I’m whizzing down the freeway in my minivan with a knot in my stomach. I’m approximately 3.5 minutes later than I’d hoped to be to pick up my son from school. If I don’t get there soon, that dumb Land Rover will take the last spot in the pickup line, and I’ll have to park two streets over, get out of my nicely air-conditioned minivan, and hoof it up the hill.
Ugh.
My exit is fast approaching, and I can see the traffic light at the end of the off-ramp. It’s GREEN! That will buy me at least 90 seconds and probably enough time to beat the Land Rover!
My heart pounds as I accelerate. I don’t even realize I’m holding my breath.
Just then, a Camry absentmindedly, and EVER SO SLOWLY, cuts in front of me on the off-ramp. I’m forced to brake and slow down to the actual speed limit. I lay on my horn as the light turns yellow…and then red.
NOOOO!!!!
Now let’s take an alternative look at the facts of that day:
I’m driving a minivan with air conditioning down a freeway with no traffic.
I’m on my way to pick up my beloved son from his awesome school, filled with people who have been pouring love and knowledge into him all day.
I was a tiny bit later than I like to be because I was having a deep and meaningful conversation with a dear friend whom I adore.
I’m going to make it to school in plenty of time. I’m not even going to be late.
Yes, I’ll probably have to park farther away and get out of my car, but I’m wearing a FITBIT on my wrist that literally counts my steps. The short walk to the front of the school might actually help me reach my goal.
The lady in the Land Rover is actually a lovely human being with a toddler who probably needs that parking spot more than I do.
So why is it so difficult to hold onto that perspective? Why can a single slow-moving Camry and one missed green light temporarily outweigh everything else that is good about my life?
There’s actually a name for this: the negativity bias
The negativity bias is our tendency to give more attention and emotional weight to negative experiences than to positive or neutral ones, even when the negative experiences themselves are relatively minor.
And there’s a pretty good reason our brains work this way.
Imagine you step outside your front door and see your beautiful rose bush. But last year, you saw a hungry tiger crouching behind that same rose bush.
You’re probably never going to look at those roses quite the same way again.
Instead of simply enjoying the fragrant blossoms, you’re going to be wary every time you walk out the door. Because if you make a mistake and think there’s a tiger behind the bush when there isn’t one, no big deal. But if you make a mistake and think there is no tiger behind the bush when there actually is one?
Well.
The consequences are a bit more grisly.
Modern-day tigers
Our brains are extraordinarily sensitive to potential threats for good reason. The problem is that these days, there is almost never a tiger behind the rose bush. Our modern-day “tigers” are much more likely to be traffic jams, difficult conversations, overflowing inboxes, rude comments, missed deadlines, and ladies in Camrys who apparently have nowhere to be.
But our brains don’t always know the difference.
The kind of tiger most of us actually meet.
A perceived threat can still activate the body’s stress response, preparing us to fight or flee, and making us more likely to snap at our spouse, lose our patience with our kids, or lay on the horn at a perfectly innocent Camry driver.
That response is incredibly useful when an actual tiger is chasing you.
It’s considerably less useful when you might have to park two streets away.
Three ways to practice
The good news is that we can learn to notice our negativity bias and intentionally give more attention to what is good, safe, funny, meaningful, and beautiful in our lives. Here are a few ways to practice:
Notice when your body goes into threat mode. If your heart is pounding, your fists are clenched, or you’re holding your breath, recognize that your nervous system may have shifted into fight-or-flight mode. Simply noticing what’s happening can help you begin to regulate. Take a slow breath. Look around. Ask yourself: Is there actually a tiger here?
Laugh at the paper tiger. Sometimes a little perspective, and a little humor, can interrupt the whole cycle. You guys, I was wearing a Fitbit, for heaven’s sake. I was furious about having to take more steps.
Practice noticing the roses. Keep a gratitude journal, take a moment at the end of the day to name what went well, or simply pause when something good happens long enough to actually experience it. Our brains may naturally notice the tigers first. That doesn’t mean we can’t train ourselves to notice the roses, too.
There are usually far more roses in our lives than tigers.
Sometimes we just have to teach our brains to look for them.
