Burning Beneath

Today I came across a sentence on Facebook that made me pause. It said something along the lines of “Don’t forget to imagine the best case scenario”. The wording wasn’t exact, but the idea stayed with me.

Most of us, when preparing for something important, imagine the worst case scenario. A test, a project, a life decision, we mentally rehearse failure so we can protect ourselves from disappointment. There is comfort in knowing where we might land if things go wrong.

I remember doing exactly that when I was preparing for my high school finals in Baghdad. Those exams determined what university programs we could apply to. I wanted medical school, which required very high scores. I had always been an excellent student, but fear began to creep in. The pressure of how these exams might shape my future started affecting how I studied and how I felt about myself.

Around that time, I read How to Stop Worrying and Start Living by Dale Carnegie. One story stayed with me. It described a military officer who would prepare by imagining the worst possible outcome. He would accept that “zero point” in his mind, convince himself he could survive it, and then focus only on moving forward from there. Any effort he made would be better than zero.

That idea grounded me. I wrote it on a piece of paper and placed it in front of my desk. Since then, I’ve often approached life that way, understanding the worst case, accepting it, and then doing my best to move forward.

And it worked. I succeeded in many things. I built a career. I handled challenges. I kept moving.

But today, that sentence I read shifted something in me.

During the deepest periods of my depression, I used to escape into imagined worlds while lying in bed. In those moments, everything was beautiful, colorful, and full of possibility. My wishes came true in those imagined places. The people I loved were happy. I was happy. It wasn’t real, but it gave me small moments of relief, like emotional medicine during a very dark time.

Now I wonder what happens if we combine both approaches.

What if we still prepare for the worst, so fear doesn’t control us, but we also allow ourselves to imagine the best? Not as an escape, but as direction. Not as denial, but as motivation.

Preparing from anxiety keeps us safe.

Preparing from hope helps us move.

Maybe the balance is this:

First, imagine the worst case so you know you can survive it.

Then, imagine the best case so you know what you are walking toward.

For my own sanity and growth, I think I will continue to acknowledge that “zero point,” the place I know I can survive if things fall apart. But once the preparation is done, I want to allow myself to imagine the best outcome, like a cherry on top, something to look forward to, something to strive toward in reality.

Not to escape life, but to build it.