Cranky bear-dom…

Photo by Becca on Unsplash

Me? Pollyanna? Never conceived of that possibility. Ever. Wait, do you remember the 1960 Disney movie version of Pollyanna? Enough treacly sweetness to make the young me roll my eyes, although, let’s face it, I adored Hayley Mills in that role. And topping off the movie reminder with a solid Merriam-Webster definition: a Pollyanna is characterized by irrepressible optimism and a tendency to find good in everything. (Gag.)

Me? I was Ms. Sarcasm during my high school years. I hang my head in embarrassment at times, recalling how my sarcasm likely hurt people, but it was such a reliable attention-getter for a me who wanted to be seen. (A good reason to be young only once.)

So how the heck did the former Ms. Sarcasm find herself in Pollyanna super-sweet territory? Ironically, it was galvanized by the stress of moving. Oy.

That cranky bear inside me was ready to rear up on her hind legs and become an apex predator during the moving process. What a horrible thing for a peaceful Quaker to say. But it’s true. No prettying it up. Of course, I hadn’t bitten someone’s head off (yet), but my explosive-laden short fuse needed only a match for…..heaven knows what (and I didn’t want to find out.)

You may ask how I transitioned from apex predator to…Pollyanna? Believe me, it wasn’t conscious. I would love to claim intentional credit for the transformation. But, no….

The transformational chain reaction began with, what was likely, a simple trick of the universe. I was driving by the duplex into which I’m moving and saw a pest control truck in the driveway. Major eeeek! Since I have an underlying health condition that may put me at higher risk around pesticides, I did a hasty U-turn in the middle of the road (without checking for oncoming traffic), parked, and caught the pest control tech just as he was leaving. With real anxiety, I asked the pest control gent if he’d sprayed inside, explaining my health concerns. I came across as normal Jan, tamping down my apex predator facade. It-was-an-effort.

This sweet young pest control tech gently explained they never spray inside, only around the structure. Did I say sweet?  Yes, I did. We had a lovely conversation. The tech verbalized empathy for my concerns, and even moseyed into explanation territory about the chemicals used. (Wow!) We talked for another 3 or 4 minutes before I, happily, thanked him for his time and kindness. Let’s ‘fess up, I practically floated back to my car. Yes, floated back to my car….

And my cranky apex predator? She slunk back into her cave while, simultaneously, my head poked up among the clouds. Do I know why I ended up in cloud territory? No. Perhaps the kindness of the pest control tech, relief, whatever. I found myself humming as I backed out of the driveway. Humming? Yes, that too. I felt good, uplifted, with the beginnings of a smile.

Whoa! What happened? Let’s be honest; I don’t know what the pivot point was. However, I do know how much lighter of spirit I felt. It was wonderful. Sooooo, I just kept the mood transformation going. I did.

Ms. Apex Predator has continued to hang out in her cave (no feeding allowed.) And me? I’m on a Pollyanna roll, being nice and upbeat (without being too cloyingly sweet.) The Pollyanna high generated by my consciously positive interactions with people does leave me floating above the ground occasionally, but that’s a safety risk I’m willing to take. Certainly outweighs the stresses and strains of apex predator-dom. Join me?

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