Who Am I and If So How Many? (31 page)

But as we all know, this ecstatic harmony doesn’t last – which may be a good thing. Too much serotonin leads to apathy, and an excess of dopamine can result in obsessiveness, delusions of grandeur, megalomania, and insanity. After a short time, the receptors in the brain become dulled to these chemical agents, and the magic fades. A desperate attempt to prolong what is meant to be a transitory condition can culminate in destructive cravings for drugs, sex, or success.

No one can remain in a state of absolute harmony indefinitely. Staying in the here and now, getting caught up in the moment and letting everything else, including time, fade out in a blur is a nice idea that Eastern philosophy promotes, but psychologically it can be overwhelming. From a neurochemical perspective, it transforms an exceptional state into a norm. Expansive feelings of happiness are ‘isles of the blessed’ in the ocean of our lives, but we cannot use them as an ongoing means to a successful life.

Lasting happiness can be achieved only if our expectations are grounded in reality. If happiness and unhappiness are essentially of our own devising, they are largely a function of how we set our expectations. That is the only way to explain why people in difficult circumstances can be happier than people who lead lives of privilege. Being in deepest harmony with oneself, which is how Ludwig Marcuse defines happiness, means achieving harmony with our own expectations and the expectations of others, about which we in turn have expectations: Niklas Luhmann uses the term ‘expected expectations.’

Of course, it doesn’t do much good to be in harmony with ourselves if this inner harmony clashes with the people around us, which is one of the reasons it is so difficult to implement Eastern philosophical precepts outside the confines of a monastery.

When I was doing community service in lieu of joining the military in the mid-1980s, I met a social worker whose motto left a lasting impression on me. His goal – and his idea of the optimal goal for everyone – was to liberate himself from his expectations. Heaven forbid! Of all life expectations I have ever imagined, his was surely the grandest and least achievable, because there is no way around our own expectations. The question is not how to shed them, but how to tailor them to suit us. Another option would be to set your expectations low enough to avoid
disappointment
. That’s not a very enticing idea, though, because low expectations generally come from a fear of life and signal a difficulty in dealing with disappointment. Wouldn’t it be better just to learn to cope with disappointments more effectively? If you don’t expect much, you’re not likely to get anywhere.

Many great philosophers have championed the petit bourgeois morality of low expectations and have shied away from the themes of happiness and joie de vivre. In doing so, they have typically attached great importance to ‘contentment’ – the more durable vestige of happiness. Immanuel Kant is a good example. For him, the only realistic happiness is found in fulfilling one’s moral obligation, a somewhat awkward and uneasy fusion of duty and happiness. But considering the dull second half of Kant’s own life, who would want to look to him for advice about happiness?

Happiness and contentment are two different things. And we should take care not to recast pleasure seeking as pain avoidance. Of course both are part of life, and everyone has his own focal points somewhere along this spectrum. It is probably fairly easy to divide our friends and acquaintances into ‘pleasure seekers’ and ‘pain avoiders.’ Their orientations are strongly dependent on their upbringing and temperament. But giving fundamental precedence to avoiding pain over seeking pleasure, as so many religions and philosophies do, is misguided. And the much-lauded ‘
contentment
,’ for all its advantages, is better suited to those who are older and have already achieved a great deal in life; it would be less tempting to younger people still looking for a guiding light.

This, at any rate, is how Martin Seligman, a renowned psychologist and happiness researcher at the University of
Pennsylvania
, sees the matter. For him, ‘authentic happiness’ requires a positive outlook and the pursuit of ‘clear goals’ with ‘deep, effortless involvement.’ The result, we are told, is a gratifying life. That is all well and good, but how do I go about getting a life of that kind? Is it up to me to craft my own happiness?

To some, he was the wisest of all philosophers; to others, he was ‘the Pig.’ Epicurus was born in 341
B.C.E
. on the island of Samos in Greece. He was a myth during his lifetime and even more so after his death, although much in his life remains a mystery even today because virtually everything we know about it comes from a single source, a biography written five hundred years later. Epicurus is said to have come to Athens at the age of eighteen. It was the time of Alexander the Great. When the people of Athens rebelled unsuccessfully after Alexander’s death, Epicurus followed his father into the region of Ephesus in what is today Turkey. When he was thirty-five, he returned to Athens and acquired a garden, the famous
kepos
. This garden soon became the center of the newly flourishing democracy in Athens, and a meeting place for people of all social classes. A small sectlike group lived there, communally and without private property. Women and slaves were also welcome at the
kepos
, which annoyed many Athenians, who gossiped about the guru and his strange customs and spread rumors about orgies and group sex. But those who entered Epicurus’ garden read the inscription over the gate: ‘Stranger, here you will do well to tarry; here our highest good is pleasure. The
caretaker of that abode, a kindly host, will be ready for you; he will welcome you with bread, and serve you water also in abundance with these words: have you not been well entertained? This garden does not whet your appetite, but quenches it.’ Epicurus maintained his garden for nearly thirty years, until his death in 270
BCE
. But the
kepos
was an institution and continued to exist for almost five hundred years after his death.

Details of how Epicurus actually lived in his notorious garden and what he taught there can be gathered indirectly from the books written by his numerous supporters and equally numerous detractors; only a few fragments of his own writings have been preserved. Disciples and adversaries have painted such a divergent picture that it is not easy to separate the wheat from the chaff. His reputation was grossly distorted in later eras, especially by Christian writers.

The radical and strikingly modern aspect of Epicurus’ teaching was his uncommon insistence on relying solely on what the senses revealed about life. Epicurus rejected anything extrasensory, paying no heed to gods or religion. And he insisted that the significance of death for our everyday lives ought not to be overstated: ‘You should accustom yourself to believing that death means nothing to us, since every good and every evil lies in sensation … So long as we are existent death is not present and whenever it is present we are nonexistent.’

Epicurus’ world was restricted to what could be apprehended by the senses. Although he held logical reason in high regard, he linked all knowledge to what the senses could perceive and grasp. He did not presume to know what lay beyond this realm of experience. Epicurus was careful not to make sweeping statements about the nature, origins, and state of the world, unlike so many of his predecessors in Greek philosophy. Actually, he did not set out to provide any exhaustive explanations at all, because everywhere he looked, he discovered gaps in knowledge and flawed explanations. In lieu of crafting an all-encompassing epistemology, he devoted his attention to the question of what
constitutes a successful life within the framework of limited human potentialities. Epicurus realized that there was no easy answer and that he had to make allowances for the contradictory nature of man.

People are programmed to seek pleasurable sensations. Pleasure is nice and displeasure is not. The quest for pleasure is just as natural as the facts that ‘fire is hot, snow is cold, and honey is sweet.’ Adults also aspire to pleasurable sensations, but most pleasures – sex, food, alcohol, and so forth – are of brief duration. The Isles of the Blessed cannot be extended to encompass entire continents. They are of only limited use as a basis of lasting happiness; we should certainly enjoy them, but we should not expect too much of them. Moreover, Epicurus was wary of overly large quantities. Things that are enjoyed in excess soon lose their value. Savoring a small piece of cheese slowly and thoroughly can provide more pleasure than a banquet. To enhance the joy of life in a lasting way, we should curb any childish craving for overindulgence. Regulating our needs in order to make pleasure last is possible only by employing reason to develop reliable and stable strategies that free us from dependence on quick fixes.

One such strategy is to hone the senses and to savor the many small moments in life just as fully as the big ones. Another is to reduce stress. It is not always possible to experience great pleasure, but one can try to reduce feelings of displeasure by keeping needless worrying about the future to a minimum, reining in one’s ambitions, and restricting one’s longings for money and
possessions
, all of which yield little joy and result in a harmful dependency: ‘Independence of external things, too, we regard as a great good … For we are convinced that those who need luxury least enjoy it most. Natural pleasures are easily gained; it is the useless ones which are costly.’ In Epicurus’ view, it is not possessions but social ties that create the most lasting happiness.

According to Epicurus’ own teachings, an ‘Epicurean’ is a well-adjusted person who draws happiness from the many small joys of life, conquers fears, and lives with others sociably and
compatibly. It was only his later antagonists, above all the Christians, who distorted the image of the godless Epicurus into a guru of vice and twisted his views beyond recognition. But from a psychological point of view, Epicurus was already far ahead of the teachings of Christianity, because he recognized the inseparable interplay of body and mind,
physis
and
psyche
, and placed it squarely in the center of his philosophy. His teachings have found renewed resonance in ‘positive psychology,’ a modern line of research primarily in the United States. Positive psychologists seek criteria that have to be fulfilled for people to be happy. And they design programs to train people to become happier, because happiness, according to both Epicurus and psychologists, can and must be produced actively; it does not arise on its own. An absence of pain, stress, and troubles is not enough to make us happy. So many people without major life crises are not happy at all and are bored to tears. In other words: happiness is lovely, but it takes work. Happiness researchers have outlined this work as a series of practical rules, which I’ll now list, somewhat tongue in cheek.

The first rule is: keep active! Our brains hunger for activity, and mental idleness puts us in a bad frame of mind. No sooner do we rest for even a day than neurons start dying off. Failing to engage your mind makes it atrophy, a process that generally goes hand in hand with feelings of lethargy and then depression. Our hormone balance suffers from a lack of dopamine. We don’t need to be active around the clock, but lazing about is not going to foster happiness. Sports are wonderful, because the mind rewards itself for successful physical efforts by forming new neurons. Interests also boost the joy of life. There is something to be said for routines, but they do not make us happy in the long run. Change of pace and scenery can be sources of happiness. Wittgenstein, who was wary of the quest for happiness, swore by the opposite maxim: ‘I don’t mind what I eat, so long as it is always the same thing.’ That is the surest path to unhappiness.

The second rule is: be sociable! Epicurus did not think much of people making spectacles of themselves, either in private or in
public. But he realized that there is no more lasting source of happiness than social ties. Friendship, a loving relationship, and family can create a framework in which we feel well cared for. Experiencing something together with a friend, lover, or child enhances our feeling of happiness. When men feel secure, they release oxytocin, and women release vasopressin, the ‘prairie vole hormones’ we discussed earlier. (See ‘“A Quite Normal
Improbability
,”’ p. 237.) Living in a social network ensures that you are not alone with your cares and worries. It is no wonder, then, that a good relationship and a corresponding frequency of sex are far more important in attaining happiness than money and possessions.

The third rule is: focus! Epicurus spent a good deal of time helping his disciples understand how to enjoy the here and now: the fragrance of flowers, the beauty of shapes, the flavor of a piece of cheese. Well-chosen and concentrated pleasures enhance the joy of life, and this is especially true of the pleasure we find in other people. The more deeply we become involved with another person, the more intense are our feelings and empathy. From a neuroscience perspective this means: savor your states of mind, at least those that lift your spirits. And when you engage in an activity, give it your all. People who think about getting fat while eating a good meal or who keep looking at their watches while having a nice conversation are depriving themselves of their experience. Giving an occasional thought to the future might be a good idea, but thinking about the future all the time robs you of the moment. As John Lennon put it, ‘Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.’

The fourth rule is: have realistic expectations! Happiness is a question of what you expect. People often make things too hard on themselves – or too easy. Either way, the result is discontent. Push yourself too hard and you suffer avoidable stress, but set the bar too low and you suffer a lack of dopamine, with listlessness and indifference sure to follow. And the ensuing lethargy may in turn lead you to shy away from challenges, which only perpetuates the problem.

The fifth rule is: think good thoughts! This may be the most important rule of all. Epicurus and positive psychology agree that happiness does not come about by chance but grows from the ‘right’ thoughts and feelings, namely, those that produce pleasure and avoid pain. A favorite psychological nugget is: ‘Act as though you’re happy, and you will be!’ Easier said than done. If things aren’t going well for me, I am not likely to summon the strength to feign a good mood. The Russian writer Fyodor Dostoyevsky, who had keen insights into the human psyche, once remarked on the subject of thinking good thoughts: ‘Everything’s good…. Everything. Man is unhappy because he doesn’t know he’s happy. It’s only that. That’s all, that’s all! If anyone finds out, he’ll become happy at once, that minute.’

The key point is that it is more or less up to me to judge the events in my life. Of course people may disagree as to how far this freedom can take me. When I pore over the book of my life, do I linger over the uplifting passages or the sad and boring ones? Some people are able to focus on the bright side of life, while others see nothing but gloom and doom. A possible route of access to the book of my life is to recognize the role of my mind in judging my feelings. Why do I dwell on the negative and become obsessed with it? I may not have much say over whether I perceive things in a negative or a positive light, but I surely have some degree of freedom in how I assess my feelings. This freedom can be trained. Sorting out and gaining perspective on one’s feelings while or just after experiencing them is a major challenge, but it can be done. (See ‘Do Be Do Be Do,’ p. 248.)

People often recommend jotting down negative feelings as they occur, thus allowing them to be examined by the cortex without delay and alleviated to some degree. Writing down a few counterarguments can’t hurt as well. Positive psychologists
encourage
us to keep a diary of happiness to learn how better to recall the good times. Another precept of happiness psychology is the saying: ‘Don’t take yourself too seriously; laugh at yourself.’ This, too, is easier said than done; first you have to know how. When I consider
this maxim, I can’t help thinking about my friend Lutz, who told me about a training course for managers in which the teacher encouraged the group to show more spontaneity, whereupon a Swiss participant whipped out his pen and noted carefully in his lined notebook: ‘Become more spontaneous!’ Learning to laugh at yourself is a worthy but challenging task, which goes along with high self-expectations. It is easier to learn to avoid sources of displeasure, such as comparisons, which invariably culminate in feelings of inferiority and make us think thoughts like these:
I don’t
look like that model in the magazine
(of course, neither does the model);
I earn less than some of my classmates; I’m not as witty as that
other guy; I’m not as happy as my brothers and sisters
. As long as you cling to beliefs like these, you won’t be happy.

A sixth point is not to take the quest for happiness too far. There is an art to taking unhappiness in stride. In most, if not all, cases, there is a silver lining in the cloud of unhappiness. Some people who suffer debilitating ailments report that they have been living life more fully since they became ill. Crises, struggles, and even tragedies can be constructive, leading to new beginnings; we often don’t realize the good that can come from them. Wrestling with what we cannot change is a common pursuit, although we are warned against doing so by psychologists promoting happiness.

The seventh and last point is to recognize the pleasure that work affords. It is closely linked to the first one, activity. Work is something that forces us to be active, and most people need this pressure to stay active enough. Work is the best therapy, and unemployment robs people of that therapy, which can result in a deficiency of dopamine and serotonin and a feeling of ineptitude and sluggishness. Sigmund Freud contended that happiness results from the ability to love and to work.

And there you have the seven rules. We can certainly quibble about some of the specifics, and about the feasibility of applying them in our everyday life. These rules are not all that simple to adhere to, and rattling off a list of them is not the solution. The most intriguing question – and the most neglected by popular
psychologists – is this: to what extent is it in my power to shape my actions? Positive psychology makes the most out of every neuroscientific finding that comes along, but the basic debate on the issue of ‘Can I will what I will?’ is generally skirted. What good are the cleverest maxims if I cannot implement them? Addressing this question could yield exciting results.