An Experiment

In which I try on a new way of thinking

It will come as no surprise to anyone that I’ve been more unwell for a while. As with all illnesses, I have waited to feel better, nudging things back in the calendar to make space (like work and blogs and ambition), but I have remembered that with chronic illnesses like mine, the waiting can become a small a cage as the illness itself. And so I am not better, but I’m also not waiting anymore.

The bigger surprise is that I have been happy. There has been a shift, like soil just before the fat head of seedling pushes through. I want to tell you why.

It struck me one day that I often, habitually assume the worst. I have always done so fairly cheerfully, but when thinking of the days and weeks ahead, I do tend to assume personal challenges and calamity rather than blessings. It feels safer that way. I can prepare ahead and, ha, you see life? You won’t catch me unawares. I have often justified this way of thinking to myself. It’s practical, more sensible. What struck me for the first time recently was how bloody miserable this is.

And does it keep me safe? Not remotely. My portentous predictions actually, rarely come true and when they do, it’s usually in some form I hadn’t thought of and so I have to respond differently anyway. It is, if I’m honest with myself, an entirely inefficient system. What it does do well – with guaranteed regularity – is to feed my body and mind a constant trickle of a message that things are not really OK, that they won’t be OK, and that as a result, I am probably not going to be OK either. It pushes my alarm bells to ON, pulsing fight or flight stress hormones through my body, and leaves them there until I am so used to the thrumming background sound of it that I forget what silence feels like.

I tell you now: I’m done with it. How could I possibly expect my body to heal under those conditions? How could I possibly expect to feel happy, or think clearly, or live well?

That is why I decided on an experiment. What if I decided, deliberately, to assume the best? I don’t mean the grand, all-consuming things – not world events or cosmic shifts or other people – I mean me. Just me. What if I assume, for the most part, that I will be fine. Every time I find myself thinking pessimistically or just settling into the familiar fog of 'things aren’t OK’, what if I gave myself a little shake and changed my mind? It’s all guesswork, anyway. What if I just guessed differently?

And so, that’s what I’ve been doing. I have been waking up and anticipating goodness. Determinedly, persistently, I have been expecting that I will be surprised by something good happening today, tomorrow, some time soon. I have been falling asleep and reminding myself that generally, in my day to day life, everything is absolutely OK. Really reassuringly manageable. Even if I can only trust that in this moment, the lamplight dim and soft, the cat pressed hard against my back, my face warm on the pillow, I am practising trust.

I haven’t been approaching this as an optimist, I’ve been approaching it like a scientist. Which hypothesis, on average, is more reliable? When I assumed the worst, I was often wrong. If I assume that good things will happen, or at least be better than expected, will I prove myself right more often? 

Much to my surprise, I am getting a really high score. I am, in fact, turning out to be right far more often than I ever have before. Most moments in my day ARE absolutely fine. Surprisingly good things do happen, even if they are small and fleeting. The things I dread are rarely, rarely that big a deal. Even things that feel alarming or completely overwhelming on one day usually even back out to a baseline of manageable pretty quickly, if I give them a chance. If I look at all the evidence, I can only conclude that ‘assuming things will be OK’ is a far more reliable way to live.

The thing is, this way of thinking kind of spirals once you start, just like its opposite tends to do too. It turns out that, when you look for it, the days are a positive cornucopia of nice things designed to prove you right about life’s goodness. Just as I type this, the passionflower leaves are doing a shimmy in the wind and I am wearing two pairs of socks and have a hot water bottle on my lap. I have long noticed and delighted in things like this — you know this — but what I hadn’t registered, I don’t think, is how they act as evidence that everything is much, much more OK and more manageable than I had assumed. 

I have made myself a long, rich infusion of ginger and marshmallow root, cinnamon and liquorice for my sore throat and it is delicious and soothing and perfect.

That is the other thing that’s changed for me — the other new thought I have decided to try on. What if, instead of being surrounded by things and moments cunningly designed to harm or upset me in some way, I was surrounded by things that wanted to help? What if all these moments and the nice things I noticed weren’t just there to take pleasure in, but were actually, physically propping me up? Maybe they are actively supporting me in some way, helping me along through the day a little further, like a friend would. What if there was love and help in everything around me?

I’m being proved right there too. It’s led to a beautiful renewed obsession with food, plants and herbs, for starters. God, we are overrun with things in this world that want to make us strong. Isn’t that incredible?

My steps are still painful and heavy but I can feel the ground beneath me holding me up, actively pushing to steady me still. I sip my tea and feel the benevolent helpful power of every ingredient and look around me and wonder what new ally I can get to know next.

It is making me so happy. So happy and calm and strong.

Of course hard things will still happen, of course they will, to me and other people. But I think now I’m going to be in much much better shape to face them, and much better shape to be of some real use when they do. 

---

You’re reading a bimblings freebie post — my heartfelt gift to the universe. If you subscribe, you’ll receive one or two posts like this a month. For more behind-the-scenes news about my personal life, book-writing, art practice, loves and losses, plus more on how I navigate life with a body that doesn’t work so well, please do consider upgrading for a small monthly fee. Alternatively, perhaps you’d like to buy me a coffee? It all helps me and my family enormously. Thank you so much for being here.