Ignorance or the power of positive thinking?

This is not especially well-written, but the content is worth considering…

A life without complaints – it’s something I never considered before. Had you asked me a week ago, I would have said that it is not only impossible, but preposterous. A week ago, I would have had a complaint to offer about people who think you can live complaint free. I would have had a complaint for every second of the day. I would have justified all of those complaints with the claim that life sucks, that life is a punishment that we have to suffer through to get to the other side, that pain is a person’s natural state of being. As you can imagine, I have not enjoyed a great deal of mental health in my life.

                Life is certainly not without pain, suffering, and loss. Every one of us will have to walk through fire at some point. But I was at the point of waking up angry – angry that another day had come. In a world where so many feel fortunate to have one more day and so many would give anything to have one more day with those who have gone, I was dreading every step, laboring through every breath. I looked to medicine to help with the pain and shortness of breath. I looked to psychiatry to help with dysphoria and depression. I looked to God to help me find purpose and fulfillment. What I never tried, was to look into my own mind for the change that I needed.

                So, what changed? Did I have some sort of intense spiritual experience? Did I survive a major trauma? Find a new method of therapy? Try the perfect diet? Take a magical cocktail of psychotropic drugs? No. I simply stumbled across a book title: A Complaint Free World. Before I had even started to read the book, my perspective started to shift. I started to think of the possibility of living complaint free. The book challenges us to go 21 days without complaining, gossiping, or making sarcastic comments. Those of you who know me well, know that I would have very little left to say. I started thinking about all of the negative energy that I put out into the world and how much negative energy I draw into my life. What if, even if it required a vow of silence, I could spare the rest of the world my intensely negative thoughts and spread positive energy instead?

                Still fairly certain that I could not have a complaint free day, let alone 21 days, I shied away from the challenge. But I continued to read the book. I complained about the book. I was sure that it was just a scam to sell stupid rubber wrist bands (to be switched from one side to the other each time you complain). I was sure that people who aren’t angry are dumb or ignorant of their surroundings. The book made me downright cranky at first, but the idea kept creeping into my mind. I had to let go of my anger about the wristbands when the author advises the use of a coin for those who don’t want the wristband. I had to let go of my connection between positivity and ignorance when the author addressed the ills of the world and how a positive attitude can inspire action to resolve the issues while a negative attitude accomplishes nothing. Then, I had to accept the fact that I’m not that special. The author indicates that it takes most people 8-9 months to go 21 days complaint free. I have not cornered the market on being surly and disgruntled. There is nothing that makes me less likely to finish the challenge than any of the other grumpy Gussssesseses (I just realized I have no idea how to pluralize ‘Gus’).

                I have decided to take the Complaint Free challenge and I find that my mood is already changing after only two days. I have a St. Michael the Archangel medallion in my pocket and every time I complain, gossip, or use sarcasm as a weapon, I move it to the other pocket. It is simply an exercise in awareness. There is no penalty for complaining, nor is there some carrot on a stick that I’ll never reach. I simply try not to be negative and try to make myself aware of when I am. I am learning to convert anticipation into excitement rather than dread. I am learning to appreciate the unexpected and be flexible to change. I am learning to see the good in people in spite of their flaws. I have a tendency to view things as black and white. As soon as something has a negative quality, it must be all bad. If something is less than perfect, then it’s all ruined. Attempting not to complain has required me to see some shades of grey.

                The only downside of the challenge is that it has made me acutely aware of what a Negative Nancy I have been in the past. I have also realized how many feelings I must have hurt by making sarcastic comments or talking behind others’ backs. I’m not proud of those parts of my personality. The good news is that the Complaint Free challenge gives me a context in which to process those feelings. I am not all bad because I have done hurtful things. I am just a person who has done hurtful things. I’ve also done a lot of nice things. There is no point in dwelling on the hurtful things when I can put that energy into not repeating those behaviors.  It’s more efficient to focus on the nice things and use them as my guide.

                I know that I have only been doing this for a short time, but I really feel like a powerful change is happening. I don’t leap out of bed ready to take on the day, but I don’t feel that sense of dread in the mornings now. My face doesn’t feel like it’s sliding off my skull under its own weight. It feels light. I’m smiling more easily. My legs don’t feel quite as heavy. I have more patience for people. Interactions with others don’t seem so uncomfortable and forced. I feel like I can actually enjoy a conversation rather than pretend to enjoy it while actually wishing it would end as soon as possible. If I can make this much progress in two days, just imagine the change after 21.

                I am coming to grips with the fact that I may actually become a positive person. I may start believing that life is a gift, something to be appreciated. I may start enjoying my life and hoping that it goes on for a long time. Each new day may start invigorating, rather than exhausting, me. I don’t really know this new person, but I’m looking forward to getting there. I never would have done this for myself, but the thought of contributing more hurt and negativity out into the universe was more than I could bear. It’s selfish to make the whole world the sounding board for all of my problems.

                I invite all of you to join this challenge. Just give it a go. It’s ok if you never make it to 21 days. Simply becoming aware of what comes out of your mouth is a huge start. There might be times when you think its ok to complain, go for it. But ask yourself if it’s really necessary before you say it out loud. Take some time to evaluate the situation and see if there’s really anything to complain about before you just spew negativity. Let yourself experience the positive energy that you attract when you choose to contribute positive energy into the universal pool. 

Baby's First Colonoscopy

                “Ok, there’s a gown and a robe in the tub.” The tub thumps on the small bench in the exam room. “Remove everything and place it in the tub.” She doesn’t mention my dignity, but I assume that it is to go into the tub, as well. “You can keep your bra on.” Ah, there is one last vestige of control and I will surely take it. I will be nearly naked under the thin, oversized, cotton gown, but, by God, at least I’ll have my bra.

                I slink quietly out of my jeans and t-shirt and hear the assistant’s reminder in my head, “make sure you take off your underpants.” As if I thought that was an option. Removing my clothes, I expose as little skin as possible for fear that there may be someone lurking in one of the corners; a dark, sinister presence that I may have missed when I first scanned the room for dangers. The cool hospital air raises the peach fuzz on my belly and I stop for a moment to pretend that I’m anywhere but here. I feel dwarfed by the one-size-fits-all method of assigning gowns to patients, as if donning this garment has reduced me to a child. But wait, the mess of fabric, wires, and straps wrapped around my chest reminds me that I still have some control, some independence. I anchor my thoughts on that and stand just a little bit taller.

                After about a million questions, a physical exam, and placement of an IV, I am released to the patient waiting room. Shuffling into the hall, I see my boyfriend waiting. He smiles, gently. He is a beacon in a sea of blue hair. I untangle myself from my IV tubing and sit in a lovely recliner that is more like a tilted exam table than a real piece of furniture. Easy clean up, I suppose. We don’t talk much at first, just hold hands and wait for the drugs to take me away. I overhear the ladies in the curtain area next to mine. They are wondering if they will get home in time for Wheel of Fortune and discussing the quality of the pot roast at the care center.

                “We are far too young to be here.”

                Brett nods his head in agreement and I shake mine in frustration and disbelief. I am 32 years old and I am having a colonoscopy. How did this become my life? I am not overweight, nor particularly sedentary. I go for walks on my lunch and I always take the stairs. I haven’t eaten wheat, or any other source of gluten, in three years. I should be healthy, in the prime of my life. Instead, I am lined up for a series of diagnostic tests to determine why I am no longer able to regularly absorb nutrients and expel waste.

                They transfer me to the procedure room and I feel as if there are far too many people here. How did I get in this room surrounded by four gloved and gowned figures looming over me, waiting to invade my inner sanctum? In an instant, I want to back out of the procedure. I want to thank the nice doctor, but explain that I’m feeling much better and I’m sure some lifestyle changes will do the trick. As the scope gets near, I’m ready to leap off the table… but then I slip into the sweet dreamland of conscious sedation.

                In the recovery room, the doctor tells me that everything looked good. What I hear is, “you just let this dude violate you with a length of plastic tubing for no reason.” I should be relieved that I don’t have colon cancer, diverticulitis, polyps, or any other of a host of gastrointestinal illnesses, but I’m left right back where I started – wondering why an otherwise healthy young person would be have so much trouble with the simple act of digesting food.

                After recovering from the procedure, I start to give some serious thought to this food thing. As a person with food sensitivities, I am familiar with the effects that the wrong foods can have on the body. But what if it’s more than just sensitivity resulting in some discomfort? What if our food is actually killing us? Obviously if you eat fast food every day and binge drink on the weekends, your diet is killing you. But what about the rest of us? What about those of us who are really trying to live well, eat good food, and enjoy our treats in moderation? Why are we still getting sick?

                I certainly don’t have the answers to these questions, but I do intend to find out what I can. I have realized that it’s absurd to fill your body with poison and then wonder why you’re sick. The tricky part, though, is that the poison is in more places than you think. I thought that eliminating wheat, dairy, and processed foods was sufficient.  It’s clear to me now that there’s more to it than that. Even the foods that we think are healthy are likely to host silent killers. Dyes, additives, and preservatives that we are not able to process lying in wait in the guise of health food. It’s not enough for me anymore to just look at the things that I don’t consume, I need to look at everything that I do consume that just shouldn’t go into the human body.

                My life may depend on it.