The Many Faces of a Partial Pollyanna

Am I a Pollyanna? According to Wikipedia, the Pollyanna principle is the tendency for people to remember pleasant things more accurately than unpleasant ones. A Pollyanna is illogically optimistic. It’s being blind to what is really going on in life.

This is certainly dangerous for everyone. Reality is reality. But there’s the glass half-full or glass half-empty analogy. There’s always something in the glass, but we can see it in two different ways, react in two different ways. Letting ourselves see the glass as half full helps us cope, move on, appreciate, look forward.

Trying to appreciate life

There are days when I want to sing “victory is mine,” an old verse we used to sing in our southern Mississippi church. My husband's PSA, while still increasing, continues to be low enough to not require treatment, only monitoring. His recent PSMA test was inconclusive and didn’t highlight any active cancer areas. We celebrate.

Our daughter with breast cancer has recuperated from her surgeries, finished chemo, finished radiation. She’s excited because her hair is growing back. It’s not even a quarter of an inch long and is mostly gray instead of the deep auburn it used to be, but it’s coming back. Her new hair is so soft and so beautiful and so new – a rebirth into the world of being healed. We celebrate with her.

We all must face the reality of what’s going on in our lives, in the lives of those around us. Can I hold my head up all the time? No, it’s often been a struggle. I’ve seen what cancer does. But I try and keep trying. Life is so much better when it’s appreciated for the good and not for the bad, when we look upward rather than downward, when we smile rather than frown. I’d rather be a partial Pollyanna than be forever devoured by the negatives and constant fears that come with disease.

Finding ways out of the grief

So what can I do when I find myself on the low end of the Pollyanna scale? I’ve found many ways of coping and getting past the anxiety, fear, anger at cancer.  Being busy, sometimes to the point of exhaustion, can help. Sometimes prayer is the answer. Being with the people I love can do wonders for my spirit. Watching the joy of life in my grandchildren who are free from worry can be the answer. Exercise.

Play music, write music, dance to music, sing to music. Yes, I can get caught up in the overwhelming grief that comes with cancer, but that’s not where I plan to stay and I know of some ways out of that grief.

There's joy out there

Helping someone in unexpected ways can lift your own spirits just as much, or more, than the person you help. When you see the elderly woman across the street struggling to carry in some packages, reach out and help. If the family with three children in the grocery line ahead of you is short $5.00 to pay for their food, pitch in. Help one of the neighborhood kids with his or her scouting project. Teach someone a skill that you possess and they don't. Share your talents, share your knowledge, share your life.

Everyone has different ways of coping when the struggle is tough. Find the joy wherever you can and hold onto it. I found joy in my daughter’s beautiful hair that is finally growing back. There’s joy is my grandchildren’s laughter.  There’s joy in plans that work out and sometimes in plans that don’t work out, but the result is still okay, maybe even better. There’s a joy in waking up to a new day, new experiences, new friendships, new opportunities to give back.

Yes, I can claim to be a partial Pollyanna. Would you care to join me?