Month 3: On Words, Coat Racks, and Pauses

Last month in Costa Rica, my Happiness Project focused on words—specifically ditching needless negativity and gossip while cranking up the kindness and encouragement. Since words are notoriously hard to photograph, I've included some pictures of Costa Rican wildlife instead. You're welcome.

The Coat Rack Problem

My mom loves sharing Paul Tripp's wisdom that saying something negative is like setting up a coat rack—suddenly you've created an anchor where you and others can hang even more negative thoughts and gossip. Meeting new people from completely different backgrounds, I was determined not to set up that coat rack.

The problem? Negativity feels so easy. It's like conversational fast food—instant gratification that brings people together through shared complaints. "Besides," I'd justify, "wouldn't it be delusional to pretend people don't have flaws?"

My strategy was simple: wait just a little bit longer. Hold off on verbalizing those thoughts for just a beat more. Hold off on sealing my judgment of someone's actions for just another moment.

This reminded me of "The Advice Trap" by Michael Bungay Stanier, who suggests staying "curious for just a little bit longer" before offering advice, because when we fail to wait long enough, often we fail to understand the root problem or motivation, and with that, we can come to bad conclusions and worse advice.

I decided that I could afford to hold my tongue a little bit because let's be honest—I wasn't witnessing war crimes. I was watching someone get passionate about politics, or be grumpy after a long day, or vent about getting ripped off. My commentaries in these moments weren’t exactly earth-shattering.

The brutal truth? Most of my negative talk is just self-entertainment. I'm not processing emotions or protecting friends—I'm basically running a one-woman roast show. Matthew C. Mitchell's book "Resisting Gossip" convicted me with this line: "The foolish people of this world don't exist for my entertainment." Ouch.

So my mother coined our mantra: "pause for positivity." (I'm sure she wasn't the first—I’m probably about to get sued by some wellness company.) But it became our little rallying cry because unfortunately nobody congratulates you for not being mean. It seems that you must reach Mother Teresa levels of sainthood before anyone notices your absence of negativity. So even though it sounds like something cross-stitched on a throw pillow, "pause for positivity" became our way of recognizing each other's efforts.

The Joy of Building People Up

Traveling created the perfect laboratory for encouragement. At an international language school, I was one of the many people who felt like a toddler fitting words together as if they were wooden blocks.

What struck me was how much more meaningful specific encouragement felt compared to generic praise. "You're doing so well" is basically like getting a participation trophy. "I heard you use the past tense at dinner last night! That's awesome—didn't you just learn that three days ago?" means something quite deep and exudes intentionality.

The environment also taught me that encouragement doesn't always need words. Sometimes a genuine smile, a laugh at the right moment, or simply being present with someone who's struggling with a new skill speaks louder than any verbal affirmation. I watched this play out repeatedly—people would light up not just from what was said, but from feeling truly seen and supported in their efforts.

One of my greatest joys is being a safe encourager for others, and this month reminded me why: making others happy made me happy. It's a beautifully cyclical process, and I'm increasingly convinced that moods are contagious in the best possible way.

The Surprising Results

Several people I became friends with were total surprises—people I might have written off if I'd set up that negative coat rack early on.

The coat rack, it turns out, works for positivity too. What initially felt like biting my tongue eventually became genuinely having nothing negative to say. By waiting a little longer to discover people's good qualities, I found that practically everyone has them lurking just under the surface. If someone has even one hook where I can hang positivity, combating gossip becomes much easier.

This month was far less quantifiable than my usual Happiness Project experiments. I suspended my typical meticulous record-keeping because tracking compliments felt disingenuous for something so relational. I tend to be driven by checked boxes, but I didn't want something so human to become transactional.