Don McMinn

I don’t want this post to be morbid but it starts out that way. The main theme is living life to its fullest, but first let’s talk about death.

Death is inevitable and unforeseeable. It can occur suddenly at any time, or it can approach slowly and predictably. 

As I get older (and particularly as I approach that ominous statistical factor—the average life-expectancy of a male living in America) I often think about final experiences, because for everything I do in life, there will be a last time I do it. There will be a final time that I eat dinner with my family, embrace Mary, sing For the Beauty of the Earth, see a sunset, visit London.

This thought doesn’t bother me; it doesn’t make me anxious or fearful. To the contrary, it’s beneficial because it reminds me to savor every moment of each day and to delight in experiences both great and small … to approach every experience as if it were my last time to do so.

For instance, the last time we visited Dubai I said to Mary, “This is probably the last time we’ll ever come to Dubai, so let’s enjoy it fully.” Though we go to London every year at Christmas, last year may have been our last. You get the point.

This exercise in crafting perspective requires negotiating the inevitability of death with the immeasurable joy of living.

To end this post, I’ll defer to poets.

Thoreau encouraged us to live fully in the moment when he wrote, “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived…I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life.” (from Walden)

Hermann Hesse wrote,

“Life passes like a flash of lightning
Whose blaze barely lasts long enough to see.
While the earth and the sky stand still forever
How swift changing time flies across man’s face.
O you who sit over your full cup and do not drink,
Tell me, for who are you still waiting?” (from Klingsor’s Last Summer)

You never know when you’re experiencing something for the last time so enjoy every moment of life.

 

Let’s start with an object lesson.

Hold an object in your hand—like a pencil, book, or napkin—extend your arm full-length, and drop the object on the floor. It’s a very visceral experience. 

Now metaphorically place in your hand something that you’re frustrated about but don’t have any control over, or something you’re needlessly upset about. Extend your arm full-length. Before you move a muscle, make a decision that when you release your grip…when you drop it…you’ll also release the troubling issue from your mind. You’ll no longer talk about it, worry about it, or replay the mental tapes associated with it. 

Now uncurl your fingers and drop it.

I know this sounds like a bunch of new-age, self-help, nonsense. But I have found it to be a helpful exercise to mentally and emotionally release something that has an inordinate and unhealthy hold on my mind.

Sometimes Mary and I use this exercise during a conversation to help each other deal with an issue one of us is stuck on. When she senses that I’m getting worked up over something that’s either unimportant or an issue that I have no control over, she’ll close her fist, extend her arm, and drop it. I immediately know what’s she’s suggesting.  

Sometimes I get unnecessarily torqued over insignificant issues.

Recently, I was bothered when my physician prescribed an antibiotic that no pharmacy in town had in stock. When I called his office he changed the prescription to a common, readily available medicine, but why didn’t he do that the first time? 

I lingered over that incident longer than necessary. When I told Mary what had happened, she gave me the sign, and I dropped it. 

Sometimes I get worked up about something that is out of my control or my ability to influence.

Political shenanigans come to mind. Most of us bemoan the state of affairs in our country (regardless of which side of the aisle you support) and while we do have the right to vote, much of what goes on in the short term is beyond our control. I often remind myself to drop the frustration I have relative to our politicians.

The beginning of Reinhold Niebuhr’s Serenity Prayer is good advice:

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference.

Now, reread and follow the advice of the paragraph above that begins with “Now metaphorically place into your hand…”  and see if it helps you release a troubling issue you’re wrestling with.

Anchoring (also called focalism) is a cognitive bias in which we become inordinately influenced by initial information (considered to be the “anchor”). Once we accept the anchor, all future judgments, decisions, negotiations, arguments, estimates, etc. are made in relation to the anchor. And we become reluctant to embrace information and facts that challenge the initial information. 

In short, we tend to rely too heavily on the first piece of information we’re given. It unduly influences our thinking.

For instance, anchoring is used by businesses and organizations to manipulate the perceived value of a product or service. The retail price of an item is listed (anchored) at $450, but it’s now on sale for $215. Naively, we may think the product is really worth $450 (though it may be worth only $50) so we believe the lower price must be a good value. To make matters worse, we may not even be interested in the item, but the “good deal” seems too good to pass up so we buy something we don’t need at an inflated price.

We can also become anchored to a plan of action, our first impression about an individual, a political persuasion, or the first comment we hear about a current event. 

Do not underestimate how gullible we humans are to this effect. In a study by Dan Ariely, an audience is first asked to write the last two digits of their social security number and consider whether they would pay this number of dollars for items whose value they did not know, such as wine, chocolate, and computer equipment. They were then asked to bid for these items. The audience members with higher two-digit numbers submitted bids that were between 60 percent and 120 percent higher than those with lower social security numbers. The number had become an anchor. When asked if they believed the number was informative of the value of the item, quite a few said yes. Even though everyone’s social security number is a random series of digits, those numbers had an effect on their decision-making. [My social security number ends with 00, so I probably would not have even bid.]

It’s very hard to totally avoid anchoring bias. Like all cognitive biases, it happens subconsciously, and it’s hard to identify, much less challenge subconscious thoughts. Here are some suggestions.

1. Be skeptical of first impressions. Challenge all thoughts and statements, but be particularly doubtful about first thoughts and statements. Develop counterarguments to primary thoughts.
2. When making a decision, always consider alternative options.
3. When making decisions as a group, designate someone to be the devil’s advocate—someone who will intentionally oppose and challenge the group’s ideas.

Recently, Mary and I visited in the home of a neighbor who lives two blocks away. It was the first time we had spent time with her. It was just a friendly get-to-know-you visit.

In our 40-minute conversation, she talked about 90% of the time and mostly about herself. Occasionally, I interrupted her to say something about us, but the conversation quickly resumed its singular focus. 

A few weeks later, I mentioned to our next-door neighbor that Mary and I had met and visited with the lady. Unprompted by me, he said, “She talks a lot. Really, too much.”  

Evidently, this lady (and it could just as well have been a man) has a persistent, probably lifelong, irritating habit of talking too much. Has anyone ever talked to her about this? She is now widowed but was married for 40 years. Did her husband ever push back on this? Perhaps he did but she didn’t listen, or she just didn’t think it was an important enough issue to change, or change proved to be too difficult.

Now, let me use this single incident to introduce a larger issue that affects all of us. (I’m not just picking on those who talk excessively). 

To one degree or another, we all lack self-awareness. One of the hardest things in life is to see ourselves as others see us. We’re unaware of our idiosyncrasies. People aren’t put off by our good ones (though they may be amused), but they’re repelled by our bad ones. 

Perhaps people are hesitant to be honest with us, or they’ve confronted us so many times, with no effect, that they’ve given up. It takes a brave and true friend to speak truth to us.

Here’s an exercise I recommend we all do. Approach two or three people who know you well and say, “Please do me a favor. After taking some time to think about it, share with me several areas of my life that need to change. I promise not to be defensive; I’ll just listen. I may ask a few questions because I want to fully understand what you’re saying, but I promise not to argue.”

Another practical application of this lesson is for us to develop the boldness and courage to confront people about their unproductive personal behaviors, particularly if they seem to be unaware of them.