Be still. Re-assess your priorities. Stop. Curl up with a good book. Try watching this movie. Drink some more (tea, honey… whiskey!) Next time try zinc. Yes, chicken soup (thanks, Gail). Hope you feel better soon.
I drank, rested, and set aside the unimportant—which was almost everything. I also read. Scanning the shelf of treasures-in-waiting, I pulled down a book entitled Learned Optimism by Martin Seligman. The title held promise as viewed from the bottom of an emotional pit, and it was the perfect choice. Seligman is the father of “positive psychology.” He demonstrates with scientific data that happiness is good for us. And he shows how we can learn to be happier, even if we start out with gloomy genes.
Seligman attributes a certain degree of pessimism, to our inheritance. Some of us come pre-programmed to see the glass half empty. He does not stop there, thank goodness. We also learn to be pessimistic when experience tells us we cannot improve our situation. He calls that condition “learned helplessness,” and shows how it can be reversed. While ill, I felt helpless. After asking for help and receiving it, I learned a little about optimism.
One friend raised my eyebrow with the comment, “You’re always so in control of things, I never thought to offer any suggestions for dealing with your illness.” Lesson learned: ask for help. It is a gift to be able to help others. It is also a gift to let others help us. Our culture celebrates independence and self-reliance to a fault. When we insist on being self-sufficient all of the time, the network that connects us is weakened, and the instinct of our social species to reach out is squandered.
Many of you expressed hope that I would feel better soon. I did. Lesson learned: hope heals. Seligman describes how an optimistic view works within the brain to generate a chain reaction of hormones and a stronger, more aggressive immune system. On the other hand, the immune system of a person who has given up mentally may also give up physically.
How do you deal with setbacks in your life? Do you tough them out and wait for things to get better (or worry that they won’t)? Do you actively pursue options, drawing on lessons learned from past success? Do you ask for help, and accept it graciously when offered? It makes a difference. Hope heals!
Until the next time, go well
Pam
www.wellbuddies.com
Rest. Take care of yourself. Drink fluids. Be still. Re-assess your priorities. Stop. Curl up with a good book. Try watching this movie. Drink some more (tea, honey… whiskey!) Next time try zinc. Yes, chicken soup (thanks, Gail). Hope you feel better soon.
I drank, rested, and set aside the unimportant—which was almost everything. I also read. Scanning the shelf of treasures-in-waiting, I pulled down a book entitled Learned Optimism by Martin Seligman. The title held promise as viewed from the bottom of an emotional pit, and it was the perfect choice. Seligman is the father of “positive psychology.” He demonstrates with scientific data that happiness is good for us. And he shows how we can learn to be happier, even if we start out with gloomy genes.
Seligman attributes a certain degree of pessimism, to our inheritance. Some of us come pre-programmed to see the glass half empty. He does not stop there, thank goodness. We also learn to be pessimistic when experience tells us we cannot improve our situation. He calls that condition “learned helplessness,” and shows how it can be reversed. While ill, I felt helpless. After asking for help and receiving it, I learned a little about optimism.
One friend raised my eyebrow with the comment, “You’re always so in control of things, I never thought to offer any suggestions for dealing with your illness.” Lesson learned: ask for help. It is a gift to be able to help others. It is also a gift to let others help us. Our culture celebrates independence and self-reliance to a fault. When we insist on being self-sufficient all of the time, the network that connects us is weakened, and the instinct of our social species to reach out is squandered.
Many of you expressed hope that I would feel better soon. I did. Lesson learned: hope heals. Seligman describes how an optimistic view works within the brain to generate a chain reaction of hormones and a stronger, more aggressive immune system. On the other hand, the immune system of a person who has given up mentally may also give up physically.
How do you deal with setbacks in your life? Do you tough them out and wait for things to get better (or worry that they won’t)? Do you actively pursue options, drawing on lessons learned from past success? Do you ask for help, and accept it graciously when offered? It makes a difference. Hope heals!
Until the next time, go well
Pam
www.wellbuddies.com
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