Paranoia doesn’t always look extreme. Often, it shows up in small, ordinary moments. Sometimes it looks like this: you send a text, the other person doesn’t reply, and your brain writes a novel. “They’re mad.” “I offended them.” “They’re telling everyone.” No evidence. Just a narrator.

Paranoia can also be a habit. It’s the “they’re out to get me” lens. Coincidences stop being coincidences. Voices on TV feel directed. Messages seem hidden in plain sight – manipulation that only you can see. Every unexpected event feels planned.

The thing is, when you expect trouble, you start collecting it. You notice every frown and miss every smile. You rehearse worst-case scenarios until your body reacts as if it’s happening. You may make yourself smaller, not because the world requires it, but because fear has grown louder than hope.

What if we tried the opposite?

There’s a word for it: Pronoia. In 1982, sociologist Fred H. Goldner described pronoia as the optimistic opposite of paranoia. One explanation of pronoia that I liked is that it’s “a deep-seated belief that the universe is conspiring for your well-being, actively working to bless you, enlighten you, and free you from hardship, even if those gifts arrive in unexpected ways.”

At first glance, you might think, “Isn’t that just delusion?” Fair point. If pronoia means denying reality, ignoring red flags, or assuming every stranger is your fan club, it isn’t wise and can drift into fantasy.

But here’s a more useful, grounded version: pronoia as a practice. Not “everything is perfect,” but “something here can help me.” Not blind optimism, but curious optimism. It’s the habit of hunting for the hidden gift – even if the gift is small, like a lesson, a nudge or a new option you couldn’t see yesterday.

And science gives us permission to do this. The brain is naturally biased toward bad news – it remembers insults longer than compliments and dangers longer than wins. Pronoia isn’t pretending everything is good. It’s deliberately giving attention to what’s working, helping and opening doors.

“We suffer more often in imagination than in reality,” wrote Seneca, a Roman philosopher.

You miss a green light. Paranoia says: “I’m going to be late! My boss will fire me! I’m going to lose everything! The universe hates me!” Pronoia says, “Maybe I just avoided a serious car accident.”

You get unexpected feedback at work. Paranoia says: “They’re building a case.” Pronoia says: “They’re handing me a lever. If I improve this one thing, my future gets easier.”

You planned a Saturday project, and it rains. Paranoia says, “There goes my weekend.” Pronoia says: “Fine. I’ll do the inside job I’ve avoided, put on music, and call it an upgrade!”

Pronoia also changes your relationships. If you assume others are judging you, you walk in guarded. If you assume someone is quietly rooting for you, you walk in warmer. And warmth is a magnet. Smiles get returned. Conversations open. Doors crack. Opportunities begin to show themselves.

Pronoia is the belief that even the detours and the delays are keeping you on track.

Is every setback “meant to be”? I don’t know. But I do know this: the meaning you choose often becomes the momentum you get.

Pronoia doesn’t mean you stop being cautious or stop using common sense. It simply means you refuse to let fear be your default setting. You still lock your doors. You still read the room. You just stop assuming that every unknown is a threat before it proves itself to be one.

Try it out next time you encounter a delay, a mistake or a surprise change. Say something like: “This might be helping me by…” and fill in the blank with an honest possibility.

Delay? “This might be helping me by forcing a pause.”

Mistake? “This might be helping me by showing what to fix.”

Change? “This might be helping me by opening a new route.”

That’s it. No chanting. No crystals. Just a new lens.

Because maybe the world isn’t plotting against you. Maybe it’s quietly coaching you – and it’s been doing it all along.

• Toby Moore is a Shaw Local News Network columnist, star of the Emmy-nominated film “A Separate Peace,” and CEO of CubeStream Inc. He can be reached at feedback@shawmedia.com.