What our brains get wrong about uncertainty, why reframing matters, and how my worst-case scenario became the beginning of my occupassion.

I was talking with a coaching client recently, and she said something that has been rattling around in my brain ever since.

She told me she’d always viewed the world through rose-colored glasses.

And then she wondered aloud whether maybe that was simply how she was supposed to see it. I found that fascinating. Because somewhere along the way, we decided that seeing the world through rose-colored glasses was a bad thing. We associate it with naivety. With ignoring problems. With being unrealistic. But why do we so readily accept looking for everything that could go wrong as the more reasonable perspective?

Why do we treat pessimism like wisdom and optimism like wishful thinking? And what if the lens we’re using has more to do with our experience of life than we realize?

Your Brain Is Basically a Prehistoric Security System

Let’s talk about something called negativity bias.

Psychologist Rick Hanson uses a wonderfully memorable metaphor to describe it: the brain tends to act like Velcro for negative experiences and Teflon for positive ones.

Think about that. You could receive ten compliments in a day and one criticism. Which one are you probably going to think about when your head hits the pillow?

Exactly.

And before you start criticizing yourself for being too negative, understand that there’s an evolutionary explanation for this tendency. Imagine one of our distant ancestors walking across a prehistoric landscape. They see a magnificent sunset. Brilliant colors. Beautiful clouds. An absolutely breathtaking moment.

Lovely.

Then they encounter a saber-toothed predator. Suddenly, the sunset becomes considerably less interesting. Because one of those experiences is beautiful, and the other could kill them.

Remembering danger offered an enormous survival advantage. And over the course of human evolution, becoming highly attentive to threats helped our ancestors stay alive. That’s the simplified evolutionary explanation behind negativity bias. But here’s the problem.

Our modern lives have changed dramatically, and our minds can still respond to perceived threats with tremendous intensity. Today, the threat might be a critical email. A difficult conversation. An unexpected expense. A career setback. Or simply the terrifying possibility that something we’re excited about might not work out. And our brains get busy doing what they do so well.

What if I fail? What if I embarrass myself? What if I make the wrong decision? What if everything falls apart?

Suddenly, our imagination has produced an entire disaster movie, complete with an elaborate plot, catastrophic ending, and probably a sequel nobody asked for.

And we haven’t even done the thing yet.

What If We Changed the Lens?

This is where reframing becomes so valuable.

Reframing isn’t about pretending difficult things aren’t difficult. It’s about examining our circumstances from more than one perspective. It’s recognizing that the first interpretation our brains give us may not represent the entire picture.

Consider the difference between: “What if I fail?” and “What if I learn something that helps me succeed next time?”

Or: “What if they reject me?” and “What if they say yes?”

Or perhaps my current favorite: “What if it all goes right?”

When I think about my client’s rose-colored glasses, I don’t think the goal should be to convince ourselves that everything is wonderful. The goal should be to recognize that we’re allowed to notice wonderful things even when life is complicated. We’re allowed to anticipate positive outcomes. We’re allowed to hope. And we’re allowed to imagine a future that includes more than the things we’re afraid of.

We don’t have to ignore reality to see its possibilities. We simply need a wider lens.

On September 21, My Worst-Case Scenario Happened

Here’s where this becomes personal.

On September 21, 2026, I was terminated from my job. Losing my position was something I’d already identified as my worst-case professional scenario. And it came with very real consequences. Financial uncertainty. Questions about the future. The emotional weight of having a major chapter of my professional life end. But there’s something important about what happened that day.

I had already decided what I would do if I lost my job.

Long before September 21, I’d been asking myself three questions.

Questions that now form the foundation of my coaching philosophy.

1. What can I control?

I couldn’t control every decision being made around me. But I could control how I prepared, what skills I continued developing, and what I chose to do next.

2. What are my options?

I had spent years developing expertise in leadership, training, facilitation, coaching, and professional development. And I had passions and talents beyond those professional roles. I could pursue traditional employment again. But that wasn’t my only option. I could also build something of my own.

3. What is the worst-case scenario?

I could lose my job. And if that happened? I would pursue my occupassion.

That’s what I call the intersection of my occupations and passions: the work that draws on what I’m good at, what I love doing, and the value I can bring to other people’s lives.

I’d already decided that if one door closed, I was going to explore what it might look like to build my own. So when September 21 arrived, I didn’t suddenly discover this possibility. I’d already considered it. That didn’t make the loss painless. It didn’t make the bills disappear. And it certainly didn’t provide any guarantees about the future. But it meant that I wasn’t facing an undefined ending. I had a plan.

And, more importantly, I had given myself permission to imagine that something good might still be possible.

And Then I Discovered Something Extraordinary

Now here’s where this story gets particularly interesting.

As I’ve been preparing to launch my virtual book club, I’ve been reading Resilient Optimism: The Science of Sustaining a Positive Mindset in Tough Times by Michelle Gielan.

The book explores how we can sustain optimism through stress, uncertainty, and change. And I recently discovered something that stopped me in my tracks. The book was published on September 22, 2026.

Literally one day after I lost my job.

And as if that timing weren’t interesting enough, the book’s concluding chapter is titled “The Pivot: Choosing Optimism When It Matters Most.”

The pivot.

I mean, COME ON. Was the universe sending me some sort of cosmic message? I have no idea. And I don’t need to make that claim to appreciate the coincidence. Because the meaning I find in it isn’t that everything was destined to happen exactly this way.

It’s that while this book about sustaining optimism through difficulty was entering the world, I was beginning a new chapter of my own life in which I would need to practice exactly that.

I wasn’t choosing optimism because everything had gone right. I was choosing optimism because something had gone wrong, and I still believed there were possibilities ahead of me. There’s a difference. And I think it’s an important one.

Optimism Is Not a Guarantee

I want to be very clear about something.

Choosing optimism does not mean you can control every outcome. It doesn’t mean difficult emotions disappear. And it doesn’t mean that people experiencing genuine hardship should simply change their attitude.

Sometimes life is painful. Sometimes the circumstances aren’t fair. Sometimes the setback is significant, and the path forward is not immediately clear.

Optimism isn’t a substitute for support, resources, action, or acknowledging reality. But optimistic thinking is something we can practice. We can learn to notice when our minds have become fixated on threats. We can deliberately look for resources and opportunities we may have overlooked. We can give positive experiences the attention they deserve. And we can remind ourselves that uncertainty doesn’t exclusively belong to negative possibilities.

One of the ideas I appreciate about resilient optimism is that it’s not just a feeling. It’s about the behaviors and choices that help us remain engaged with our lives, particularly when things become difficult.

For me, one of those behaviors is asking my three questions. And once I’ve considered my worst-case scenario, I like to add a reminder.

What if it all goes right?

Not because I can guarantee it will. But because imagining failure isn’t any more of a guarantee than imagining success. And if I’m going to use my imagination, I’d prefer to give both possibilities a fair hearing.

Maybe the Sunset Deserves a Little More Attention

Let’s go back to our prehistoric ancestor for a moment.

The saber-toothed predator deserved attention. Absolutely. Recognizing danger was important. But that sunset was still beautiful.

And even though remembering the threat may have been more important for immediate survival, that doesn’t mean the beautiful experience was meaningless.

Sometimes I think that’s what we lose when our minds become so focused on protecting us from everything that could go wrong. We forget to notice the things that are going right. We forget to appreciate what we’ve accomplished. We forget to imagine what might become possible. We become so focused on surviving the next potential threat that we stop experiencing the life happening around us.

And that brings me back to my client and her rose-colored glasses. Maybe the answer isn’t to take them off. Maybe the answer is to develop a lens that allows us to see the entire picture. A lens that recognizes real danger without allowing fear to control every decision. A lens that makes room for disappointment without dismissing hope. A lens that helps us acknowledge where we are while remaining curious about where we might go. That’s what I mean when I talk about seeing resilience through a wider lens.

And Now, I’d Love to Explore This With You

Today, November 1, I’m launching a virtual book club centered around Michelle Gielan’s Resilient Optimism. And given everything I’ve shared here, I can’t imagine a more personally meaningful book to begin with.

We’ll explore the science behind optimism, discuss how our perspectives influence our experiences, and consider practical ways to cultivate resilience in our everyday lives.

This isn’t about gathering together to pretend that life is always wonderful. It’s about having real conversations about how we navigate life when it isn’t. It’s about examining the stories we tell ourselves. And perhaps discovering that we have more options than we initially realized.

If that sounds like a conversation you’d enjoy, I’d love for you to join us.

Send me a message or comment BOOK CLUB on my social media posts, and I’ll share the details.

And if you’re at a point in your life or career where you’re ready for more individualized support, I also work with clients through executive coaching, leadership development, and personal and professional transition coaching. Sometimes a wider lens begins with one conversation.

One Last Thought

On September 21, my worst-case scenario happened. On September 22, a book about resilient optimism was published. And on November 1, I’m choosing to begin a new conversation about the possibilities that exist even when life doesn’t unfold the way we expected. I don’t know exactly where this next chapter of my occupassion will lead. And that’s okay.

Because I’ve learned something important.

I don’t have to know how the story ends to believe that it’s still worth writing.

So here’s my question for you:

If you stopped giving all your attention to what could go wrong, what wonderful possibilities might you finally begin to notice?

Maybe it’s time to put on a different pair of glasses. Or better yet, pick up a wider lens. And just for a moment, consider this: What if it all goes right?

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Keep looking through a wider lens.

Megann Wither

Executive Coach | Speaker | Leadership & Professional Development Facilitator

Turning Chaos into Capability.

Sources and further reading

• Rick Hanson, Overcoming the Negativity Bias
• Rick Hanson, Taking In the Good — Greater Good Science Center
• Michelle Gielan, Resilient Optimism — Harvard Business Review Press