Feelings

Feelings VIII: The Sense of Joy

Ron Johnson appreciation, emotional maturity, Feelings, happiness, mindfulness, Positive psychology

Feelings VIII: The Sense of Joy

A couple of blogs past we offered Feelings VI: It’s All About Hurt, and then paradoxically offered Feelings VII: It’s Not All About Hurt in which we suggested that the feeling of joy is just as important as the feeling of sadness, which is the heart of “hurt.” Today we would like to unpack this business of joy and try to be practical about how we can experience and express more joy in our lives. Keep in mind that the emotion of sadness and the emotion of joy are on a continuum of love. In other words, we feel joy and sadness singularly because we love something: joy when we have it, sadness when we lose it. We have written extensively in several venues (blogs, papers, and our book, The Power of Positive Sadness) about the importance of sadness, which we yet think is the heart of most difficulties people have in life, like relationship problems, anxiety, depression, and anger. But today we would like to look at the other side of the “love continuum,” namely the side that is about having something that we love, which brings some kind of joy to us.

Joy is most easily recognized through one or more of our five senses, but also comes through intuition, cognition and fantasy, which we are daring to call our “sixth sense”. We will start this discussion by examining the ways joy enters our system through our five physical senses and then proceed into the murky waters of intuition. As we examine the various ways that we experience joy, consider your own experiences with joy, whether recent or long past.

Joy coming through the sense of smell (olfactory)

This might seem an odd way to begin our discussion of the experience of joy in the five senses. When we think of smell, we generally think of bad smell, rank, rancid, or disgusting. So, while smell might not seem the most obvious way to start a discussion of joy as experienced in the five senses, it is actually the most important place to start because the sense of smell is our most basic sense. Consider the animal kingdom, whether it is a bear sniffing the air for the scent of pray or your dog sniffing telephone poles and certain portions of other animals’ anatomy, and you will see this most central sense operating in nonhuman animals. Smell might well have been the first sense developed, at least by mammals. Furthermore, there is an interesting thing about smell that most people don’t know but that contributes to many addictions. With all the other four senses (sight, touch, hearing, and taste) information that comes into the sense organs goes through a transfer point in the brain before we actually have cognition of it. But smell goes through no transfer point, and instead goes directly into the cerebral cortex, which then creates some kind of thought or action. It seems that this most primitive sense remains primary, at least if we see how smells are processed in the brain. Interested readers might rea about pheromones, which are chemicals that trigger a social response in the animal kingdom including humans. It is the smell of something that immediately enters our brain, much more quickly than the other four senses. Consider the aromas that entice you, like flowers, new mown hay, meat cooking on the grill, the stew simmering on the stove or the smell of fresh air in the autumn.

Joy in hearing (auditory)

Something heard might be offensive, but actually most of what is heard is on the pleasant side of the spectrum of like/dislike. There are many kinds of sounds that reach our brains through our ears. Music is one of the predominate vehicles for experiencing joy through the sense of hearing.  Music is universal from tribal drums to Gregorian chants. Music is described often as “moving” “Being moved” is a way of describing this indescribable experience we call feeling that connects us to either a memory or evokes a sense of ease and peace internally. What pleases you when it comes to music: Christmas cantatas, a bit of sax jazz or maybe the Spanish guitar?  The choices are as varied as there are people in the world. The feeling that one has with music is what we want to discuss in our continuing attempt to get at what “feeling” is all about.

What does it mean to be “moved” by music? This “being moved” is a “feeling,” including emotion but it is more than emotion. One person can have a profoundly positive experience and another a significantly negative one, all to the same music. Once at a men’s workshop, I played Pacobel’s Cannon, to which Deb and I were married, and which I find to be quite “moving” in a positive way. I enjoy hearing the Canon. However, when I played the Canon, one of the men in the group said, “I hate this piece of music.” Both his feeling and mine were genuine, both were valid, and both needed to be expressed but not to incite an argument. Bob and I took turns talking about our feelings about the Canon and in so doing, learned about each other.

While the most dramatic, music is not the only auditory experience that can bring positive feelings. Pleasant auditory feelings can be nature-created: wind through pines, the cardinal’s song, water lapping and rain on the roof. Human made sounds can be just as wonderful: Distant train horns, office laughter, the giggling of young children, engines operating at peak performance, or even the ticking of a clock.

Note the sounds in your life that bring you a sense of pleasure, which is that “feeling” coming to you when you hear something wonderous or satisfying. How often do you comment on these favorable sounds compared to the honking cars, barking dogs, or screaming children that you find offensive?

Joy in touch (kinesthetic)

As music is first to come to mind when we think of pleasurable sounds, sex usually comes to mind when we think of pleasurable experiences of touch. Certainly, sexual contact in its many forms is nearly universally a good feeling. There are, of course, many people, for whom this is not the case, not the least of which are those who have been molested early in life. For the larger majority of people, sexual touch is gratifying and brings this good feeling, “good feeling” being a term we have used for the many experiences in life.  One of the components of sexual or intimate touching is that it is generally reciprocal. It is the exchange of touch the give and take that adds so much to sexual or intimate pleasure.

“Just touching”, that is the simple act of tactile engagement brings a multiplicity of pleasure. The first jump of summer into a cool lake, brushing your hand along ancient monuments,  stroking your pet or ruffling the hair of a child, grasping your favorite fountain pen or the warmth of your morning coffee mug.  For some, like artisans, the touch of their tool can actually ignite their inspiration. A carpenter can pick up a block of wood and sense what to do with it. I know an artist who describes the picking up of her brushes as a “holy sensation”. We all know the wonderfulness of touching our pet or feeling them brush up near us, to hug a friend at the airport when they arrive, a good strong and secure handshake at the end of a successful business meeting and of course, the pleasure of when your grand-daughter slips her little hand into yours is that “good feeling” that is only experiences through touch.

Touching and being touched can reach deep inside of us and may even reach our core self. If I am touched by a person familiar to me, that touching can be quite spontaneous as well as particularly pleasant, partly because the touch was unexpected. At that moment, you can feel something special, something of a connection, something safe even though the touch was simple and short. This simple and short positive experience can also occur when you touch something, whether living or nonliving. What happens in moments like this is that this person or thing has had an enhancing effect on you. You feel yourself, and also you feel better in some way. Do you acknowledge the pleasure, contentment, connection, or safety that comes with certain kinds of touch?

Joy in taste (gustatory)

Similar to the olfactory senses, the sense of taste provides the greatest variety of good and bad feelings. “Good” and “bad” may be due largely to acquired taste. Who immediately liked coffee when you first tasted it as a child? Who didn’t like ice cream as a child? It appears that the sense of taste, more than any of the other five senses, appears to develop over time largely with familial and cultural influences. I am impressed with Mexican and East Indian folks who can pop hot peppers into their mouths and enjoy the flavor when some people might become seriously ill with such ingestion. Consider the taste of sugar, meat, fruits, vegetables, alcoholic drinks, and a glass of water with a fresh slice of lemon or lime. Which are to your liking. Which feel right? My wife loves to prepare green bean in drizzle of olive oil, a well sliced onion and a good splash of white wine and wonders how anyone else wouldn’t like her prep.  Our grandson doesn’t like green beans at all, and probably wouldn’t even if grandmother coated them in sugar. Taste is about as individual as there are people on the planet.

Joy in sight (visual)

A picture is worth a thousand words, right? I continue to find that true even as my preferred mode of communication is with spoken or written words. Sight is perhaps my weakest sense, at least somewhat due to the fact that I am color blind. When Deb points out the roses on a wild rose bush we pass on the road, or the tomatoes on the vine as we are walking from the office to the house, I am always at a loss to see such things. As we speak we are in the last of summer where everything is lush and green, perhaps my least favorite color because I often cannot distinguish green from red, brown, or gray. Where Deb uses terms like Kelly green or chartreuse, or when I read something like “very verde,” I am bemused because all these colors are simply green. Driving home from our cabin up north last week the forests were alive with color and shape for Deb, the shades very distinct. I can appreciate a sunset and the like, and I even commented to Deb on how we might have a full moon next week, but I am not moved by things visual the way so many people are.

People who are more gifted in matters visual are a gift to the world. Such people are those who create visual things and those who appreciate them. Clearly, artists of all visual forms are those who use their talents to enhance the visual beauty of the world. There is something special in the artist who often feels compelled to create visual art. Michelangelo reportedly “saw” David before he carved him and only needed to chip away the marble from what he “saw.” Artists certainly have an appreciation for art in its many forms, perhaps especially in their chosen modality, but appreciation of art is something that many people have. Things that are seen include the created art of painting, natural art of the Colorado Mountains or Niagara Falls, or the simple beauty of two young girls dressed up for a dance recital. In everything seen, there is potential for joy or for disgust. Consider how many times you have spoken of what you have seen noting the frequency of your comments about what is beautiful.

There are many more things seen that are quite beautiful, often only to the eye of the beholder. Once while playing basketball, I was lucky enough to catch a “baseball pass” from a teammate and make a layup. A few minutes later another teammate graciously said my play was “a thing of beauty.” There are many such things of beauty that the “eye of the beholder” might see that others might not including shapes of objects, like elements of nature, human-made objects, or the human body. Use your imagination.

With all of the senses we are discussing, consider if for you it is easier to focus on the negative compared to the joyful. Then you might just share this joy coming from one or more of your senses, or you might be just as pleased to recognize it and remember it.

Further reading

Previous 7 blogs on Feelings

Forthcoming Feelings IX: joy from the sixth sense (intuition)

Weeping Loons

Deb Brock Connection, Discovery, Feelings, grief, mindfulness, Self-Awareness, Spiritual

I have a nostalgic memory, both pleasant and painful, that occurred a couple years ago. I was sitting on the porch of our most heavenly cabin enjoying a strong summer rain storm. The Loons came to me and wept.

There had been a squall, unlike anything I had ever seen.  I love water, I love being in and on the water, I even profess that in a former life surely, I was a sea captain given my language skills and the synchronization I always seem to experience in the rocking of waves. So when this massive storm came in, I was enthralled. I have seen storms depicted in movies of through reading old sailor tales, which I love. But sitting on the cabin porch watching this massive blanket of what seemed like solid water come across our little lake was daunting, exciting and surreal all in that brief period of time during which it came.

The summer had already been an exciting one for people like me who treasure times on the lake.  It had been an exciting summer because we had Loons.  Loons! Lovely, stately, and wildly calling Loons.  Each evening with the regular 4 PM-5 PM passage of lake residents’ pontoon boats, we would all wave and smile of course, because that is what you do on the little lake.  It doesn’t matter how many times you wave to the same person or crowd, you just wave with each passing be it from the shore, as we most often were, playing Chinese checkers on the porch, a kayak, a paddle boat or pontoon. So, in our accustomed ease of summer delight we waved but this particular year with the Loon business we always asked: “noticed the Loons this evening?  Any motion in the nest”?

That was the conversation: Loons. We had Loons on our little lake and we were all thrilled.  Due to the long-timers on the lake there was even Loon Squad who put up low wake signs, and Loon Alert Signs on the island where they had nested.   We not only had a pair of loons visiting our lake, they had selected this new home on the island just across from our cabin, the nest nearly within eye sight from our front porch.

It was clear that momma and papa Loon were keeping constant eyes on the nest, one always being nearby when we paddled quietly around the island. We knew that we couldn’t paddle too close to the nest so we had to strain to catch a glimpse of their well-hidden nest. The nest was close to the water, as is the custom of Loons. I understand loons build nests close to the water because of the difficulty of their landing and take-off patterns. If you have ever seen a Loon take flight from the water, it is quite the scene, comical in a way, literally taking a running start just skimming the water paddling as fast as they can the difference between water and air until they finally get from flap into flight.

It had been confirmed by one of the Loon squad that there was only one egg in the nest.  Okay, one egg it is, which is not unusual.  Surely, we all thought, we would be seeing a new loon within the next few days!  At least, Ron and I hoped that would be the case because we would be at the cabin only another few days.

Then the rain came. Typical of summer storms, the brightness gave way to darkening clouds, then droplets plucking the lake.  Then the stinging pelts came, and then the squall hit, hard and fast. From gathering of dark clouds to blankets of white water coming straight across the lake in front of us in so short a time. Coming from the East, the wayward wind.

I admit, I didn’t think about the Loons and the nest during the squall because I was mesmerized by the squall’s swift power. I allowed the old sea captain in me to remanence through my imagination.  Then, as soon as it came, the squall seemed to be gone. Where did it go?  How did it come and go so fast, almost as if it were all in my imagination? It came and it went and then, like anyone else who enjoys the refreshment of a post summer storm, we walked down to sit on the dock as the waters settled down and sun came back out.

Then they came, the Loons, Mother and Father directly to the end of our dock. We thought it was cool to begin with. Maybe they came to visit and “ask how we were”. They came to wail in our presence.  This was not their distant, enchanting evening call from across the lake. These two Loons came with in feet of our dock and circled and simply cried.  They wept and wailed inconsolably. It didn’t take the therapist in me to realize this was a cry of great grief.  Then it hit me “Oh no, the storm must have taken our little brown egg!” Oh Loons, oh I am so sorry! The loons were knocking on my therapist door to sit with me as they wailed.

I made every human effort I could to communicate how sorry I was for them. I cooed them, I cried with them, I extended my arms to them in a universal gesture of comfort. But I could not effectively comfort them. Such is so often the case in grief, whether human or otherwise. The loons came, circled about, and wept. We cried with them. I did my best to console but alas, I doubt my consolation was sufficient. Though it seemed eternal, swiftly after they come, they left. They circled while weeping and then they left our dock.  Ron and I held each other and continued our own sadness of this most human-like loss.

Their nest had indeed been washed out by the squall.  They had lost their egg, their single, beautiful, well loved, and proudly protected lightly brown egg. Our potential three were just two again.

The Loons left our little lake not long afterward. It was several years before we again heard in the distance the magnificence of an evening Loon call. I don’t know if any other loons ever nested on the island again. The sound of the Loons has been random over the last few years. Even though random, the haunting loon-like melody is always treasured and hope-inspiring. We yet hope that “The Loons” would come back to our lake and nest again.

They have come back. This summer, the enticing and stirring call of the Loons has been frequent. This last week, our July week, has been daily gladdened by their sounds and their sights as we share our little lake.  It is so wonderful to see them. There is a peace that settles over me when I see them an hear them, as is true with most who treasure the lure of the Loons. I always say hello to them and invite them to stay on our little lake in hopes they will. I sit in my morning kayak bobbing on the water with them, as they dip and dive and tease me with where they might resurface. I stop and close my eyes and cock my ear to their evening tunes that settles me into a deep contemplative breath.

Again, the time had come for us to depart our little private paradise and return home until next month. And as is our usual custom, Ron and I go down to the end of our dock for the last evening sit. It was that most wonderful time of pre-night, “waning dusk” as some poet once call it, when sun’s glow has been all but snuffed and the star light is yet only a hint, that up from the darkening water came one Loon, right in front of our dock. Ron and I took each other’s hand and smiled, then up came another, and then, how about that, one more, smaller little guy! Then just as they came up one by one by one, they dove back down into the water, one papa, one momma, and one young proud of little loon. I guess they just wanted to come by and say “Hello, just wanted you to know we are feeling better now. See you next month when you come back.”

Feelings 6: It’s All About Hurt

Ron Johnson emotional maturity, Feelings, mindfulness, Positive psychology, relationships, Self-Awareness

We have talked about the phenomenon of hurt in previous “Feelings” blogs, primarily in Feelings: 2 (Expressing Feelings), but it behooves us to return to hurt and unpack it a bit. I will cover the following things about “hurt”:

  • Hurt is another of the important undefinable words that we can have an understanding about without an exact definition.
  • Hurt comes from an “assault.” What is “assaulted” is something that you love. These assaults are usually unintentional. Sometimes they even come from yourself.
  • Hurt is the substantive cause of all arguments, most divorces, and most wars.
  • Hurt is very difficult to adequately express, much less communicate, much less understand when someone says they hurt you.
  • Unfortunately, when someone tells you that you have hurt that person, this often comes as a kind of assault on you, usually causing you to defend yourself.

Hurt is a love problem

I want to bring the expression, “I am hurt” out of the negative appearance that it normally has. Hurt is actually a very positive feeling, positive because we feel hurt when we have lost something that is important to us. We get hurt when we have lost something that we love. When something we love has been lost, we feel sad. Recall that sadness is a love-based feeling. I feel sad when I have lost something that I love, or value. First, I love something; then I get attacked in some way; then I l lose something; then I feel hurt; and then I get sad because I have lost something that I love. Hurt naturally makes us sad. We discuss this at length in The Power of Positive Sadness, which we would suggest you peruse for a more cogent explanation of this love-attack-loss-hurt-sad phenomenon.

Hurt is about me

“You hurt me” is a very important statement to make and a very important statement to be heard and understood, but it is extremely difficult to do on both counts. When I say, “You hurt me” to someone, this statement is about me, not about the other person. This is not a concept that is easy to grasp, mostly because when people say, “You hurt me,” they tend then to indulge themselves in saying what is wrong about the other person. Thus, “You hurt me” usually leads into a criticism of the other person in the form of, “You shouldn’t have said this or that…” or “You should have said this or that….” When most people say, “You hurt me,” the focus is on the you, not the me.

So, how is the statement, “You hurt me,” about me? It seems I am talking about the other person when I say that s/he hurt me. But think about it: when I tell someone that they have hurt me, I am really talking about the emotional effect the other person had on me. Yes, the other person said or did something (or failed to say or do something), but their words, action, or lack thereof hurt you. Why? Because something important in you was assaulted in some way. I have heard people say that instead of saying, “You hurt me,” that you should say, “I feel hurt.” I hotly disagree. “I feel hurt” lies flat and says nothing about me, nothing about the relationship, much less what really happened. I know I am asking a lot of people to say, and to hear, “You hurt me” because it sounds like an attack on the other person. Once people get used to saying and hearing, “You hurt me,” they will begin to understand this very central ingredient of human relationships. We hurt each other all the time, and we need to have a meaningful and honest mechanism to deal with it. If we can’t feel hurt through and think it through, hurt migrates into anger, resentment, fear, or punishment.

When hurt turns to resentment

Hurt turns to resentment when it is not felt for what it is. Hurt is essentially sadness, or perhaps sadness results immediately after you have been hurt. If you can stay with hurt and sadness, you will stay with love, namely something that you have loved that you have lost. If you fail to acknowledge that you have been hurt, this hurt/sadness will almost immediately turn to anger, resentment, and fear. And possibly to punishment. Anger, fear, and the like come about because people have not adequately expressed hurt (and sadness), and/or have not heard hurt (and sadness). It is not natural to become immediately angry when I have been hurt. The natural process of hurt and its resolution is the following:

  • I love something
  • I am assaulted
  • I lose that something that I have loved
  • I feel hurt. I naturally feel sad
  • I recognize that I have loved something and focus on this love
  • I may choose to say I am hurt or allow the hurt to finish on its own

Hurt turns to resentment, anger and fear because normal (not natural) way people process hurt is:

  • I love something
  • I am assaulted and lose that something
  • I feel hurt but quickly move beyond hurt. I don’t want to be hurt again so I defend myself by being afraid and angry.
  • I may say, “I am hurt,” but I will say it as an attack.
  • I remain hurt, but now I have added resentment, which might never go away.
  • Hurts and resentment tend to pile up. I have new hurts over old hurts. (We all have unfinished and unresolved old hurts that are unfortunately brought into any new hurt, but this is a more extensive discussion that we will delay)

Hurt in work, play, and personal contacts

Hurt doesn’t always come from parents or from intimate partners. Hurt can come from work and other relationships. As adults, work is where we spend most of our time with people, and it is the place where most hurt actually occurs. But because we are at work, and work is not the place to express feelings, we have more hurt stored up there than anywhere else. And it is a primary reason we are hardest on our intimate partners because they take this hurt home and expect their partners to somehow fix it. Hurt easily occurs in extended family settings where you see family members once a year and do not have intimate relationships with these folks. Again, this hurt is often taken home because it can’t be resolved at the family reunion. Hurt can even occur in recreational activities. Much of this is due to the competition that is often part of recreation. Too many pickup basketball games end with some kind of verbal clash, if not even physical. Even a friendly card game can bring some kind of hurt, much less an intense game of chess. A baby shower, however benign in its appearance, can lead to hurt depending on what is given, received, and appreciated. Hurt comes in many forms, in many places, and at many times.

Daily hurts

It is a rare day that I am not hurt in some way. Recently, a patient expressed dissatisfaction with a report I had completed for him. He had every right to be disappointed with what I had to say. It doesn’t matter how much I worked on the report, what I thought of the report, or even the ultimate value of the report to him. In his mind he expected something other than what he got, and he has every right to be disappointed. And I have every right to be hurt. In this circumstance, namely in the therapy room, it did not behoove me to express my hurt, but I knew that I was hurt and did not let it migrate into fear or anger. In fact, I actually understood why he has some trouble with relationships in the way he challenged my report and what his expectations are. But importantly, my cognition of his demeanor and the reasons for his challenge did not diminish my hurt. I did my best in my report; it was not good for him; he was hurt; he expressed his disapproval; and I was hurt. This kind of daily hurt, unavoidable hurt, needs to be recognized, felt, and finished. Sometimes, you will say you are hurt and sometimes you won’t depending on the situation.

Sometimes you hurt yourself

Hurts don’t always come from someone else. They can just as easily come from a mistake you made, a misunderstood word spoken to you, or no word of appreciation spoken to you. If you recognize that you are hurt by these small things, you will be better able to deal with the larger hurts in your life. This is simply saying to yourself, “My bad” and allowing yourself to feel a moment of hurt and accompanying sadness. If you can allow yourself to be hurt by some mistake you made, you will become more aware of other people’s hurt, and accept it as normal

Knowing others’ hurt

We had an experience recently with friends who wanted to take us out to dinner. The request came when we were actually quite exhausted and needed a simple night home reading a book or playing a game. These friends are good people and some of the people we most enjoy being with, but on this particular night we didn’t want to be with anybody. This sometimes happens after a hard day’s work listing and working with people struggle with their lives. When we told Sam that we appreciated his offer, but that we were truly tired, he accepted our regrets with a kind demeanor. We came to know that our declining his invitation had hurt him. It wasn’t his initial kindness and demeanor that stuck us, but rather his words and actions afterwards. He said that he wanted to stop by and pick up a tool that he had left in my garage but that he was in a hurry and just buzz in and buzz out. It seemed quite clear to me that he was hurt, and that he was avoiding us because of his hurt. Now, this is no big deal, and we will likely never talk about it, but it was important for us to know that we had hurt him. I wonder how a conversation might have gone if he had simply said, “Ron, I was really hurt when you declined our offer for dinner.” I don’t think Sam is ready for that kind of conversation, so I will simply need to know that I hurt him and do my best in the future to be kind to him. It can be a bit of a burden to know your own hurt, know someone else’s hurt, and wisely choose to keep it all to yourself.

Resolution of hurt

So, what do we do with all this hurt: hurt at home, hurt with my intimate, hurt with my relatives, hurt with friends, hurt at work, hurt at the grocery store, and hurt in play situations? You do the following in order: (1) recognize hurt when it happens, (2) prevent hurt from migrating into anger or fear, (3) remember that hurt always comes from love, (4) determine whether you have the place, the time, and the person with whom you can share hurt, and if not, (5) note this hurt in your memory as something you might want to come back to at another time; (6) note that the feeling of hurt may have evaporated on its own. The key is # 1: recognizing hurt.

Further Reading

Feeling blogs 1-5

Forthcoming blog Feeling 7: It’s Not all about Hurt

Forthcoming book: Let Me Tell You How I Feel.