I’m quitting negativity. Anything negative. Anything remotely negative. Or even minuscule indignation. No more. Just zen, writer zen, happiness, and like the blogger I follow chanting on about optimism. “Optimism” I’ve always felt was an overused word and turned around and inside out so many times that it has an opposite effect. BUT, this one figure, the blogger, repeats it with a genuine urgency, that I’m assured it will solve every problem I have. One of the biggest of which is my attitude. An old boss said, when I was 23 I think, “You’re biggest problem is your attitude.” Indeed it was, has been, but no longer is. This is more material and story, “content”, than I could have ever hoped for from the day. This realization changed the day’s momentum and tide. Wrote earlier in the Comp Book that “The day turned. It just took a colossal SHIT right on my head.” Not blaming the day, or anyone else. Blaming me. But now it changes. I’m changing. I’ve changed, or I think I have. But either way, I’m quitting. Anything even close to a negative or a frown. From here north, into where stage intercepts sky, I’m answering frowns with luminary statements, ones that brighten what’s around me, and me. And I know I’m rambling, it’s what I do (maybe an additional need-to-work-on).
One thing I have noticed about negativity, is that the reactions which put me in a mood are fairly quick, so the writer learns and moves on with much more efficiency than I would with other interactions and transactions. Be he or a she a writer or not, you’re closer to positivity in a more sped fashion. And, what does negativity do? Why consist of it, persist with it? Not a use in dwelling. So onward. I have a continent of to-do’s and need-to-work-on’s, and any ‘nay’ will contaminate everything, corrode and eventually kill. More than sneaky. More viciously sub rosa than putting a lit cig to your lips.
Could this be one of the more coincidental revelations and instructions of my life? Definitely. I’m 37 and so much that’s happened before and their aftershocks flex in obviousness. Certain vertices with family, friends, at past jobs. But no more. Why? Because I quit. And when I feel my temperament shift, curve toward a fanged form, then I smile, say something encomiastically honeyed about it. Like when the coolant light appears and beeps at me in the Passat, voice something endearing like, “Glad it told me, that’s awesome.” Rather than, “This bloody dump-wagon.” (More than 99% sure I’d speak more agitated and profane lines than that, though. But, with no negativity comes far less cursing. Try it…)
There are so many campaigns and movements against smoking, but not as many against negativity, and nihilistic outlooks on life, and people. I’ve learned, finally, and I’m just quitting. No patch, no gum, just new view. New character and scope. I’ve had it, and instead of answering to any anger, I smile back it. Not turning my back, but greeting it, giving it a hug. ‘I love you, negativity! Thank you for showing me so much!’ Onward, forward… Up, up. And each day will be a struggle, to some extent. But this is something I have to do. Otherwise, like with smoking, you don’t live. You live in negativity, which is no life at all.