Norman Vincent Peale is probably turning over in his grave. Ditto Linus Pauling, Joseph Heller and other authors who overcame adversity with laughter and a positive attitude.
Peale’s longtime bestseller, “The Power of Positive Thinking,” has been replaced by Dr. Gerald Amada’s “The Power of Negative Thinking,” and, going him one better, Dr. Julia K. Norem’s “The Positive Power of Negative Thinking,” and, my favorite, Dr. Barbara S. Held’s “Stop Smiling, Start Kvetching,” surely the new mantra of this decade.
Teen-age angst gives way to midlife mood swings and ultimately, elder hostility. Hence the popularity of “Grumpy Old Men.” And while we’ve all had these feelings at some point, we were sternly warned not to wallow in them. The key to happiness is just that: The consistent chucking out of gloomy thoughts and the grim determination to be happy at all cost. You can do it. Just grit your teeth and smile.
Trouble was, this had conflict written all over it. It’s bad enough to feel bad, so to speak, but having some pompous Pollyanna make you feel guilty about it compounds the agony. Apparently, the Boomers, tired of the tyranny, are ready to embrace the new Age of Aggravation. Here’s to guilt-free grouching.
Backing up the argument for letting your ill will flow is, you guessed it, findings of a British study just released at a meeting of the European Society of Medical Oncology. The result: Cancer support groups may help patients feel better, but there’s no evidence they’ll live so much as one extra day. As the old joke goes, it just feels longer.
Curmudgeons unite. Negativity is no longer a no-no. Line up behind Andy Rooney and bitch, bitch, bitch. Lower your expectations (not hard to do in this election year), prepare for the worst, and you won’t be disappointed. You may even have the satisfaction of saying, I told you so. Psychologists call this constructive pessimism.
Positive thinkers call it a self-fulfilling prophecy. Losing one’s temper (nowadays, simply called “losing it”) is still considered bad form in some circles. But anger, our negative New-agers say, can empower you and energize you. In the real world, however, it can make you very unpopular, unless you’re Howard Stern, who seems to equate popularity with TV ratings. I can’t imagine he’s on many lists of sought-after dinner guests.
Anyhow, this business of holding it versus losing it is great fodder for psychologists seeking lucrative book deals. Those determined to have a happy and fulfilling life might be better to seek counseling.
In my experience, anger feeds on itself, and the more you express it, the more it grows. And the language you use to express it, well, words once verboten are now in general parlance and almost impossible to avoid-unless you stick to CleanFlicks (edited movies) and listen to your Walkman in all public places. Once you let fly with a good four-letter expletive, and discover you have not been struck down by a wrathful god, or punched out by an offended observer, you’re much more likely to repeat it. Whether that makes you feel better, is a matter for debate.
It’s true that getting angry releases (along with the four-letters) a shot of adrenaline into your bloodstream, which energizes you and, the experts say, makes you feel more powerful. This can be beneficial if you’re tired but have to stay up all night to finish some work that’s due at 8 a.m. On the other hand, sounding off can get you fired, cussed out, beat up and possibly even shot. So this, in fact, may actually take days off your life span.
When I was young, I had an obnoxious temper. I still do, but learned the hard way not to lose it in front of people. I once had to work with an editor who drove me nearly ballistic. I generally held my tongue; made jokes of his obsessive behavior, shrugging it off as his problem, not mine. This, however, left me talking to myself, like Walter Mitty, all the way home. This was a good thing. It kept me from falling asleep at the wheel and careening over a cliff. So, I suppose, it did add days to my life.
Still, I remain indefatigably optimistic. Cheerful and happy beyond all reason. Courageous in the face of adversity. I think this makes a lot of people mad. They probably see me as one of those pompous Pollyannas. But while my grouchless demeanor isn’t likely to add days to my life (my departure date is surely written somewhere), what days I have seem really quite nice.
Andy Rooney, eat your heart out.