Harrison Baer
Cognitive Behavioral Therapy: The process of rewiring the brain to see the glass as half full, instead of half empty, offering joy in times of sorrow, clarity in moments of calamity, relief amid stress, and light in the dark.
12 hours ago, I ate the worst cheeseburger of my life. The buns were airbags filled with flour, the cheese tasted like something straight from a plastic factory, and the meat? Offensively bad. The meal mirrored the day I’d been having.
I was running on maybe 4 hours of sleep, thanks to the live band from last night—conveniently located directly below my bunk bed—that jammed perpetually well past midnight. A 6:30 AM wake-up call was followed by a grueling three-hour bus ride, during which our tour guide seemed determined to hit the brakes every ten minutes. To top it all off, the ferry to Iona was canceled.
That’s when I ate the worst cheeseburger of my life. At this point, the easiest option was to write off the day as a failure. I was a sleepless, shivering, sneezing bundle of bad fortune.
Narrative 2: Same morning, same circumstances, and told from the same person –
Last Saturday, I woke at the crack of dawn and stepped out onto the porch of my quaint hotel. I patiently gazed across the Scottish coast, as a cool, mild breeze gently blew across my face. As the sun rose, it gradually illuminated the harbor before me. The black sea water grew to an emerald green while the dark sky warmed to a soft baby blue. Old fashioned ferries and rustic sailboats glided slowly, in and out of the rocky shore. The view was deserving of a painting—one that, if painted, would be put in the Louvre.
Next came the ferry to Mull, a sizable island East of the Scottish mainland. Outside on deck, the wind whipped, whistled, and wheezed, and the sun bathed the sky in a golden-yellow hue with a blanket of clouds. Halfway through the cruise, the boat entered a landscape of wonders. On the left was a medieval castle perched upon Mull’s coastline, and on the right a radiant rainbow arched gracefully from the choppy sea, backdropped by a row of monstrous Lord of the Rings-esque mountains.
Both of these stories are accurate and true. That morning I was frustrated, exhausted, frigid, and grumpy, yet I was also thrilled, joyful, and awed by the serene Scottish Highlands. The day, with all its flaws and perfections, teetered precariously between being terrible and wonderful Only one factor would determine if it was the former or the latter.
Sixty years ago, Dr. Aaron T. Beck developed Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, a revolutionary approach that helps rewire the brain to foster positive outlooks instead of negative ones. Beck coined the term “automatic thoughts” – those quick, instinctive, negative reactions we have to challenges.The goal of CBT is to transform these harmful automatic thoughts into constructive, optimistic perspectives. Instead of thinking, “Our trip is ruined,” CBT says: “We have a new, unexpected adventure ahead.”
Back to the day of endless ups and downs. The second ferry had just been canceled, and, being famished I set out for lunch. I sent a quick prayer to the man above, asking for a better turn of events. Then came that horrid cheeseburger. That putrid abomination that you could not pay me to eat again. I still remember my first thought after taking that first bite.
“This is the most disgusting burger I have ever had. This day sucks.”
But right then, I paused. Am I really going to let one bad cheeseburger ruin my day? In that moment, I recalled my training in Cognitive Behavioral Therapy. I told myself that I was not going to let this cheeseburger ruin my day. This was still a good day.
After a disappointing afternoon, our troope hopped back in the van and set out to a nearby castle. 10 minutes into that bus ride, a group of maybe 10 highland cows appeared on our left. The beasts were magical with their horns, looking like something straight out of Narnia. The tour guide parked the bus, and a few of us stepped out to get a closer look at these creatures. I decided to confront the cow and walk straight up to it. I crept closer and closer until the beast was a mere 10 feet away. If he decided to charge at me, I would maybe get in 2 strides before he sent me on a fast track to the ER. However he remained still, and we shared a silent bond for a two good minutes before it parted ways.
In that moment of total vulnerability, a surge of adrenaline coursed through my body. Despite the danger of the position, and the feeling of being utterly out of control, what filled me wasn’t fear—it was a sense of power.
I truly believe that cheeseburger was sent by some divine power to test my inner strength. It came at a pivotal moment, where the outcome of my day could swing either way—toward success or despair. Developing a positive energy required a robust strength to defeat the harmful, instinctive, negative thoughts.
You couldn’t pay me to eat that cheeseburger again, but next time I take a bite into something that bad, I’m not going to be mad. Instead I’m going to smile and chuckle, because I know I’m on the verge of a great day.
