To use my own adventures as cases of optimism in action, each day I’m required to seek the silver lining in every cloud. Such an expedition calls for depth of character, keen perception and emotional intelligence. Things I don’t claim to hold a patent for. But I intend to learn as I go along.

Perception is nine tenths of reality, agree? Well, observe as I see the world for the befogging atmosphere I sometimes think it is, then through trial and error realize how brilliant it can be. The scene? A random park in Queens. My mood that day? Open to suggestions. The only problem? It glared at me like I was some pesky gnat.

He was roughly, oh I would say, uh, six feet nine inches tall, two hundred and seventy pounds of unrestricted brawn. He had froggy eyes, green teeth, sported all black from head to toe, and was knocking out push-ups in the playground. Children were screaming and running for their lives. Their parents were quickly herding them into vans, driving them home, and reassuring them God was still on the throne.

I mean, this guy was a menace. He looked like he’d spent years in prison eating weights for breakfast. Staunchly opposed to weaklings, he’d returned to society with a hundred-pound chip on his shoulder. Woe to the dude dumb enough to tell him, “excuse me sir, I think you’ve got something on your shoulder. . .”

I was a bit worried. Why the hell was he looking my way? Did he see me as a weakling? Great. I kept thumbing through my book only fifteen yards or so from where brawny and his cohorts were being rowdy. Officially schizoid and slightly neurotic, it doesn’t take much to make me think. Was this guy trying to intimidate me with all the noise, the glare, and all the muscles? Did he think I was soft? Were we bound to have a confrontation? Would he crush me underfoot with his big Paul Bunion feet? Or maybe I could overcome his assault as in the case of David and Goliath. I gazed about for a sling shot and a rock but had no luck in finding a weapon. I feared the worst and hoped for the best.

Gradually, my anxiety ebbed as I focused on my book. It was a good one too. Something about a goldfish emerging from the bowl and strangling the homeowner. It was a whodunnit. So, I made up my mind to stay in my zone and happily read on. Eventually, the high decibel give and take between brawny and his boys settled down to a more reasonable volume. Then they paused for a moment. And all of them looked at me curiously as I sat unnerved. It seemed they admired my determination to not be flustered. That was my little way of standing my ground for crying out loud. Of course, I could have easily sustained a handsome beatdown for that, but that’s not the point. The point is I recognized brawny as an individual with a right to his space and his peace. And by remaining where I was, I sort of challenged him to do the same for me. And what do you know, he did. And his boys followed his example. When I finally left the area, (once the goldfish was arrested, after a struggle) I acknowledged brawny with a glance. He returned a respectful nod, and even a toothy grin. If not the devil, the dentist was definitely in his future!

So, what did I gather from this? I’ve realized the mightiest men are as willing to learn and grow as anybody else. And through the power of disposition alone, the average individual, meek as they may be, can inspire reflection and consideration even from people who seem to have minimal feeling. Any contention between two parties can easily be turned into a triumph of reasoning.

But if you’re having difficulty being optimistic, call the Mental Health Hotline at 866-903-3787. Or call 988.