In the book Authentic Happiness by Martin Seligman, a study was done that observed dogs and pain. Dr. Seligman and his researchers placed dogs in a cage that had shock pads in the floor. The shocks were moderately painful for the dogs and the dogs searched around the cage and jumped trying to get away from the painful shocks—not a very pleasant experiment! But, Seligman wanted to see if he could train the dogs to put up with the pain and stop searching for relief. With the group, Seligman continued to shock the dogs in the cages. Yet, after a few weeks of this the dogs stopped moving around and simply sat and received the shocks. Then, Seligman placed the dogs were in a cage where only half of the floor was laid with shockers. Sadly, the dogs did not even try to escape. They had stopped looking for a way out. Even when the dogs were shown how to move onto the shock-free area, the dogs still did not move!

This brings up the question, do we teach ourselves to put up with pain, give in to it and accept it? I consistently see this when I work with people who feel that their situation as hopeless—whether that is hard time at work, an abusive boss or a bully on Facebook. Let’s take for example a friend who had an unfair boss. This boss was incredibly strict and seemed to have it out for my friend, Jenny. Jenny, normally very hard-working, found her job–once fulfilling, completely debilitating to her self-esteem. She dreaded it all weekend long and after the first few failed assignments and projects, merely stopped trying to do better. Like a dog who experiences his first few times in the shock cage, Jenny’s first instinct was to avoid the pain and do better. Yet, this didn’t work, the boss continued to throw her curve balls and pick on her in meetings—like the dog that had nowhere to go. In the end it just sat miserably, receiving shock after shock. However, a few months after the new boss came, he transferred to another office. I said to Jenny, “Aren’t you so excited you will get a second chance at work! You can do better again.” Jenny stared at my blankly, much like I imagine a dog would in a half shocking cage. “I can’t do it. I am just going to keep slacking. The job can’t be fun anymore.”

This experience, which comes up in many other scenarios reminded me how easy it is for the human mind to become accustomed to pain and hopelessness and then even when there is a way out, fail to take it. Somehow, either the pain of the experience is more tolerable—once Jenny failed once, it did not seem so difficult to keep failing, or it seems easier to stay miserable. How can we prevent this from happening in our own lives?

First, I think it is important to constantly examine the areas of your life that you think bring you emotional or physical pain. Sometimes we are unaware of the misery, because we have come to accept it or assume it is natural. Second, looking at that pain and examining alternatives. A silly example is a gym I was going to for two years. I hated this gym and felt it was poorly kept and the trainers were rude to many of the non-private gym members. I would dread workouts even more because of the awful gym. Yet, when renewal came around each year I continued to renew it even though there are many gyms to choose from in my area. It took this study for me to realize that I could easily switch—or move off the shocking floor of my cage. Third, make sure you are not suffering as a martyr or because you think you deserve it. Many people I work with often pick difficult routes or refuse help because they do not think they deserve to be helped or be happy. Think carefully what purpose misery serves in your life and decide to move on from it. Everyone deserves to be happy.

 

I do not know about you, but I was taught to avoid making mistakes. As I got older, I got good at avoiding making mistakes on tests, in relationships and in business. Yet, I still—as everyone, make many mistakes. When this happens, depending on how big the mistake is, I get very down on myself, feel disappointed and even a bit depressed. The self-talk goes something like this:

“Vanessa, what were you thinking! You know better than that.”

“Well, that was stupid, wasn’t it? How could you be so dumb?”

Negative self-talk and self-punishment not only made my mistakes worse, but also did not help me in preventing them from happening again. This made me realize that there was a fundamental part of my childhood lesson on mistakes that was not taught: Don’t make mistakes, but when you do, find a way to learn from them. I realized that learning how to cultivate our mistakes is essential for moving on from them, having less emotional grief and preventing them from happening again.

So, how do we cultivate our mistakes and learn to learn from them?

1. Examine past mistakes with a new eye.

I wanted to find the silver lining and lessons from all of my past mistakes—and believe me there are plenty. So I sat down with my journal and went through the ones that really made my skin crawl. You know those experiences that when you think of them your stomach instantly knots up? I wrote down all of the positive things that came out of the experience and how I have avoided, or not, making them again. This helped me focus on the lessons for later and not be so ashamed.

2. Practice your future mistakes.

I know it sounds weird to practice making mistakes, but this can actually take down anxiety and worry. I think this one is essential.  If I am worried about something coming up, I often play ‘worst-case scenario and best-case scenario’ and think about what would happen if I did make a mistake. Often times I realize that it is not so bad, and I would learn to do it better next time.

3. Take the stigma out of mistakes.

This is a big one. I think the perfect syndrome is rampant, especially amongst anxiety-riddled 20 somethings in a recession. We need to be more gentle with each other and ourselves. Making mistakes can be good. Everyone is always reminded of how Edison failed and made thousands of mistakes before he finally got it right with the light bulb. Mistakes are how we learn, they are normal and I think, essential for success.

Please think about how your mistakes have helped, not hurt you and encourage your loved ones to cultivate mistakes, not avoid them.

 
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Bear with me on this one. I posted the video above because it was a very special moment in my life, an experience I’ve never had before and likely will never have again. For a few hours I was watching, listening and singing to one of the greatest musicians of our time and probably of all time. Sure this sounds like hyperbole, and it might be, but for me it was almost as if I was in the presence of Mozart or Beethoven as they were conducting some of their masterpieces. Where am I going with this? It’s the perfect illustration of a principle at Living Radically:

Value the experiences you’re afforded far higher than replaceable and expendable material possessions.

This is a maxim we live by and think about as we’re planning everything from our trips abroad to our plans for the weekend. There are far more interesting and enriching experiences to be had on this earth than there are items to be bought. This is hardly a revolutionary idea, but it’s one that is worth reminding ourselves about frequently. In a society constantly producing magical new gadgets, fashionable shoes, and other amazing widgets, the transient properties of material objects have to be highlighted. There will always be a new iPhone out next year (much to my bank account’s chagrin), but there will only ever be one Paul McCartney, and unfortunately for us all, our paths will cross once only if we are beyond lucky.

We are presented with choices between experiences and objects more often than we would think. When you’re in some remote village for example, it may be easier to remember that place by buying a souvenir to put on your dresser at home. It’s our firm belief however that one’s life would be far more enriched had you instead eaten at a local restaurant and talked with some of the local people, or rented an apartment in a non-touristy part of town and actually lived in that village for a period of time. Certainly these things aren’t mutually exclusive, but too often people visit a place and purchase a few items from the souvenir stalls and call it a day.

Another way I look at my choices, particularly when financial or time reasons limit my actions to either an experience or a material object, is running the “50 year test.” I look at my choices and say will I remember either of these two things 50 years from now? Let’s use my real life example above. When looking at tickets for Paul McCartney, or going out to dinner a few times this month at some really nice restaurants in LA, which one will I be more likely to remember in 50 years? The answer to me is clear – go with the concert.

“But experiences are usually way more expensive than that souvenir I want to bring home,” you say. Quite right in terms of cost to you up front, but I look at it another way. Instead of looking at the plain cost of that flight over the Andes mountain vs. the hand sewn sweater in the artisan market, I look instead at the cost divided by the utilization I’ll get out of each item. My personal tastes means that the enjoyment I get out of the actual flight, plus all the memories I’ll take with me, plus the stories I can tell friends and families about the experience make the cost much more palatable than that hand sewn sweater. It may not be the same calculation for you, but the point is just because something may be 10 times more expensive on the surface, doesn’t mean it’s necessarily more expensive when amortized across a lifetime of happiness derived from one event.