Dr. Carolyn Lee reflects on a different cliché each week. Recently, in her blog “Your Call Is Important to Us,” she reflects on our responsibilities as responders. This week, Carolyn explores the cliché, the sunny side of the street.
Learn more about Dr. Carolyn Lee on her biography page or investigate 29 more clichés in her latest book, Keep Your Eye on the Ball And Other Clichès to Live By.
The Sunny Side of the Street
The subject of this blog is cheerfulness. I’m writing about cheerfulness because I need to. Watching the news last night tested my commitment to optimism. Learning that Covid is on the rise—again, being reminded that an alarming segment of the American public has gone off the rails, seeing videos of terrifying natural disasters, watching people all over the world rebelling against corrupt governments or holding malnourished babies or desperately fleeing countries where life has become unbearable is enough to send a person into a downward spiral of despair. It is a challenge, in these “unprecedented” (there’s that word again) times to walk on the sunny side.
I recently came across this quotation by Michel de Montaigne: “The most certain sign of wisdom is constant cheerfulness.” I had never thought of such a thing. I realized that Montaigne’s definition of cheerfulness had to go beyond putting on a happy face. When I read further on the topic, I discovered that Montaigne believed cheerfulness to be a complex, “radically non-naïve” spiritual state or attitude, a learned discipline. He believed that cheerfulness had to be cultivated through practice; it had to be a way of life. Cheerfulness means looking for the best in people, approaching negative events with a certain stoicism and walking through life with good humor, humility, and a hopeful attitude. A tall order.
Although putting on a happy face might seem radically naïve, it does serve a purpose in the quest for cheerfulness. The origin of the word cheerfulness is the old French word meaning “face.” In the 19th century, a French writer, Madame de Staël, expressed the belief that, even though you might not feel particularly happy, if you put a cheerful expression on your face, it will “transform the interior of the self.” So, at least, the face is a place to begin. Our facial expression is something over which we have control, and that makes cheerfulness “elective.”
Timothy Hampton, a professor at UC Berkely, wrote a book called Cheerfulness: a Literary and Cultural History. In it, he suggests that cheerfulness is a “resource—you can make it, manage it, and put it into action.” He also believes, and I do, too, that cheerfulness is contagious. It is certainly true that a cheerful person can entirely change the atmosphere in a room or alter the course of a conversation.
I offer my mother as an example of a cheerful person. I don’t think she was determined to be cheerful or that she even thought about it much. It’s just who she was—and everybody knew it. Her upbeat attitude and her infectious laugh were her hallmarks. She cared for my father for thirteen years after he had a debilitating stroke. She felt his situation deeply, and I saw her cry many times, but she never sank into sustained depression or wallowed in self-pity. Many times, when I visited my parents, A.S. (that is After Stroke), my mom would get Dad to bed, then come to the family room to watch television. Among my favorite memories are listening to her laugh her head off at reruns of The Golden Girls or Hogan’s Heroes. Gloom and doom? She wasn’t having it.
So, if we’re determined to be more cheerful, where do we begin? (After we’ve experimented with our facial expressions). How about with an attempt to experience and appreciate the beauty of the natural world? Ralph Waldo Emerson had a lot to say about the source of cheerfulness. His belief was that a truly cheerful person has the ability to see the beauty of the world, to see things for “the lovely light that sparkles from them.” Shakespeare, too, expressed the opinion that to “look on all things well” was the key to a cheerful disposition.
Most writers who philosophize about cheerfulness point out the difference between being cheerful and being happy. Although Beverly Sills was an American operatic superstar, her life was not without tragedy. Her daughter was born hearing impaired, and her developmentally disabled son had to be institutionalized when he was six years old. She said, “I’m not happy. I’m cheerful. There’s a difference. A happy woman has no cares at all. A cheerful woman has cares but has learned how to deal with them.”
Cheerfulness is an act of the will. We can “cheer up” if we want to. We can rise above grief and loss and pain and look for the good to offset the bad. Garrison Keillor said it this way: “Adopting cheerfulness as a strategy does not mean closing your eyes to evil. It means resisting our drift toward compulsive dread and despond.”
Medical thinkers in the 19th century believed that certain stimulants countered melancholy and generated cheerfulness. One of them suggested “one glass of wine (not two), bright music and a well-lit room.” Another thought good company, dallying and kissing, drinking and dancing were the answers. In 1696, an English doctor prescribed a powder to stimulate cheerfulness: mix up some clove, basil, saffron, lemon peel, bits of ivory, leaves of gold and silver with shavings from the heart of a stag, and good cheer was guaranteed. At this moment, I don’t have all those ingredients. What I do have is a bottle of Chardonnay. I will have one glass (not two). Cheers!
What’s after The Sunny Side of the Street?
Check out Dr. Carolyn Lee’s blogs on her website, she features a new cliché each week or you can order her new book, Keep Your Eye on the Ball And Other Clichès to Live By. Want to know more about the woman behind the words? Read more about Carolyn here. We hope you enjoyed this article learning more about the cliché, the sunny side of the street.
