There are tons of self-help and self-improvement and self-you-name-it books out there about being positive.
And not for nothing either, because being positive has a major impact on one’s life. It goes beyond a happy mindset, being friendly, cheerful and all those other attractive qualities. Being positive impacts on health, it boosts the immune system, lowers stress and, with it, cholesterol levels; to name but a few that I have personal experience of.
There’s plenty of positive reasons to be positive about being positive. But I haven’t been all that positive recently.
The Slippery Slope Of Mental Depression
I caught myself recently, over the last few days especially, being rather negative. Something I usually don’t dabble in, because I know it’s a pointless, de-constructive waste of energy. But I’ve been criticising much, finding fault and wallowing in a generally depressed mood.
I swear depression is in the colon, because it’s a really shit place to be. I associate depression with the colour and smell of dark, red-wine induced faeces; something I certainly want to get away from as soon as possible.
My emotional elevator doesn’t go down to the depression level all that often and when it does, it usually sinks to the basement only briefly, opens the door for a rapid glimpse at exactly why it doesn’t go down there, and then quickly closes rising back up to the happy, bright place of optimism and positive outlooks.
However, the emotional spiral staircase that leads down to the stinky, dank level of depression, is long and slippery. Once you start down this staircase of despair it’s not so quick and easy to get out. On the way down you will slip, slide down quick and once you’re knee-deep in that gooey, cold emotional excrement, it’s alarming how soon you can lose your way, get used to it, and worse, start feeling comfortable in it.
There’s two ways out. Good friends who come down, pinch their noses and extract you from the stickiness of your emotional sewerage, or an image from your memory banks as a profound reminder why you should get out.
Image Initiated Depression Ejection
Hating so much you become depressed. Emotional stress. Impact on your system so great, you eject new life. Or the new life aborts by itself, not willing to face a world that invoke such emotions.
I’m male. Obviously I can’t ever experience a miscarriage. Or hate, and not that much, for that matter.
But this is the imagine that forces me to eject from the septic tank that is my depression level. The image hangs on the wall down there. It’s the reminder of why I don’t want to be depressed, or why I don’t want to spend any energy on hating, loathing, plotting revenge or dabble in negativity or pessimism.
Nothing good can come from it.
Depression, along with all these other soot-covered emotional states and thoughts, is the inefficient combustion engine of the the mind. You have to burn so much energy to use it, and all you really can show for it is emotional pollution.
Why bother? It’s not the way I want to live my life. It’s hardly living at all.
Optimism, on the other hand, is the mind’s perpetual motion machine.
Optimism and a positive outlook seemingly draws energy from the ether. From other people. From your surroundings. As if by being positive, seeing the good in life, being optimistic, you are somehow connected to the universal power-grid
Positive people have more energy. Positive people live longer. Positive people are more popular, have less stress, get better service, slice through traffic, stand in the fastest queue, see turtles in the TAR marine park, are healthier, happier and find luck often.
People who claim to be on top of the world, are. They are on the top of their world. I know that the top few floors of my mind are the optimism floors. When I’m there, I’m standing tall, looking out ceiling-to-floor windows with a wide balcony, looking over the landscape and seeing everything that is good.
It smells like freshly brewed coffee, warm bread hot out of the oven. It’s cool in summer and warm in winter and there’s always fresh air coming through the window.
I like being positive.
I’m a glass half full kind of guy, the one who makes lemon meringue pie when life gives me lemons, I see the silver lining, the light at the end of the tunnel, the bright side, through permanent rose-coloured inlays, with the wind at my back in the sun in my face, already standing on the greener grass.
I may have been on one knee in the shit you created.
But you won’t get me down.