What Positivity Means to Me

I’ve always considered myself a positive person. But let’s be clear—I’m not the kind of person bouncing off the walls, grinning ear to ear, shouting my love for life from the rooftops. That’s not me. And frankly, given my circumstances, if I were doing that, something would be seriously wrong. So what does positivity mean to me?

Living with a terminal condition that worsens by the week—especially after receiving the view from my neurologist that there are no treatment options at this stage—having retired from a career I loved, and spending most of my days at home while my wife and daughter prepare to go on our dream 50th birthday cruise without me—it’s fair to say that traditional, high-energy positivity just wouldn’t make sense. For me, that kind of forced cheerfulness would feel fake. Not positivity, but denial.

So what does positivity mean to me?

• It means I wouldn’t trade where I currently am in life for anyone else’s. Truly. That, to me, is the essence of real positivity. I have a great life. I’ve faced fewer tragedies than many—by a long stretch—and I’m blessed with the most wonderful family in the world.
• It means acknowledging the pain and loss without letting them define me. Yes, I get angry. Yes, I get sad. I miss my career. I miss traveling. I miss being independent. I miss the simple joys—days out with my children, spontaneous trips whether to Eilat, Japan, or just the cinema. Those moments are gone.
• But despite all that, I am happy. I am satisfied. And yes, I am positive.
• Above all, I have deep faith in God and trust that He is all good—and that whatever happens is what’s best for me, even if I don’t understand it.
• And whilst I obviously want a miracle and a way out of this, I’m not depending on one for my happiness. God gives me miracles every day, and I’m truly blessed. So I’m not waiting, deserving, or depending on the lightning-strike miracle that others may wish for.

Positivity, for me, isn’t about pretending everything is perfect. It’s about finding peace in what is, and gratitude in what I have and had. It’s about choosing to see the beauty in my life, even as it changes in ways I never imagined.

I am, however, far, far, far from done. I’m giving this as much fight as possible—daily prayers, regular exercise, Pilates twice a week, a personal trainer once a week, physiotherapy, massage, tablets, hope, and a whole lot of chess and mentoring. I’m still in this, fully and fiercely.

So I may not look like Mr. Happy to you, but inside I truly am—trust me on this.