Last week, I taught a workshop for the first time in nine months—an unusually long gap for me.
Last October, my wife got sick. 84 days later, she died from a rapid, degenerative brain disease that has no current treatment or cure. It's hard to describe that experience and our journey, so I won’t try to do that here. Not now.
Over the last six months, my three sons and I have been learning about life on this side of losing a beautiful wife and mom. Our friends and family continue to grieve and learn alongside us. There are hard days, okay-enough days, miserable days, and everything in between.
When I considered what it would be like to work again, I reflected on what I do and how my view of the world has changed. I’ve long believed, and am now utterly convinced, that deep loss, pain, and grief don’t change our values—they simply make them clearer.
As I reconnected with the Shafer Leadership Academy this spring, an organization I’ve led workshops for over the last five years, they asked if I would be willing to lead my session on “Practicing Positivity.” The irony isn’t lost on me. I’ve led this session many times before, but I had to pause and ask myself: Would it be ridiculous for me to teach others about seeing possibilities and practicing positivity right now?
I quickly realized the answer was yes. I had to do it.
Because practicing positivity isn’t the insistence that we always and only be positive. That’s toxic. Practicing positivity isn’t about hiding or pushing away negative emotions. That’s corrosive.
A positive mindset is demonstrated not only through gratitude, curiosity, and awe, but also through resilience, perseverance, and integrity. This is at the core of how I see the world and what I talk about in my work. And I recognize that I might have a unique perspective on all of this, a perspective that may be helpful for others to hear.
I quickly realized the answer was yes. I had to do it.
I’m not unique in experiencing unimaginable loss. Yet for whatever reason, I find I can still see possibilities. I can hold space for both the good and the bad, and I recognize that this is not easy, nor is it something everyone can do all of the time.
The work that I do—coaching, teaching, creating—comes from a place of grounded optimism. It’s a belief that no matter how unknown the future seems, possibilities still exist. It’s not a guarantee that things will work out, that I will be comfortable, or that the timeline will be what I want.
I don’t shy away from how terrible and awful life can be. In fact, I believe that by acknowledging and embracing the hardships, we can practice positive mindsets more authentically.
Practicing positivity doesn’t mean doing cartwheels in a field of sunshine and rainbows. It doesn’t mean we have total control of making life work out.
Sometimes, it’s just putting one foot in front of the other. It's trying to live our values to the best of our ability and showing up as our true selves, right where we are.
p.s. I’ve been working to update my website, so it reflects what I’m learning about myself and what I have to offer the world now. More to come, but I’d love for you to check out www.Optimism.Coach.