I grew up in the 70’s in the suburbs of Long Island, where every day was filled with beautiful green lawns, lovely homes, safe schools. I never read the newspaper and I never watched the news on television. It could be said that I grew up in a very insulated community. What did I have to worry about other than doing well in school, dealing with boy crushes and finding ways to get to the mall? But this is not at all how I felt. For at least sixty minutes every night during my childhood, my heart would race and I’d inevitably feel like the world was coming to an end. This sixty minutes was dinner time. Why? Throughout dinner, my parents would openly discuss current events, such as the assassination attempt on President Reagan, Black Monday in the stock market, the hostage crisis in Iran, and the bombing of Pan Am Flight 103 over Lockerbie. These frightening world events filled my thoughts throughout the day and I began to wonder how I would ever be safe in a world where such horrible things could happen. I never told my parents how I was feeling. Instead I held it all in and became… a worrier.
As an adult, I realized that the reason I never said anything to my parents about my feeling of doom and gloom at the dinner table was that I didn’t know there was an option other than to worry. I don’t think my parents knew either. My mother and father were worriers in an era when there were no blogs, online articles or television segments titled, “How to tell your children about scary events in the world.” With all the fear and worry in my home, I honestly believed the world was a scary place and there was nothing my parents or anybody else could do about it.
My parents are now in their 80’s. I recently asked them why they had not been more careful about how they talked with me and my siblings about current events so many years ago. My parents told me, essentially, they believe you can’t hide from what is happening in the world. They actually wanted their children to know about everything that was happening so we would be prepared with the knowledge of how to face problems and handle our lives appropriately.
What I don’t think they realized then or now is that teaching their children about current events–including some very scary stuff–was only part of the formula for preparing us to face fears about an uncertain world and handle things appropriately. The other essential tool that I needed, and I think my siblings would agree, was something to help me deal emotionally with what was happening, something to help me find strength and resilience to face uncertain times.
Many years later, I live in New York City with my husband and two daughters. My children are exposed to troubling world events far beyond the dinner table. My older daughter was in nursery school about one mile from the World Trade Center on 9/11 and even closer to the terrorist attack last year when a car mowed people down on the West Side Highway. My children, like all children in the United States, are now exposed through social media from the minute they wake up until they go to sleep to stories of new types of terrorism, mass shootings at schools, global warming, and a host of other complex problems in the world. While I don’t want my children to feel like I did as a child–that the world is a terrible place and that we’re all doomed– I also don’t want to insulate them from what’s actually going on in the world, even if I could. My parents were right to educate me, but I have to do more. I have to give my children more tools than I was given to handle these even more uncertain times.
After 9/11, I was watching a news program and a psychologist came on to share her advice about speaking to children about the terrorist attacks. This psychologist said that one of the things I could do to comfort my children was to tell them that most people are safe from terrorist attacks and natural disasters in the world. As much as I like the fact that there is high statistical chance that my children will not be touched by horrendous acts of terrorism or environmental tragedies, would this really give them what they need to accept the uncertainties of life? There had to be a better perspective to give them besides statistics, a better tool to help then navigate these uncertain times.
As my daughters got a little older, I seized on the idea to teach them to be positive thinkers. I had met people though my business dealings that were very successful entrepreneurs who were positive no matter what they faced. Most of them seemed to weather a lot of uncertainties like losing big clients, and even filing bankruptcies only to start a new business the next day. The first time I realized the limits of trying to help my daughters cultivate a perspective of positive thinking to deal with the unknown was when my oldest tried out for her first school play. She told me that she was going to stay really positive about getting a part because when you think positive, good things happen. “That’s wonderful, honey!” I beamed. The day the cast list went up her name was not there. She said she couldn’t believe it and kept looking at the list again and again for her name. She came home crying hysterically and yelling, “Positive thinking doesn’t work! I’m never trying out for a play again!”
I realized that I could keep trying to teach my older daughter a life perspective of positive thinking, but if she could lose this perspective over not getting a part in a play, how would she stay positive when she saw truly bad things happening all around her? To harness the power of positive thinking, my daughter would need to sustain relentless optimism in the face of very real obstacles that obscured the road ahead. A positive perspective can be very challenging when someone loses hope during difficult times or is afraid of uncertainty. Just like myself and many other adults, children, too, can get stuck on the idea, “If today doesn’t work out, nothing will ever change in the future.” So what could I teach my children to sustain them through the uncertainty of the future?
After much trial and error in my adult life, I decided to teach my daughters the same perspective that has finally helped me face the unknown with more strength and vigor. I taught them a way of thinking I refer to as the Maybe mindset. When I feel worried or uncertain, I tell my children the same thing I have learned to tell myself. As bad as things may look or feel in any given moment, there is always the possibility that—Maybe, just Maybe—what is happening will turn out good. Maybe it will get better or Maybe we can accept what we are experiencing…and still be okay. Beyond statistics or positivity, Maybe is a much broader view of all that is possible even when a given moment is difficult.
The thing I love most about the Maybe mindset is that it is real. The Maybe mindset doesn’t promise my children that things will go back to the way they were before something bad happened, nor does it deny that bad things are happening in the world. Maybe merely allows my children to stand in the present and see what else is possible for this moment and the future. Maybe does not force my children to feel differently about a situation than they already do. This is important. If I try to suppress my children’s negative thoughts and replace them with positive thoughts, their stress and worry has nowhere to go but to fester. With the idea of Maybe, my children can recognize they are scared or worried about what is happening in the world and at the same time recognize there is an opening they can take whenever they are ready.
Is the Maybe mindset hard to sustain? Well, it takes practice. It is put to the test every day, especially after a horrific event like the recent school shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Florida. Maybe doesn’t mean my children are not unbelievably sad about this tragedy. It doesn’t mean they didn’t feel scared as they walked to their respective schools the day after the shooting. But they both immediately recognized, as did I, that as awful as this event was, Maybe was still at play. They realized that Maybe the latest shooting will force people to look at gun control more seriously. Maybe there will be new legislation passed. Maybe my girls can be part of the solution. The Maybe mindset keeps their worst fears at bay, and instead gives them strength to stay active in their communities and have hope that as life changes there are good possibilities amidst all the bad.
With the Maybe mindset, my children know that uncertainty is not the problem, but instead it is their fear of what will be that can cripple them to move forward with their lives. Whether they are struggling at school with friends, health issues or fears of global warming, war, or famine, the idea of Maybe has become a guiding light that allows them to clear their worries so they can focus on all life can offer. With this mindset, my children understand that they can sit in the uncertainty with fear, anxiety or total despair or they can realize there may be a way out, a way forward or simply another way to look at what is before them. And even if my children’s fears do become reality as fears sometimes do, Maybe will help them see that the next moment brings a chance for something new once again.
And Maybe may just do more. Maybe may help all of our children grow into adults who have the resilience and flexibility to solve big problems, to become strong leaders in a world that definitely needs more “what’s possible” thinkers. And what is possible? Maybe they can find a way to make the world a better place for everyone.
For weekly information on how to reduce stress and worry check out my podcast, 10 Minutes To Less Suffering, follow me @giftofmaybe or Instagram, follow my Blog or check out my book The Gift of Maybe.
Originally Published in Psychology Today