I woke up yesterday with deep anxiety. It is not an unusual occurrence. Some days it happens and some days it does not. It may have a trigger that trips it, or an upcoming event. Or it may be completely random. As in, “Where in the world did that come from?”
I now know where it comes from. My brain. I didn’t used to know that. I thought everyone experienced it and suffered with it. Then I found out they didn’t. And, ten years ago at age 50, I sought medical help and found out how “other people” experience life more freely. It was a revelation. Getting help doesn’t cure the suffering, but it alleviates it. Until it doesn’t and I wake up and say, “Well, hello my friend, Anxiety. How may I help you?”
This will not be a blog about how I have overcome it with the TLC Three Crowns • Positive Attitude • Full Effort • Good Sportsmanship℠.
I will probably never completely overcome it. Sometimes things are not “overcome”. They just are.
But that does not mean life is unlivable. Nor does it mean that I cannot have a positive attitude, as long as I know what a positive attitude is. And what a positive attitude is not.
Last night, I witnessed a tremendous act of courage.
Sitting in my little perch where I watch each variety show, where I can overlook the performance pit from the side where the show takes place, a camper appeared beside me. He said, “May I stand for the Variety Show?”
I said of course, but if he wanted a better view, he could go sit in front. He said, no, he wanted to stand. Curious, I asked why. I discovered he has debilitating social anxiety which most people would not guess. It started a few years ago, he has sought and gotten help, but it is still present and paralyzes him at times in groups, sitting in crowds, presenting in school, or watching others perform. He knew, from my sharing with the camp about my own coping with anxiety, that I struggle differently, but with the same challenge.
Last year, unbeknownst to me, he had stayed in his room for the Variety Show because he could not bring himself to be downstairs in that situation.
We talked about how crippling it can be when it takes over without warning.
I asked if he wanted to get to a better view. He shook his head no vigorously, he was fine where he was, being able to see about half the stage.
There he stood, watching, for the whole show. Except one act. When another boy got up to sing a serious song, he removed himself from the room. I wondered if he would come back. After the song, he did.
I asked him if watching that kind of performance was difficult. He said it was, because he imagines himself in their shoes. There are so many things I could say, others could say, therapists could say. All I could think to say was, “I’m glad you came back.”
And he stayed there the rest of the show.
Positive Attitude is the trickiest of the Three Crowns.
Because it is all tied up in people’s minds with the power of positive thinking, fake it til you make it, pop psychology that is about “choosing to be happy” or whatever other advice out there that is generally unhelpful to the vast majority of people.
But if positive attitude depends on the emotion of being happy or content or peaceful inside, most of us will never succeed. Because life is difficult.
Positive attitude at TLC is not an emotion, it is always an action.
When adversity hits, positive attitude is asking the question “What is the next thing I can do to head in a positive direction?” Some days it is as simple as saying, “I’ll move through the next volley.” Some days it is as difficult as saying, “Can I stay in the room for one more act?”
It is, in my life, sometimes just putting one foot down in front of the other. And that can be the most courageous, positive act any of us ever do. We all struggle with something. That is the human condition. It is nothing to be ashamed of. Perhaps, today, you need to put one foot in front of the other.
Or your loved one does. How amazing – and positive – is that? We get to take those steps beside each other.
Last night, I witnessed a tremendous act of courage.
One camper making a small – huge – step out of the darkness of his room to, a year later, the fringe of the show. Maybe the next step is into the audience and then, who knows, onto the stage.
Until then, when we falter, maybe when we pick ourselves up to do the next thing, we can simply hear from each other, “I’m glad you came back.”
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