Deborah Halverson's Blog

I’m not sure, and there’s no way to confirm my suspicion, but I have this strange feeling that Pollyanna has taken up residence in my body. And even stranger still, I like being possessed. By her, anyway.

Lately I’ve been trying to lay my finger on the mood I’ve been in since my family and I moved back to the U.S. after our year in England, and today it finally dawned on me. The mood I’m experiencing is—dare I say it?—serenity.

And that’s a very strange mood to lay claim to after five years of the triplet experience. Honestly, there were days in that first year with three infants when someone daring to tell me to embrace serenity would’ve gotten a knuckle sandwich in the sniffer. Three small children of the same age can be a serious roadblock to peace of mind.

Nevertheless, that’s what I’m feeling now. Not to say I’m a candidate for Dalai Lama or that I’m sitting around chanting “ohmmmm…” in an incense-induced stupor. Little daily annoyances still irk me, yes—I spend ten hours a day, five days a week, interacting almost exclusively with five-year-olds; I get tired and it shows. I’m human. But on a grander scale, I’m feeling quite satisfied with our life. Things that used to work me into a stress case—finding writing time, or work-out time, or time to teach my boys reading skills or to plan mind-expanding crafts for them—they don’t bother me these days. I do what I can, when I can, and what I can’t accomplish, I don’t sweat. With relatively few exceptions, I feel like I’m embodying the lines voiced daily in AA meetings all over the country: I have the serenity to accept what I can’t change, the courage to change what I can change, and the wisdom to know the difference. I may be jinxing myself with the Powers that Be by saying that, but so be it. We’re quick to complain in this world and to list our faults; shouldn’t we be just as quick to celebrate good fortune without having to worry about cosmic retaliation?

Now here’s the interesting part: Even as I’ve let go of stressing about small and big things alike—choosing instead to weigh, decide, and then move on without regret—I’ve become more productive on all fronts. I’m cranking out the writing projects, I’m working out five times a week, I’m hanging out with my husband more, and I’ve been more patient with my children than I’ve ever been. I feel like I’m in a strange little vortex, with Pollyanna whispering in my ear, “See, when you look for the good, you find it.”

I acknowledge that recent events in Haiti have put this mindset into relief for me. As I read the news coming out of that horrific situation, and I consider how many other atrocities are befalling innocent people in other areas of the world even as I sit at my computer watching the video feeds and munching away on snacks or lunch, I actually find myself playing, out loud, Pollyanna’s Glad Game. I sit there listing out loud things I’m glad for. It sounds stunningly hokey, I know, but this active celebration of Good Stuff feels, well, good.

In fact, it’s starting to eek out in many surprising ways. Like in my blog posts, where I find myself writing about “Good People” day after day. And in my reading choices, where I find myself mooning over the wonderful Mr. Putter and Tabby Write the Book, which ends with Mr. Putter lamenting that he’s written a list of the good things in his life instead of the mystery novel he’d set out to write, only to have Mrs. Teaberry respond, “The world is full of mystery writers. But writers of good things are few and far between.” Amen, Mrs. T.

So, maybe I’m channeling a little of Mrs. Teaberry in there with Pollyanna, I don’t know, but all I can say is, give it a try. Yeah, you. Turn off your geek meter and dare to play the Glad Game. It won’t hurt. You’d easily list off the rotten things about your day, wouldn’t you? No one would think that’s weird. They’d probably chime in with an “I hear ya, sista” and then maybe one-up you, right? I say try being as freely vocal about your Good Stuff for a change. Do you feel that reluctance kick in? Maybe that’s because we’ve been trained not to brag, or maybe not to rub people’s faces in our good fortune, or maybe not to tempt Fate, but whatever the reason, it’s not as easy for people to wallow in the good as it is to wallow in the bad. Shove that knee-jerk reluctance away. If you need to, try playing the Glad Game silently at first, or out loud in your car with no one around. Then, when it doesn’t feel so weird, actually try listing your Good Stuff to your spouse or good friend.  I have a feeling that knee-jerk reluctance will kick in again—but don’t let it. Kick it right back. As I’ve been finding out in the past few months, as contagious as complaining is, rejoicing in Good Stuff is just as viral.

And this is one virus I’m happy to spread.