I have a dear friend who seems to be programmed to see the worst in everything. If the traffic he encounters coming to visit me is not horrendous, he will point out the abundance of pot holes, waiting for him, at the corner. If he spends an afternoon jamming with musicians he had never played with before, he’ll feel compelled to comment on shortcomings in their musicianship. Or, if they’re skilled at their instruments, he’ll grouse that the group had no plans to perform; they lacked direction. People and experiences seem chronically disappointing to him. His remarks almost always include a “but.”

I don’t consider myself to be a Pollyanna, or someone who radiates false sunshine, but I consciously try to see the good in things. And I think, at least, I am pretty accepting of the ups and downs that are simply part of life. For the most part, I try not to take things personally. I suppose I have worked on this for years. I don’t automatically assume a less than desired outcome was caused because I lacked something, because forces exist in the universe simply to thwart me, or because of someone else’s stupidity or laziness.

For all the arguments he has made questioning my optimism and promoting a more “realistic” view of the world, I have countered with my understanding of how our perspectives are mostly a matter of choice. “What harm would be caused by choosing a more neutral or positive view on things?” I would ask. “We all like to be around the energy of positive thoughts. You like to be around me, not because of the color of my eyes, but because I hold a good type of energy.” Even after my best pitch, he would stand firmly unconvinced. He wanted science. He wanted facts.

Many years ago, an energetic healer I knew, introduced me to the work of Masaru Emoto, a Japanese scientist who wrote a book called The Messages of Water. I think it was featured in the movie What the Bleep. Emoto conducted experiments on water crystals, documenting how they formed and changed under different energetic influences. Water from fresh, natural sources tended to be beautiful. Crystals also seemed to morph into more beautiful and complex structures when exposed to classical music, prayer, and even words of gratitude.

Great, I thought, perhaps, I had found a scientific argument for positive thinking. I scoured the Internet for pictures and more articles on Emoto’s work. I was often touched by the photographs. For me, they went beyond facts, beyond words, to explain the power of energy, the potentially transforming power of our own best thoughts.

On the Internet, along with articles on Emoto’s experiments and web sites offering blow-out deals on his videos, I saw essays by other scientists denouncing his work as being deficient in methodology. Damn. I can’t direct my curmudgeonly friend to consider Emoto’s work in defense of positive thinking now. It would not be scientific enough for him.

Then I looked at the photograph of a water crystal that was in a jar labeled “thank you.” I knew inside of me the truth in its message. I knew that I feel different when I’m around love or gratitude.

Maybe this knowledge, this recognition of truth beyond facts, cannot be shared. Maybe this awareness is just a gift we all can come to own when we are ready. Imbibing the truth beyond facts is no small thing.