Tuesday, March 1, 2011
A Happy MBA class
Looks like there's an interesting class on happiness at Stanford's GSB. I'd take it if I were there... http://www.fastcompany.com/magazine/153/the-business-of-happiness.html
Monday, February 28, 2011
Oxygen mask
This weekend, I gave a simple talk about happiness and its connection to evolution. I focused a lot on our need to work on developing happiness as a sort of "skill" we can improve with effort (rather than simply chasing after what we assume will make us happy). At the end, I talked about how important it was to develop our own happiness, because happiness is "contagious". I gave an example of how I helped my mom stay happy by being happy myself.
When I sat down after the speech, a girl in the row in front of me told me that it reminded her of the instructions they give you for operating the oxygen masks on the airplane: "Please make sure your mask is securely fastened before assisting others".
Of course, she was referring to the idea that we need to be happy ourselves before we can think about trying to help others. I've actually thought the same thing when looking at those flight safety instructions. How can we realistically expect to help others be happy, if we don't fully understand the subtle workings of happiness ourselves?
The pursuit of happiness isn't selfish, so long as you have the right motivations (a focus on the happiness of others). That's actually the reason I still focus on developing my happiness further; I'm already happy enough for my own purposes, but if I truly want to help others find happiness, I need to understand how it works, how to get it, and where it comes from.
When I sat down after the speech, a girl in the row in front of me told me that it reminded her of the instructions they give you for operating the oxygen masks on the airplane: "Please make sure your mask is securely fastened before assisting others".
Of course, she was referring to the idea that we need to be happy ourselves before we can think about trying to help others. I've actually thought the same thing when looking at those flight safety instructions. How can we realistically expect to help others be happy, if we don't fully understand the subtle workings of happiness ourselves?
The pursuit of happiness isn't selfish, so long as you have the right motivations (a focus on the happiness of others). That's actually the reason I still focus on developing my happiness further; I'm already happy enough for my own purposes, but if I truly want to help others find happiness, I need to understand how it works, how to get it, and where it comes from.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
TEDxBU
I got the chance to speak on this topic (specifically, how evolution makes it hard to find happiness) at the TEDx conference at BU yesterday. I'll post a video as soon as I get it. It was a great event, with a lot of students speaking. I was really impressed with the quality of the other presenters (especially since I thought "if they let me speak, the others can't be that great..." But I was wrong!).
I think I missed the wave of traffic from the event, but if you were at the conference, please leave a comment on this post with your thoughts. Thanks!
I think I missed the wave of traffic from the event, but if you were at the conference, please leave a comment on this post with your thoughts. Thanks!
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Deep thoughts (by Jack Handy)
I was emailing back and forth with a friend, discussing some "deep" topics. We had a discussion about the point in my life where I realized that I'd always be reasonably happy (no matter what my situation -- rich/poor, alone/with friends, in the US/somewhere else, etc.). After that realization, I knew that there was nothing left to do except try to help others as best I could.
My friend asked why the two were connected. I thought about it, which helped me come up with a much clearer answer:
"i think it was basically seeing that i would be at about the same happiness level no matter my circumstances, so there was no need to do anything further for myself. i was "done" in a way -- finished with trying to improve my own situation. But with all this energy and life left in me, what else is there to do but help others realize the same thing for themselves?"
My friend asked why the two were connected. I thought about it, which helped me come up with a much clearer answer:
"i think it was basically seeing that i would be at about the same happiness level no matter my circumstances, so there was no need to do anything further for myself. i was "done" in a way -- finished with trying to improve my own situation. But with all this energy and life left in me, what else is there to do but help others realize the same thing for themselves?"
Friday, February 4, 2011
Back to School
At the start of my last semester, it's finally apparent that this experience is coming to an end. Semesters always begin slowly, so I've had a bit of time to think: what can I do that would be most effective in furthering my goals? Am I pursuing the right goals? I'm pretty confident that the answer to the latter is yes, since I've spent a lot of time questioning myself for the past few years. Now it's just a matter of getting there.
The slow start has also helped with meditation. I spent about an hour a day for 3 days, and felt like I made more progress towards "real" happiness than I did the entire last semester. I really owe most of it to careful reading of this (free) book, which I think is absolutely amazing. It describes what I had been trying to do for the past few years, but in such a clear and concise way that I've been able to turn it into tangible (and energizing) progress. (If you do end up reading it, make sure to take it slow. I've re-read a lot of sections I didn't understand the first time, and it has really paid off).
One closing thought -- lack of sleep definitely hinders progress towards happiness. Get some rest :) (Or pre-order your Lark here! :) )
A ramp into the clouds (on the Charles)
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Laughing at pain
Today while meditating, I had two amazing realizations. They're both well understood to experts, but it was powerful to experience them first hand.
As I sat there, somewhere around 45 minutes in, my leg began to hurt. As I sometimes do, I turned my attention to the pain, which steadily increased. As time passed, the pain became intense, but so long as I paid attention to it, it was manageable.
This time, however, I looked very closely at the sensation of the pain, and noticed there were two parts. One was the pain itself, which had a dull, aching, almost sour quality to it, and was located directly inside my leg. However, there was nothing inherently objectionable about that feeling. The other part was some piece of my mind that was constantly triggering thoughts about getting away from the pain. It wasn't the thoughts themselves; whatever it was lay deep beneath anything conscious. Still, I could see its effects directly. It was spewing a stream of different thoughts aimed at getting me to take action to remove the pain.
Some of the more common ones included "how much longer do I have left before this session is up?", "if i just lean forward a bit, circulation will come back and the pain will lessen", "remember how good it feels when you're done meditating and the pain stops?", "check the clock to see if it's almost time to stop meditating", and "I think it's time to go -- Julia's waiting for you. Let's end this pain". It was amazing how clever this "pain avoidance" part of my brain was. It dressed itself up in all kinds of different thoughts, both direct and indirect, in an attempt to get me to take action. Still, I sat there and watched the pain. And that's when the second realization came.
As the pain intensified, I noticed that my sense of time became much sharper. I was very aware of how long each minute was, and felt worried that it would be a long time before I finished meditating. I began to feel a sense of urgency about a lot of things: urgency to finish meditation, urgency to get up and go do something, urgency to go eat lunch, urgency to go hang out with Julia. For a while, I felt the urgency without noticing it consciously. At some point though, I suddenly became aware of it, and realized that it was completely arbitrary. I saw that it too was arising from my mind's attempt to get me to stop the pain. Once I understood that, I took a good look at the feeling of urgency itself, and it quickly dissipated (very similar to the way that a patch of fog dissolves in the warm sun).
Once I had realized the arbitrary and desperate nature of my mind's attempts to escape pain, I just started laughing (which has never happened to me before during meditation). Despite the intensity of the pain, a deep happiness washed over me, and I couldn't stop smiling if I tried (which has happened before :) ).
Behind that joy and laughter was a profound sense of contentment stemming from the understanding that pain, no matter how intense, can always be overcome. And that follows for all the negative emotions like sadness, anger, greed, hate, depression, jealousy, uncontrollable desire, and so on. All it takes is time, effort, and focus.
I will definitely keep at it.
As I sat there, somewhere around 45 minutes in, my leg began to hurt. As I sometimes do, I turned my attention to the pain, which steadily increased. As time passed, the pain became intense, but so long as I paid attention to it, it was manageable.
This time, however, I looked very closely at the sensation of the pain, and noticed there were two parts. One was the pain itself, which had a dull, aching, almost sour quality to it, and was located directly inside my leg. However, there was nothing inherently objectionable about that feeling. The other part was some piece of my mind that was constantly triggering thoughts about getting away from the pain. It wasn't the thoughts themselves; whatever it was lay deep beneath anything conscious. Still, I could see its effects directly. It was spewing a stream of different thoughts aimed at getting me to take action to remove the pain.
Some of the more common ones included "how much longer do I have left before this session is up?", "if i just lean forward a bit, circulation will come back and the pain will lessen", "remember how good it feels when you're done meditating and the pain stops?", "check the clock to see if it's almost time to stop meditating", and "I think it's time to go -- Julia's waiting for you. Let's end this pain". It was amazing how clever this "pain avoidance" part of my brain was. It dressed itself up in all kinds of different thoughts, both direct and indirect, in an attempt to get me to take action. Still, I sat there and watched the pain. And that's when the second realization came.
As the pain intensified, I noticed that my sense of time became much sharper. I was very aware of how long each minute was, and felt worried that it would be a long time before I finished meditating. I began to feel a sense of urgency about a lot of things: urgency to finish meditation, urgency to get up and go do something, urgency to go eat lunch, urgency to go hang out with Julia. For a while, I felt the urgency without noticing it consciously. At some point though, I suddenly became aware of it, and realized that it was completely arbitrary. I saw that it too was arising from my mind's attempt to get me to stop the pain. Once I understood that, I took a good look at the feeling of urgency itself, and it quickly dissipated (very similar to the way that a patch of fog dissolves in the warm sun).
Once I had realized the arbitrary and desperate nature of my mind's attempts to escape pain, I just started laughing (which has never happened to me before during meditation). Despite the intensity of the pain, a deep happiness washed over me, and I couldn't stop smiling if I tried (which has happened before :) ).
Behind that joy and laughter was a profound sense of contentment stemming from the understanding that pain, no matter how intense, can always be overcome. And that follows for all the negative emotions like sadness, anger, greed, hate, depression, jealousy, uncontrollable desire, and so on. All it takes is time, effort, and focus.
I will definitely keep at it.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Don't forget
Today I got caught reading a long Khmer Rouge survival story (that triggered some thoughts).
When we went out to interview people for a sanitation project in rural Cambodia, I sometimes stopped listening as they spoke; I couldn't help but wonder what their eyes had seen during those years.
Back in the US, I find it hard listen to the idle chit-chat about the newest gadgets, random music, or someone's latest startup idea. It's not that thoughts of tragedy make me depressed -- rather, they strengthen my motivation to help. I'm reminded that life is short, and that we must maintain focus on that which is truly meaningful. So many still need the help that we are fully capable of providing (if we could only stop worrying about the little things in our own lives).
Find your inspiration, and make it happen :)
When we went out to interview people for a sanitation project in rural Cambodia, I sometimes stopped listening as they spoke; I couldn't help but wonder what their eyes had seen during those years.
Back in the US, I find it hard listen to the idle chit-chat about the newest gadgets, random music, or someone's latest startup idea. It's not that thoughts of tragedy make me depressed -- rather, they strengthen my motivation to help. I'm reminded that life is short, and that we must maintain focus on that which is truly meaningful. So many still need the help that we are fully capable of providing (if we could only stop worrying about the little things in our own lives).
Find your inspiration, and make it happen :)
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