The mental exercises presented in the Practice section have different applications; some are designed for routine, regular practice (e.g., The First Order of Business, Meditation, Doing the Best I Can Do). Others are situation-specific (e.g., Choice Making, Anxiety Management, Cultivating Forgiveness). The rest (e.g., Cultivating Calm, Cultivating Inner Discipline, Cultivating Patience and Tolerance) can fit either category.
This chapter presents two drills I consider sort of in between. I think they are worth doing regularly, but they don’t carry the same weight as the other routine practices.
The first is “short and sweet.” (It’s plagiarized from Kurt Vonnegut, but I’m confident he would not object.) The second is more involved and is divided into subtypes. I suggest practicing it regularly, choosing the subtype that best fits the present circumstances.
Exercise #1
Kurt Vonnegut recalled spending summers on his uncle’s farm. Specifically, he recalled taking a break in the farmwork during which he and his uncle would sip cold lemonade, and his uncle would look around and say, ”If this isn’t nice, what is?” (Vonnegut, 2005)
I think this is an excellent practice to adopt. I like to run it at least once a day. It’s easy – simply look for the opportunity to honestly ask yourself the same question: “If this isn’t nice, what is?” It’s not “if this isn’t fantastic” or “if this isn’t exactly what I want.” It’s just ‘nice.’ You may be drinking your morning coffee, or driving to work, or back from work, or going to sleep. Whatever. I think that most of us, most of our days experience moments that readily qualify, but they are easy to overlook — maybe because they are so common, maybe because they are not “outstanding.”
Regardless of the reason, I think failing to notice these moments is wasteful. Conversely, noticing moments that make the ‘nice’ grade (even if it’s a small minority of the opportunities that you may have, e.g., even once in an opportunity-rich day) can make a difference.
You can take it a step further if you are inclined, and try to identify what it is about the moment that makes it qualify as ‘nice.’ Sometimes the answer is clear — it may be nice to watch something on TV with someone you love and loves you back. It may be nice to hear a child laughing. It may be nice to complete a task. Other times, what makes a moment ‘nice’ can be elusive — it may be as simple as a moment with no time pressure, or not feeling pain anywhere (i.e., the absence of a negative can be more elusive than the presence of a positive). If you give it enough thought, you are likely to nail it, and if not, you’re no worse off.
Details aside, I think it is a good general practice because it’s easy and pleasant. Moreover, the potential upside of making it a routine practice (which includes using this exercise as a trigger for other practices, e.g., cultivating gratitude, perspective, and acceptance) far outweighs its potential downside — the kind of deal we like.
Exercise #2
This practice begins with an assessment of how your pursuit of happiness is going. I think the simplest way to approach it is as a multiple-choice question with three possible answers: excellent, okay, and poorly. Putting a label on it can transform a vague notion about what is going on in a given moment into a clear insight. It can change the ambiguous “I’m in a funk” to a more concrete “my pursuit of happiness is going poorly” and “I can’t say why, but I’m having a good day” to “my pursuit of happiness is going great.”
If your pursuit of happiness is going well, it’s worth registering consciously — registering these moments consistently adds up. Furthermore, you may choose to take another step, beyond acknowledging that your pursuit of happiness is going well, and try to identify why it’s going well. You may learn something you can use moving forward. For example, you may find that your pursuit of happiness is going well because you have learned something worth knowing — it may energize your interest in learning; or, you may find that the active ingredient is something you created and are proud of — it may energize your interest in creativity; perhaps what is at work is a loving connection — the same energy principle applies. Whatever is contributing to the efficacy of your pursuit of happiness is worth your attention. (For a detailed discussion of this material, see the Meaning chapter.)
Of course, at times, the assessment will reveal that your pursuit of happiness is going poorly. These times can be reframed as practice opportunities. This reframing, in and of itself, is a significant step that is, unquestionably, worth practicing. It can be hard at first, but it becomes easier with repetition.
When your pursuit of happiness seems off track, understanding what derails it can be very rewarding. In other words, it’s worthwhile to ask, “What is impeding my pursuit of happiness?” The question can be approached systematically in several ways.
- Follow the link between attachments and suffering. When your pursuit of happiness is not going well, it is likely that you are attached to something. Recall the story about the demise of the monkey that refused to let go of the candy bar. Ask yourself, “What is my candy bar?” “What am I grasping onto that may be contributing to my suffering and getting in the way of my pursuit of happiness?”
The candy bar may be nothing more than receiving a fair treatment, deserved reward, or even relief from some pain. In such cases, it may be tempting to argue that the attachment is normal and thus justifiable. But remember — the fact that “most people would respond exactly the same way” doesn’t mean it’s an effective response.
Sometimes, identifying the candy bar makes it easy to let go of. Bringing the candy bar into focus can reveal that it has no value. Either way, it’s in your interest to know what your candy bar is. Even if this knowledge doesn’t help you let go of it, it’s better to know than to remain in the dark (which is to say enlightenment is preferable to ignorance). - Follow the happiness-defining triad — inner peace, passion, and compassion. Here’s how I apply it, one element at a time:
Inner peace is inversely related to anxiety, which (as discussed in the Anxiety chapter) results from the wish to control something. Therefore, it is useful to identify how this is relevant to you. It can be done simply by asking yourself what you wish you could control. It may be your child’s well-being, your financial standing, or the state of some international affairs. What it is specifically is less relevant than the fact that your mind is invested in control. The wish to control is synonymous with a loss of inner peace, which will reliably undermine your pursuit of happiness.If you manage to replace your wish to control something with a willingness to influence it (as discussed in the Anxiety management chapter), you are most likely to notice an improvement in your pursuit of happiness.To clarify the role of passion in the derailment of your pursuit of happiness, start by recalling some of the things you know you care about — your loved ones, your career, or protecting endangered species. Reflect on the way your mind presently relates to any of the things that, historically, you know you care about. If loss of passion is the problem, you will find that, at that moment, your caring about a thing (or things) you normally care about is low or even absent.You may be able to rekindle (at least some of) your normal caring by bringing into focus the things you normally have a passion for and reexamining how much you really care about them. In other words, by simply — but deliberately — reflecting on how much you really care about how your loved ones are doing, how your career is going, or the threats to endangered species, you may discover that your passion is intact, but that it was temporarily pushed aside because of something going on in that moment. Even if the introspection doesn’t lead to rekindling your passion, it’s still better to know what is getting in the way than to be in the dark.Similarly, exploring your level of compassion can be both revealing and effective. Recall that the centerpiece of compassion is acceptance. Reflect on the “cast members” of your life’s production. Is there anyone your mind finds unacceptable? In other words, is there a person in your life that, at the moment, must change in some way in order to gain your acceptance? It may be someone close to you, or someone far removed. Of course, it may also be yourself. If you discover a cast member that your mind treats as unacceptable, your mind is withholding compassion, typically without realizing the impact it has on your pursuit of happiness.In addition, recall that to sustain compassion, acceptance (of the present) must be supported by forgiveness (of the past) and hope (for the future). Bring this realization to your analysis: Do you consider anyone unforgivable? Or hopeless? Either one is a warning flag of a compassion drain. Experienced mindfulness practitioners can apply specific practices to cultivate forgiveness and hope, thereby recovering their compassion; beginners may find this more challenging. However, regardless of one’s level of mastery, it’s better to know what is getting in the way of one’s pursuit of happiness than to be in the dark.
- Follow the pain signal. The efficacy of the pursuit of happiness is affected by one’s physical and mental balance. Pain signals the loss of balance; physical pain points to a loss of physical balance, and mental pain points to a loss of mental balance. Hence, showing up to the encounter with pain mindfully — that is, with interest and curiosity instead of judgment — can reveal useful insights relevant to one’s pursuit of happiness.
This is not easy. The normal, default reaction to pain is the wish to avoid it, to make it stop, not to study it. But, as any ER clinician knows, stopping a pain before its message is deciphered can be a missed opportunity.
In the context of the current discussion, when one’s pursuit of happiness is going poorly, it is reasonable to literally ask oneself, “Where do I hurt?” “What is the pain I’m experiencing?” Asking the question may seem redundant, but for several reasons, it is not. For example, a pain can impede the pursuit of happiness even if it is not intense (or acute) enough to clearly register in consciousness; a pain may be obscured by a second, more intense, pain experienced at the same time; suffering and misery — the downstream consequences of pain — can be intense enough to overshadow, or grab attention away from the pain that caused them.
I suggest approaching the question systematically, beginning with a body scan to identify physical pains. Simply go over your body, from top to bottom — do you have a slight headache? Neck tension? Shoulder, arm, chest, or back pain? Indigestion? Pelvic discomfort? Any pain in the lower extremities?
Where you notice a pain, even if it’s mild enough to escape automatic awareness, explore the associated suffering, the meaning your mind attributes to it. On examination, is it reasonable? Is it inflated? If so, can you make the corrections needed to align the suffering with the pain? Next, look for associated misery. Remember that misery is a choice; it’s a choice we often make without realizing we are doing it. Hence, this exploration (coupled with relevant know-how) can be very practically useful. (For a detailed discussion of this material, see the Pain, Suffering, and Misery chapter.)
Next, do a mental pain scan. To do this systematically, recall the three levels of mental pain: self-centered pain (i.e., self-doubt, self-disappointment, and the fear of losing self-control), other-centered pain (i.e., unfairness/guilt, disappointment/shame, abandonment/loss of autonomy), and process-centered pain (i.e., disappointment in the process, pessimism, and loss of aim and purpose in the process).
When a mental pain is identified, its associated suffering and misery should be explored — mental pain triggers suffering and (potentially) misery just like physical pain.
The information gathered from this systematic analysis of pain can be remarkably useful. Advanced mindfulness practitioners may be able to dispel misery, reduce suffering, and contain their pain. (The Emotions Management Cheat Sheet can be useful for this purpose.) Regardless of one’s mindfulness skill level, the same pattern holds — it’s better to know what’s going on than to be in the dark.
References
Vonnegut, K. (2005). A man without a country. Seven Stories Press.