The Best Worst-Case Scenario.

I wish I could remember who originated the concept. It was years ago when I first read about it in Ladies Home Journal or some supermarket women’s magazine. The advice was that, when you’re faced with a difficult situation, ask yourself: What is the worst thing that could happen? Then, once you’ve got that worst-case scenario in mind, ask yourself another question: If the worst thing did happen, what would I do?

It’s brilliant, because A) the worst thing that could happen probably won’t, but B) if it does, you’re ready for it. And C) if you have a strategy for dealing with the very bad, then any thing that happens on the spectrum between the worst thing and the best thing, will be a piece of cake to deal with. Because you have a plan.

If you’re really susceptible to pessimism, this may not be a good exercise for you; you don’t want to fall into a rabbit hole of negative thinking. And folks who believe in the Law of Attraction—that you draw to you the thing you think about—will be squeamish about giving any mental energy to any “worst thing.”

But I don’t dwell on the worst. I don’t expect the worst. And my focus isn’t on the “bad thing.” My focus is on the best thing I could do about it. What could I do to turn an unpleasant situation into something good? How would I make the best of a bad turn of events?

A fine example lies with the parents who lost children in the Katrina floods or the tsunami in the Indian Ocean—and then adopted orphans who’d lost their own parents. Their “worst case” didn’t devastate them; instead it resulted in incredible generosity and an outpouring of healing love. Of course I’m sure they hadn’t anticipated the tragedy they'd faced—who could have imagined that? But the point is that they found strength and hope when it was most likely to have been washed away. That’s what the exercise is about to me: looking for strength, tapping into hope.

What’s the worst that could happen? What’s the best I could do? Once I imagine the thing and then see myself dealing with it, it doesn’t feel like the end of the world. I see where my resources lie. I make note of—and give thanks for—my support system. Worry disappears, and a sense of empowered gratitude takes its place. And that’s the best-case scenario.