|Posted by robertpawlicki68 on October 21, 2014 at 11:40 AM||comments (0)|
The science of positive psychology teaches us actions to promote happiness, but the patterns of the miserable can teach us as well — if we pay attention to how the terribly unhappy often perpetuate their own sad state. In my clinical life Virginia was one of the most miserable, powerful yet weak, people I have ever known. Many lessons can be learned from her.
A tall woman of about 35, Virginia could dominate a room in seconds, riveting everyone’s attention no matter their previous conversation. Her focus was her tongue pain.
To have a conversation with Virginia was to tap into a raging volcano. You might begin innocently enough with the question, “How are you?” A high-pitched verbal assault followed. “How do you expect me to be? I have tongue pain. Pain that is with me every second of every day, every second! Pain that has caused me to have my teeth removed, seven operations, spend every moment of my god-forsaken life with idiot doctors!” Every point would be stated loudly with anger-filled eyes, raised eyebrows and thrusting body. In a matter of seconds every other conversation would abruptly stop and attention be redirected to you and Virginia. This onslaught, mind you, to a total stranger. If you were unfortunate enough to be in the health profession, the barrage would not be so gentle. It would be filled with profanities, finger pointing, and threats.
When teaching in medical school, I often used my own imitation of Virginia as a teaching tool for medical students, residents and psychology interns — expanding their image of a difficult patient to a new level and challenging any perception of omnipotence they might harbor. Imitating Virginia, I would stand before them and field any question, always turning the topic to my pain. Even the most innocuous question such as “How do you think the local sports team is doing?” would elicit a lecture on what did those indulged players know of life. I, Virginia, had experienced the brutality of life — each point stated with indignity and fury. Questions attempting to divert me, in my role as Virginia, would be treated with special derision. “What do you do for fun?” would be met with contempt, followed by a harangue detailing the questioner’s lack of compassion, insensitivity and professional inadequacy.
Virginia was as weak as she was strong. Her life was limited, stymied and anger-filled. She had no joy, laughter, compassion, sensitivity, serenity, quiet, tranquility, empathy, or bliss. Relationships eluded her. Every connection in her life degenerated into hostility and alienation. And when a relationship fell apart, Virginia was consumed with blame and recriminations. Living in her body meant endless faulting of others, precluding all other life experiences. It’s as if Virginia never left her house of anger, never ventured into the range of experiences that the rest of us take for granted.
The anger, so evident to those encountering Virginia, covered a deep, pervasive depression. For Virginia, depression meant malaise, constant physical and psychological pain, lack of energy and dysfunctional sleep. It meant unending doctors with all the associated consumption of time and energy. Power came at an enormous price.
Changing Virginia was beyond the capability of any single individual. Her thoughts and determination were well honed and reinforced. Think for a moment what you might do in her presence — retreat? Sounds reasonable. It certainly is what all of Virginia’s relatives did, thereby providing her with additional ammunition for her martyred syndrome. Understandable as their actions might be, Virginia merely took their withdrawal from her life as another example of how she was victim of an uncaring world. But if you’re a health care worker responsible for the welfare of any patient that walks through your door, you cannot withdraw — especially not if you think you can help the patient. You have a moral obligation to try.
I could write pages on Virginia’s self-defeating behavior, but there is one central theme that fuels most of her self-destruction: her belief that everyone else was responsible for her misery. As a team we did rehabilitate Virginia, but that’s a story for another time. I can tell you that it began by not responding to her anger and then reinforcing any action that even faintly hinted of healthy behavior.
Even in the depths of the most challenging problems, ferreting out what you can control and acting on those behaviors is dynamically different than blame and victimhood — a lesson that can be used for problems much smaller than Virginia’s.
|Posted by robertpawlicki68 on September 27, 2014 at 1:05 PM||comments (0)|
You can’t tell someone’s feelings by just knowing his or her outward circumstances. Oh, there might be some relationship between happy surroundings and feeling good or very difficult surroundings and feeling sad — but the correlation is low. A prime example of this surfaced when a patient of mine was absolutely euphoric after his beloved father died.
I had been seeing Howard for about two months and making little progress. It was obvious that he was severely depressed and his medications were not making much difference. He expressed most of the classical signs of depression: poor sleep, loss of appetite, low energy, some cognitive impairment, irritability, lack of concentration, and feelings of hopelessness and helplessness. Particularly challenging for our interactions was his unwillingness to discuss what was bothering him. His one saving grace was his interest in continuing to meet every week, always arriving on time and seemingly pleased to be there.
So I was surprised when Howard unexpectedly missed two weeks running. Even more amazing was his demeanor when he showed up — alive and energetic. Still more shocking was Howard’s reply to my inquiry as to what had happened to him. “My father died,” was his reply.
Ordinarily such a reply would, of course, elicit an expression of sympathy for the grieving that one assumed was present. But Howard wasn’t grieving. He was happy, happier than he had been for years. It seems that his earlier depression stemmed in large part from an estrangement from his father, his only living relative. The conflict that caused the estrangement had occurred over a decade earlier for reasons that Howard didn’t fully understand, but that he felt were intractable and could be his fault. He claimed to have attempted to reconcile with his father on many occasions only to be sternly rebuffed, and ultimately he had lost all hope of ever seeing his father again.
Shortly after his previous visit to the clinic, Howard received a call from a local hospital that his father was there, dying, and wanted to see him. What he found when he arrived was a frail man filled with contrition and sorrow. With the two of them falling over one another in apologies and regrets, they then settled down to reminisce about good times together. This went on for over a week until Howard’s father succumbed to his illness. In the process, Howard lost the tremendous guilt that had racked his mind and left him feeling hopeless. He no longer shouldered the full responsibility for the issues that separated him and his father and even came to recognize that his assumptions concerning how his father perceived him were wrong. New memories replaced old distorted ones and left him with a positive feeling of closure.
Anyone seeing Howard after his father died would not see a depressed man — the stooping shoulders and lethargy were gone. But to fully appreciate the transition from depression to euphoria, it is important to recognize that we humans are not stimulus-response beings. “The mind is its own place and in itself, can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven,” said John Milton in one of my favorite quotes. It refers to the fact that our feelings are not directly a function of circumstance. How we process the situation determines our emotional experience and the subsequent feelings and behavior that follow. Between the input we receive and our feeling is our interpretation of events. It is there where we make our interpretations that determine how we function, and our happiness.
For those many years before his father’s death Howard chose to blame himself, based upon partial information as well as his own distortions. The guilt that engulfed him and subsequently caused a deep depression is not something Howard would say he intentionally chose, but he did, in the fashion that our mind and habits are ultimately responsible for the perceptions we experience.
It doesn’t feel like a choice because it seems so automatic but it is a choice. Shakespeare, too, had it right, “It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves.”
|Posted by robertpawlicki68 on August 15, 2014 at 5:20 PM||comments (0)|
You may recall the opening lines from the book, The Road Less Traveled, “Life is difficult.” The author, Scott Peck, goes on to say that once you accept this fact you’ve taken a major step in managing life’s challenges. But I’d like to suggest an additional consideration in combating life’s challenges — actively pursuing happiness. Those who regularly engage in practices that increase happiness are actually preparing themselves to manage life’s trials.
Our own individual list of struggles will vary, but all of us will experience a few of the following: serious illness, loss of loved ones, financial difficulties and tragedy to those around us. And no one escapes the end of life.
Since these difficulties inevitably confront us, is there anything we can do to prepare ourselves for these challenges? After much consideration I believe that the very same attitudes and practices that increase our happiness are actually preparations for the management of the darker side of life. Let me list some of the major recommendations often highlighted for increasing happiness and consider how these same attitudes and practices are valuable in confronting life’s difficulties:
1. “I have so much to be thankful for.” Practicing gratefulness: Anecdotally and empirically it has been shown that those who are consistently grateful are happier than those who do not. When life’s difficulties appear, the grateful habit expresses itself in the manner in which we focus our attention on the positives, as well as compare our difficulties with those worse off — a major tool in grappling with life’s challenges.
2. “I’m so fortunate to have so many good friends.” Expanding and deepening friendships: The relationship between the number of friends we have, particularly close friendships, and happiness is strong. The same bonds play a critical role in how well we heal when tragedy hits. Those who are more alone and keep all of their sorrows inside tend to suffer longer, while those who have friends who can listen, empathize and care are more able to move on.
3. “I’m not perfect but I am a loveable person.” Letting love in: We’re constantly told to love others but just as crucial is the ability to be compassionate with ourselves, forgive our shortcomings and appreciate our strengths — wonderful skills for maintaining a strong sense of well being. When clouds cover the horizon, those who maintain greater self-compassion are less prone to blame themselves. They are more likely to understand that things beyond their control are part of the vagaries of life. Such a perspective allows constructive problem solving.
4. “I’m ultimately responsible for my own happiness and I’ve gone through some pretty tough times.” Personal responsibility and perspective: People who believe that their well being is their own responsibility tend to be happy, while those who believe there is little they can do to control their fate are far less likely to be so. When life’s problems appear, individuals who consistently blame others become victims, and lose the very leverage they need to work through problems. Alternatively, those who view their problems in the larger perspective tend to do a better job of managing life’s inevitable difficulties.
5. “I do my best to be kind.” Practicing kindness: Those who consistently go out of their way to be kind immediately gain by their action and are likely to receive reciprocal acts of caring. Such behavior deepens the very network of friendship that most of us crave which, in turn, supports us during times of stress. Kindness also strengthens our self-image and confidence, valuable assets when problems appear.
6. “I can only manage what’s under my control, nothing more.” Controlling what you can control: Indeed separating what you can control from what you cannot is a fundamental aspect of good mental health and happiness. Likewise such a personal practice again sets the stage for effective management of life’s greatest puzzles. Those who become bogged down with things beyond their control are limited in their capability to experience happiness and restricted in their ability to manage suffering.
The list goes on: listening well, forgiving, volunteering, focusing on healthy internal dialog and exercising, are good practices to enhance happiness. All contribute to minimizing the emotional pain that accompanies life’s challenges. I have often suggested that happiness takes work and, of course, it does. Ingredients that build a lifetime of general well being take time, energy and attention. Practice of those same attitudes and behaviors help protect and heal us during the troubling side of life as well.
|Posted by robertpawlicki68 on July 20, 2014 at 4:10 PM||comments (0)|
"You never pay attention to me. You're just like your father — a cold fish." "Oh yeah, if you weren't such a blabbermouth, maybe I'd be able to get a word in edgewise."
This might be the opening salvo in a marital therapy session. Each side, often filled with venom, responding to each verbal assault with a counter of their own — like a grudge match, each hit filled with emotional baggage designed to do the utmost damage.
If left to its own momentum, this emotional intensity may continue unabated until one or the other explodes in disgust, turning to the therapist for support or relief. At home the same escalation often advances to a slammed door, sullen withdrawal or, in the worse case, physical violence.
The comparison between couples who "argue well" and those that don't is highly predictive of the quality of a marriage. Those relationships that engage in destructive exchanges have a low likelihood of success since many of their actions, such as name-calling, and certainly physical abuse, leave long-term scars. Resentment piled up like dried kindling makes future arguments burn hotter and retards healing. Mental recycling builds layers of blame and ironclad certainty makes reconciliation that much more difficult. The resulting hurt fuels distrust and fear, limiting closeness. Given such conditions it seems surprising that peace can ever be restored.
The techniques used by marital therapists to facilitate healing can be helpful in understanding how to build good relationships and avoid the problems in the first place. The goal, of course, is to learn to “play well in the sandbox” — a metaphor for getting along and even arguing well — something we try to teach our children at early age. We all have differences with those that we care for and it's smart to keep differences from degenerating into heated and destructive arguments.
One of the most effective styles that expert marital therapist John Gottman details is the use humor to interrupt an escalating argument. Such an approach requires both parties to deescalate once an agreed upon signal is expressed. Gottman cites one couple that abbreviates an argument when one or the other puts their tongue between their lips and blows hard making a silly noise. The meta message here is that "Our argument is getting too heated. Let's cool it and get back to it when we're not so agitated." It may sound absurd, and that particular gesture may not be the right one for you, but such a habit has saved many a marriage.
Marital therapists often require each party to patiently listen to the other's perception so closely that they can summarize it to the first person's satisfaction. Often in heated exchanges each party is likely to be gearing up their response, not putting their energy into listening, but preparing to counter instead. Requiring listening, to the point that satisfies the other person, accomplishes two goals; it tells the other that their point of view is actually being heard and secondly it increases the likelihood that the viewpoint is understood not just at the surface, but reaching underlying feelings and motives as well.
A third technique used to keep each party on track, is to disallow past history detours from sabotaging the problem solving efforts. "Oh yeah, you're a slob" doesn't help to resolve a financial dispute. Thus most therapists will regularly set a rule that participants must stick to the primary topic and the therapist will interrupt to maintain on-track exchanges.
Of course this is just a sampling of techniques used by marriage therapists and they are not magic. They sometimes take many, many, many hours of effort. Nevertheless the approaches can teach us something.
First, when arguments have continued and escalated to a damaging level, they are very difficult to resolve. The scars and hurt can be tremendously difficult to overcome in the future. Therefore, make every effort to interrupt an escalating argument before it gets out of hand.
Secondly, listen carefully not just to the other person's argument but see if you can restate it to be sure you understand their feelings and motives.
Third, do your best to stay on topic. If a disagreement can be transformed into problem solving, you're on the right track.
Difference of opinions and arguments are a part of life. Those who know how to get along in spite of those differences are likely to smile a lot more often than those who don't.
|Posted by robertpawlicki68 on June 19, 2014 at 9:20 AM||comments (0)|
Cleaning up the trash on a beach or roadside, joining a committee or board of a non profit organization, acting as a child advocate, serving food at a homeless shelter, listening to families at Hospice, being a greeter at a church — the list goes on and on. The areas in which my friends volunteer could fill a page, some tasks requiring skill and talent, others simply time and a good heart.
When you search the literature for behaviors that strongly promote happiness, volunteering jumps out. About a quarter of Americans do just that — volunteer on a regular basis. No wonder. The common refrain “I get so much more than I give” is authentically felt. In just one confirmation, neuroscientist David Linden detailed how the brain’s pleasure center is activated by generous behaviors towards others. But that’s just the beginning. Volunteering benefits physical health and is associated with reduced mortality risk, especially for people age 60 and over. Then there’s the sense of purpose, improved social support, reinforcement of a positive self-image and a greater degree of overall happiness. It’s no wonder that so many people volunteer.
At the heart of volunteering is reaching out to others, but it can do much more. There is a story of a grieving woman who goes to a wise man for advice. It seems that her husband died tragically the previous year and she continued to be deep in mourning. The wise man tells her that he has no magic potions or pills for her grief but that her recovery can come about if she finds someone who is very happy and without any sorrow of their own. He counsels her that she must listen very carefully to what they say if she is to move past her grief.
The woman began her quest in her rural village by going to the top of a nearby hill where the wealthy people lived. However, as soon as she inquired about the happiest person in the household, she was immediately told of the problems and sorrow present. She listened carefully but found nothing that soothed her grief and she continued on to the next house. In each home she found the same. Every home was a mixture of happiness and sorrow or mostly problems. After many homes, however, she noticed that her own sadness began to lessen.
Variations of this story exist in many cultures. Grieving and sorrow are appropriate. They tend to overstay their welcome, however, if kept totally inside. The woman in the story gave to others by listening and they, unknowingly, helped to distract her from her own troubles. Moreover, she began to gain meaning in her life as well as increase her contact with other people. Most everyone feels happier when they are with other people and even more so when they feel a sense of connection.
The story also illustrates two other features embedded in volunteer activity —kindness and perspective — features that contribute mightily to a strong sense of well being. Acts of kindness bolster happiness by activating the brain’s pleasure center mentioned above. It also generates a feeling of accomplishment. There’s the added attraction of fostering reciprocal acts of kindness and certainly gratitude from others — valuable happiness assets.
If that were not enough, most volunteering is provided to others less fortunate and thus likely to stimulate a sense of perspective, awareness that we have much to be grateful for.
There is one other observation I have about my friends who volunteer as a part of their life — they tend to be very happy people.
|Posted by robertpawlicki68 on April 19, 2014 at 2:30 PM||comments (0)|
The world of positive psychology has unleashed an avalanche of surveys and studies examining the happiest people in the world. To me, the results are intriguing but sometimes contradictory. For example, authoritarian countries tend to have very low levels of happiness, but one of the happiest turns out to be the very authoritarian Singapore, a stunning exception.
There are other surprising findings as well; the senior population is, on the whole, surprisingly happy. Disabled people are happier than most people would suspect and while more money makes the very poor happier there is an upper limit where additional income appears to have little additional happiness benefit.
I find these surveys and studies gripping because I am immersed in the study of well being but wonder if most people couldn’t learn a great deal just by systematically examining the people they know. When I look around at my friends and relatives, there definitely are those who seem to generally be very, very happy. And likewise, there are others who are miserable. Interestingly, the unhappy ones are more rare. In our society, Gallop and other pollsters report that roughly 80% of the population professes to be happy most of the time and within that group a smaller percentage, roughly 33%, very happy. That leaves only 20% who are unhappy or very unhappy.
So as you look around, you might have a more difficult time coming up with the unhappy ones. But I believe the effort is worthwhile. Here’s what I’m suggesting: Think of the two happiest people that you know, people that you know well enough to describe their habits, life-style and attitudes. Now think of two others what are quite unhappy. As I say, you may have a harder time listing unhappy people, but I bet at least one will quickly come to mind and with a little more mental searching you may be able to come up with a second. Then detail as much as you can about each of your four people. Write out your observations with particular attention to thinking styles and habits. The exercise, by the way, is likely to be especially enlightening if done in partnership with a spouse or a very close friend.
I did find differences between my two groups: My unhappy people tend to be more moody and much more distrustful of others and institutions. The other thing that jumped out of my very unscientific and extremely limited sample was the frequent blaming of others by my two unhappy acquaintances.
My happy people, on the other hand, are more upbeat, optimistic, more likely to find the silver lining in every cloud and certainly appreciative of their good fortune.
But do your own little study. See if you can find distinguishing habits and attitudes that separate those who are happy and unhappy. We tend to associate with people who share our general economic, racial and even political background so the differences we are likely to observe are those of personality and attitude. That turns out to be fortunate. For it is personality and attitude that are most under our control and therefore the difference where we can gain the most. I wonder what differences you can find and would love to have you share your findings with me.
To some extant my observations confirm my suspicions as to what is important. They also made me think about what lessons I can learn and what I need to do in order to maximize my own happiness. It took me about forty minutes to write it out. It made me think. It was worth the effort.
|Posted by robertpawlicki68 on March 15, 2014 at 1:35 PM||comments (0)|
I complimented a friend yesterday on how well she is handling a life threatening illness. Her reply is well worth remembering.
She downplayed her own admirable management of a serious health issue for the last two years and quickly identified a mutual friend who was dealing with something even more severe. In doing so, she reminded me that those who cope well express empathy for others who are in an even more challenging place.
Those who wallow in “Why did this happen to me?” or a “This is so unfair” mentality have a steep mountain to climb. My friend stays away from that trap. Instead, she compares her problems with someone less well off. In doing so she puts her problem in perspective and implicitly expresses gratitude that her situation isn’t any worse than it is.
She also turned the table and complimented me on my handling of a lifetime issue. I realized that, while I questioned my own ability to manage her serious problem, she, in turn, wondered if she could manage mine. How typical of her and, I think, of many of us. When we think of facing serious challenges such as dealing with the loss of a loved one, a life-threatening illness, or a sudden disability, we are terrified. In the abstract we often believe that we are totally incapable of surviving such tragedies. And yet in reality, overwhelmingly, we do.
If you were a clinical psychologist 30 years ago, your focus on a new patient would undoubtedly be exclusively on their problems. Your training would have taught you to look for patterns, family history and factors that influenced their concerns. What would be absent, or at least underemphasized, in your analysis would be the patient’s strengths. That omission is significant. Modern clinicians don’t overlook the strengths that each of us brings to a crisis.
Many of us make the mistake of forgetting that we have a repertoire of mental health coping skills that need to be unearthed when a crisis arises. The problem stems from the fact that we bury certain fears, like the potential loss of a loved one, so deeply that we forget our strengths as well. There is much to be said for living in the present. But not if, in stifling our fears, we fail to remember that we have managed pain before and are capable of handling it again.
If you were to survey 20 people regarding the tragedies suffered during their lives, you would amass an astonishing list: abandonment, physical and psychological abuse, divorce, family alcoholism, and deaths of close relatives and friends. The list would go on and on. Most of these situations leave scars of varying degrees. Yet people survive and learn. The resilience of humans is remarkable. Our survival skills emerge and are mostly enhanced by living through life’s trials.
My recommendation is not to obsess over potential disasters. But do recognize that you bring strengths to problems that you will confront. You have already faced extraordinary difficulties and have survived. Some may have taken time to overcome, but you have. Recognize what you’ve already been through and have confidence that you can manage future challenges. It may not be easy, but with those skills in hand you’ll manage again when the time comes.
|Posted by robertpawlicki68 on February 18, 2014 at 10:55 AM||comments (0)|
I’ve often counseled that, when worries become intense, one of the best problem solving techniques is to write out your concerns as specifically as possible. Next, spell out concrete actions that are under your control and those that aren’t, such as other people’s moods. It’s advice that I follow. While it’s often hard to get myself to write, it’s marvelously effective once done. For it typically moves me into action and that, in and of itself, is a significant stress reliever.
But life is more than dealing with major problems. There are the little errors, failures, insults and aggravations of life. How does one prevent these annoyances from building up into a funk?
To me a critical approach is to deal with the small issues immediately, before they become bothersome. Preventing the hurt or feelings of failure when they are little goes a long way toward maintaining a good mood. In the long run, it almost like preventing crime by making sure that the streets are well lit and clean—actions that seem to deter more destructive results later on.
I find that the internal language people use plays a significant role in deciding whether the errors, failures, insults and aggravations grow or are pretty much stopped in their tracks. A few days ago a friend shared one of his little gems that I immediately promised to place in my mental first aid kit. After I made an embarrassing error he reassured me with, “Don’t worry, it’s not going on your permanent record.” I stood there surprised and smiling. Of course I could berate myself and ruminate over my error, but no, “It’s not going on my permanent record.” Wow! I can move on. It’s no big thing in the large picture. Such were the sequential thoughts following his remark. I immediately felt better. I kept from getting frustrated with myself.
Mentally healthy people have what psychologist call self-compassion. Put another way, they are kind to themselves. The result of such self-compassion is that they, in turn, are kinder, more generous and tolerant of others—behaviors that provide enormous reciprocal rewards.
Self-compassion is a nice concept, warm and fuzzy. But how is it achieved? Certainly it is fortified with gratitude and quiet pride over personal strengths and accomplishments. But I suspect that it is largely maintained by keeping little human failings from expanding into significant self-doubt. Thus we return to the internal dialog immediately following a personal error, dialog that keep the insults of life from growing into larger worries.
Self-compassion means forgiving yourself for making errors and putting errors into the big picture perspective. The forgiveness is facilitated by your self-statements: “It’s not going on your personal record” is one but so is “Don’t sweat the small stuff” and “It’s not the end of the world” all ways of managing life’s irritations. I suspect if we were to analyze happy people we would find they have a catalog of constructive remarks that keep self-doubt at bay.
In protecting yourself from being overwhelmed by the slings and arrows of life I’m reminded of one of my favorite stories concerning Larry Doby, the first African-American to integrate the American League. Not as famous as Jackie Robinson in the National League, Larry Doby likewise endured tremendous racial abuse. He was asked after he retired whether he ever wished his skin were a different color. Without hesitation he replied, “I thank God that my skin is black. I just wished it were a little thicker.”
Thick skin protecting us from life’s tribulations is something we can all work on. It comes about from constructive thoughts immediately following a problem. I hope you have a lot of them at the ready. I was so pleased to recently add one more—“Don’t Worry. It’s not going on your permanent record.” Indeed I recommend that you make a list of your own and keep it handy.
|Posted by robertpawlicki68 on February 18, 2014 at 10:50 AM||comments (0)|
My professional career has been schizophrenic in the sense that the first half was spent treating those with pain and suffering, and the second half has focused on happiness. While not immediately apparent, these two fields are surprisingly intertwined.
Perhaps the most striking similarity between pain and happiness is that they are both perceptions. They each may begin as an external incident, a hurtful action for pain, a loving compliment for happiness, but the brain must process each external event. And this is where what is happening in the brain in the form of attitude, expectation, beliefs, etc., plays a significant role in our actual experience, be it pain or happiness. Thus, one man’s pain is another man’s pleasure and vise versa. Our interpretation of what is happening externally is at the crux of whether we are generally happy or miserable.
Now, some may rush to say that physical and psychological pain are strikingly different. In actuality the differences are far less than most realize. To point, studies show that an intense psychological hurt, such as the loss of a loved one, lights up the same areas of the brain as does intense physical pain. If anything, my observations are that psychological distress is more troublesome than physical pain. Many a child would rather endure a quick spanking than the disapproval of a loving parent.
All this is to say that it is necessary, in my opinion, when considering happiness to not only study habits of kindness, gratitude, exercise, etc. –- the positive practices of well being –- but also to study how we handle pain, especially psychological pain.
Let me give one example of many cases I could cite. Most everyone is acquainted with the world famous theoretical physicist, Stephen Hawking. Hawking was diagnosed in his early 20’s with a motor neuron disease that left him trapped in a shell of a body. Now 63, he is unable to move any part of his body, is confined to a wheelchair and speaks through a mechanical voice instrument. An interviewer asked what kept his spirits up. He replied, “My expectations were reduced to zero when I was 21. Everything since then has been a bonus.”
It is that interpretation, a philosophical adjustment that is at the heart of what we all, perhaps to a much lesser degree, must make to the painful experiences of life. Hawking made an extraordinarily positive adjustment. How we respond to the challenges of life determines our life’s emotional trajectory.
Consider -- if you were presented with the choice between a life with chronic pain but continued speech and mobility versus the neurological shell of a body experienced by Stephen Hawking, what alternative would you take? As difficult as the former might be, the latter incarceration into the body of a Stephen Hawking and the accompanying psychological adjustment might tip you away from that alternative. And so it is likely that you would choose the alternative of chronic pain versus, in my mind, the more emotionally challenging experience of a completely paralyzed body. The fact that some of you would choose otherwise is again evidence that our pain and happiness are not absolutes but shaped by our individual attitudes and values.
My purpose is not to create uncomfortable scenarios but rather to emphasize that we all face challenges in life. If we choose to believe that we are helpless victims, we are likely to be unhappy. On the other hand, if we control what we can manage in the face of our various losses and hurts, we are more likely to maximize our well being.
You may wish to live a life without pain. But, even if such a wish could be granted, consider that your happiness is more pronounced when contrasted with sadness. Sunshine is better after rain. Health is valued more after illness. And love is, indeed, more intense after its absence. But, of course, we want mostly sunshine, mostly health and our love ones to be with us most, but definitely not all, of the time.
So it is true that we prefer mostly happiness. But that happiness is also dependent upon how we handle the inevitable experiences of pain. To live life to its fullest we must not only practice happiness habits but manage the degree to which pain, psychological and physical, controls us.
|Posted by robertpawlicki68 on December 16, 2013 at 2:10 PM||comments (0)|
I’m a relatively orderly person whose office sometimes disintegrates into disarray and low levels of dirt. But, after a recent thorough office straightening, I marveled at the degree of pleasure I felt and wondered, with all of the major issues in life bubbling around me, how I could feel such enjoyment over something as simple as cleaning my office. Why is that so? And since it feels so good, why don’t I do it more often?
The reality is that some tasks are low priorities. “A few things out of place won’t hurt.” “Nobody’s going to see it.” “I’ve got other things to do that are more important.” It’s this type of thinking that allows us to procrastinate about a whole series of activities: getting a medical exam, cleaning the car or writing an overdue note. Of course some people like to do these activities, but a large number of us tend to put them off for another day.
On the other hand, some low priority activities jump to the top when an even more onerous task shows up. My office can get a good straightening when my taxes need doing. Others can carry this avoidance to an extreme.
An acquaintance of mine was a prime example. This woman would carefully peruse the want ads each morning (another era) for a much-needed job. But instead of immediately following up on prospective employment, she would circle her preferences in red pen. The following day she would type them out on 3X5 cards and prioritize them. She contacted the employer on the third day, only to find that she was at the end of a line of applicants. When she finally landed a job, she would further exhibit her ambiguity regarding work by frequently being late and getting fired, only to start the circular process once again.
Most of us are not so neurotic, but we avoid doing certain tasks, building up tension the longer the work goes undone. That’s one of the reasons we enjoy completing the task at long last—reducing the tension by knowing that the task is done and believing that it won’t have to be done again for awhile.
Of course, there are other rewards as well. Completing tasks such as straightening the office means that things are back where they belong and I’m ready to work — a clean desk, pens in their cup and books in their place. Why is that important? I suspect it has to do with a feeling of certainty—comfort that I know where things are and can get to them efficiently.
All of this is to say I enjoy having a straightened and clean office. You may feel the same about a kitchen, bedroom, car, lawn or attic. But to get to your desired state can seem Sisyphean—in a lifetime the tasks need to be done time and time again. But I assume Sisyphus also had a choice as he pushed his rock endlessly up the hill. He could, at least, feel a temporary sense of gratification as he reached the top. Why let the pleasure fade? Unlike Sisyphus you don’t have to immediately redo the task. Savor its completion. Sit and admire it. Relish it. Benjamin Franklin noted that happiness comes not from the occasional great joy but the little pleasures of everyday life. It’s the little accomplishments that make up a great deal of the good life.
Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be. –