Optimism exists in a dichotomous state.
Drive in one direction, and optimism is a bountiful and luscious garden of springing seeds, cultivating hope in the midst of uncertainty. In many instances, positive thinking about what could be, about what could happen encourages me to continue striding forward. With optimism, the sphere of fear that lives within me unbuckles itself and drifts further from my thoughts. And, this kind of optimistic thinking is not limited to the personal sphere.
Political leaders and figureheads have exercised optimistic thinking throughout the pandemic. Early in the pandemic, British leader Boris Johnson announced that “if we [citizens] show a spirit of unity and determination, there is no doubt that we will beat it [COVID-19]; together we will come through it all the faster, and the United Kingdom will emerge stronger than before.” Similarly, many American politicians have been betting on a coronavirus vaccine to fix what’s broken, to alleviate current difficulties, and ensure that Americans “return to a normal life” as quickly as possible. Perhaps their positive projections for the future, for the speedy development of a vaccine, for the months ahead to follow a more pleasurable trajectory compared to our present situation, are the result of social and political pressure. Nonetheless, optimism has long been equated to success. Those who exercise pessimistic thinking, or focus attention on barriers to improvement, are viewed as being overly critical and negative. For optimists, the pure act of anticipation for the future, especially when it is drawn out to be “normal” or improved, stirs emotional happiness and hopeful thinking. And, many times optimism does drive efforts forward and make us more successful at turning our reality around.
I’ve battled with adopting such optimistic views. My family, firm believers in a religion which glorifies positivity and well-wishing, encourages hopeful thinking. From wholeheartedly believing in the American Dream to leaning into beliefs about a more just society for immigrants, they’ve trusted the notion of progress — of transformation. For them, having faith is not blindly staying positive and believing that problems will solve themselves; rather, optimism and faith are the basis for deriving solutions. Without belief in betterment, even imagining improvements can prove to be difficult.
Yet, with excessive optimism about the future comes an undervaluation of the present. Assuming that the weeks, months, and years ahead will automatically correct themselves blurs the severity of current circumstances. Optimism has the unique power to motivate, but also cover-up. If we focus our attention solely on the possibility of a coronavirus vaccine being developed, we tend to soften the value of our present actions — of mask-wearing, of social distancing, of abiding by societal restrictions. With over 1,000 people dying each day in the United States, the desire to look another way and find alternative channels to rely on is justified. It’s a powerful desire that brings about a feeling of nostalgic optimism, a blind faith in progress, and an unforgiving reliance on intangible ideas preaching normalcy. But, we need to be realistic about our risks and about the possibility that there may be something difficult down the road. Preparing ourselves for the unknown is like navigating a blank space — it’s ambiguous and hazy. It’s burdensome to consider what may seem to be negative. However, awareness of realistic possibilities adds a grounding layer of caution, not pessimism.
Optimism is inherently powerful. It’s necessary for mental peace and risk-taking; without it, we’re less inclined to take risks and explore opportunities. However, exercising cautious optimism and weighing wishful thinking against potential risks is critical to understanding the value of our present actions.
