Pollyanna Is My Go To Plan
I pull out Pollyanna me because it is my go-to-game-plan.
It usually works. Not this time.
I am too happy.
Too upbeat, too enthusiastic.
I tone it down a bit, and try to get to the bottom of things.
Put on my listening face, throwing my Robin Williams act to the wind.
Let’s go in here, I say, where I can hear what you are saying.
I give her full listening mode.
My face is straight.
I do not add words.
I am concerned.
I give her my most empathetic looks.
She gradually trusts me.
Tears are coming now.
We hug.
I feel better, she says.
I am glad for her.
It is not over, but maybe now she can find the tree
And punch her way out of the brambles of the forest.
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