I went a day without saying something negative or pessimistic

Never Done: I went a day without saying something negative or pessimistic

Except that one time the following sentence slipped out: "That's ridiculous." I had just heard a story about a family that hid the fact from their son that he was adopted, and before I knew it, I said that aloud, full of judgment. But the rest of the day I totally did it. It wasn't too difficult, but it took a high level of awareness. For instance, when I was talking about a job I am applying for, I almost said that I'm unlikely to get it, but caught myself. And after seeing a highly praised, highly hyped, underwhelming movie, I was reduced to talking about the cinematography. And early in the day, I wanted to discuss with one person the pros and cons of revealing something to someone else, but I wasn't sure if talking through the cons was negative or pessimistic, so I opted for not having the strategic discussion. I wasn't sure that was useful, but it was interesting to notice how it felt to just not say it. (It felt incomplete, but I'm not sure it was less useful than talking through the potential negatives, because they might be obvious and not really need to be illuminated. On the other hand, they might not be obvious, and I might have chosen to under-strategize and under-communicate, neither of which are particularly helpful.)

One of the strangest parts of the day was that I had barely slept the night before -- I had gone to bed at 11PM, but had lain awake until almost 3AM, and I chose not to talk about that with anyone, because I couldn't imagine talking about it without sounding, and being, negative or pessimistic. And you know what? People who know me well could tell I was very tired, so it's not like I needed to tell them. And if people couldn't tell, I realized it didn't really matter all that much. And that, I think, is the power of the practice. People don't really need to hear me complain, and the things I want to complain about really might not matter all that much.

I think the hardest part of the experiment (I can say what was hard because the experiment is over) was that I felt like I went through the day without my old friend, sarcasm. Like I was stripped of one of my most essential personality traits. Like I wasn't being my genuine self. Like I couldn't be funny. Because I think my humor is often fast humor -- humor that takes a certain level of quick ignition, and this practice slowed me down, and required me to think over every statement, and blanded me out.

So it seems like a continuation of the practice of Silence: Think before speaking, right?

As I write about it, I realize it would be interesting to continue the practice while also reaching for my quick wit, and while noticing if there is place for sarcasm in a day without pessimism.