A few days ago I posted a blog (A Balancing Act) that referenced Dan Gilbert’s book Stumbling on Happiness. I mentioned one of the main points of the book – the idea that what we think will make us happy in the future rarely does as all the experiences we have between now and then change how we define happiness and shape what will make us happy. Anticipated happiness, therefore, is really a constantly moving target that we rarely hit.
Stumbling on Happiness is a great read with many new, interesting and humorously laid out ideas. Another one of my favorites is the concept of the nexting brain. This is the part of the brain that is always thinking about what’s happening next – a constant split in focus between the present moment and the moment to come.
Thanks to Mr. Darwin we all have nexting brains. Those happy-go-lucky, present-focused cave dwellers were blissfully extinguished from history while their more future thinking cousins explored the world around them, created fire and started anticipating what was coming down the pipe so that they wouldn’t be caught with their proverbial loincloths down.
As I mentioned in my previous post, Dan Gilbert’s ideas are a departure from the way you’re probably used to thinking – they definitely were for me. But I can’t argue his logic. Achieving those moments of flow, presence, balance – whatever you want to call them – is so difficult precisely because our brains just aren’t built that way.
One trip to Downward Dog Yoga studios on a Saturday morning will quickly demonstrate how much effort the Lululemon clad, Starbucks drinking set puts into retraining their brains to be more present and more in tune with their bodies.
And I think that’s great. Anything we can do to connect to each and every awe filled moment we experience is essential.
But it’s also equally critical we understand that for many solid evolutionarily based reasons our brains will rigorously resist these retraining exercises.
We need to anticipate the dangers coming into our lives. I’m just not sure that allowing our nexting brains full-time occupancy in the driver’s seat of our frontal lobes is ASimportant as it used to be. When’s the last time you were chased down the street by a hungry mammoth for instance? My guess is that it’s been a while. So I think it is safe for us to take the time to stop and smell the roses when we get the urge without too much danger.
I love the book and I love the ideas. What I’m taking from it – and I hope you do too – is that we shouldn’t next all over ourselves in trying to be more present. Instead we should understand that our big, powerful, nexting brains have not only kept us safe but have also brought us a long way from the cave. If we learn to view that part of ourselves as we would an overprotective yet loving grama maybe we can throw down a yoga mat for two and invite her along in our efforts to be present rather than continuing to wrestle with her during our fifth set of sun salutations?
Namaste.
Scott
