Miranda Sparkle

In my eternal quest to understand the sources of happiness, I ran across an article about a fascinating study at Harvard University.  This study did not reveal the sources of happiness - it revealed the complexity and obscurity of human experience.  At one point, though, I read something which both rang true so loudly I could almost hear it, and which also absolutely amazed me that other people feel that way.  The author of the study, in giving a lectures, pointed out to his class that:  ". . . people tell psychologists they’d cross the street to avoid someone who had given them a compliment the previous day."

There have been many times when a relative stranger - a worker at the post office, a bus driver, a bank manager - has said something nice to me.  Not icky, over-the-line nice, just nice and friendly.  And I have not gone back to that post office, have not taken that bus again, have avoided that bank branch afterwards, feeling awkward and ill-at-ease about seeing the source of the compliment again.

Now, I don't react this way often anymore, but there is still a bank manager I find it difficult to look at directly, which I know is ridiculous.  (Reading that article, and writing this, I now resolve to look him in the eye and greet him with an appropriate level of friendliness and enthusiasm next time around, instead of avoiding his eyes and mumbling in response to his hellos.  For heaven's sake, how old am I?  Twelve???  Actually, in a lot of ways, more like 8 or 9, but that's another story.)  I believe it is because I have ceased to read anything in to the compliment, I have ceased to have any expectations of what it might mean, what might happen next;  I have taken it at face value, enjoyed the glow, and left it alone. 

It felt so liberating to discover that I wasn't the only one to feel awkwardness and unease about certain compliments, that this is a well-known phenomenon not restricted solely to nut cases, lifted that feeling of psychological abnormality that can be so oppressive.
The lecturer continued, and again, I understood some of my puzzling reactions to good things as not being bizarre and unique to me, but something others might experience as well.  He pointed out that "Positive emotions make us more vulnerable than negative ones. One reason is that they’re future-oriented. Fear and sadness have immediate payoffs—protecting us from attack or attracting resources at times of distress. Gratitude and joy, over time, will yield better health and deeper connections—but in the short term actually put us at risk. That’s because, while negative emotions tend to be insulating, positive emotions expose us to the common elements of rejection and heartbreak."

It isn't that I didn't understand some of the dynamics before - I had figured out the annoyingly unproductive way my brain sometimes works - but it is so freeing to read that other people - not necessarily raving lunatics and basket cases - have the same counter-intuitive reactions and problems, and to read an "expert's" dispassionate, rather validating analysis.