Anticipay-ay-tion, it's keeping me waiting

I think bitter is too strong.

Remember how you felt when you were a kid?  When EVERYBODY was doing something you couldn't?  I feel left out.  Regretful.  Missing out.  But I'll get over it.  I have had zero success in predicting how I would feel about missing the gardening season.  About having unlimited time for knitting.  And about, theoretically, having lots of time to get my life (finally) organized.  I was thinking along similar lines when we were all talking about stash acquisition, and what holes it fills in our lives and our psyches.  I found some links that have all hung on the same mental hook for awhile.  Happiness seems  like a timely topic.  It's relevant to me, as I sit trying to get over my disappointment about not seeing bloggers, and fabulous yarn at MS&W.  And I'm sure it might apply to those who feel let-down despite seeing knitbloggers, and buying fabulous yarn.

The New York Times published "The Futile Pursuit of Happiness" in 2003.  Go over and read it.  I'll still be here when you come back.   It describes everything far better than I can.

Prediction of what will make us happy is unreliable:

"Gilbert and his collaborator Tim Wilson call the gap between what we predict and what we ultimately experience the ''impact bias'' -- ''impact'' meaning the errors we make in estimating both the intensity and duration of our emotions and ''bias'' our tendency to err. The phrase characterizes how we experience the dimming excitement over not just a BMW but also over any object or event that we presume will make us happy. Would a 20 percent raise or winning the lottery result in a contented life? You may predict it will, but almost surely it won't turn out that way. And a new plasma television? You may have high hopes, but the impact bias suggests that it will almost certainly be less cool, and in a shorter time, than you imagine. Worse, Gilbert has noted that these mistakes of expectation can lead directly to mistakes in choosing what we think will give us pleasure. He calls this 'miswanting.'  "

I've included a link to Dr. Daniel Gilbert's home page.  You can read the media's various dissections of what this Really Means.

I know that when I have an Amazon order in transit (like one that contains bookbookbook), and it takes FOREVER for it to arrive, I'm peeved.  Half an hour after I unpack the box, stack the books, and smile, I've moved on.  "What's next?"  "When is my Woodland Woolworks swift going to arrive?  What is TAKING it so long??"  Does this feel familiar?  Then it arrives, and I'm on to the next big thing.   I found a quote (probably an aphorism, actually), that summarized it well:

"Anticipation provides at least 50% of the pleasure of anything new."

Tomorrow, I think I can cast some light on the other side - what ARE the more real elements of happiness?  Hopefully, we are not left with just the dust of anticipation.  I'll find the links today, and we can continue these thoughts.  Make sure, while you are looking at Dr. Gilbert's page, that you check out  his frivolous links.  One of them fits perfectly into my habit of finding bizarre sites.  Ever want to know who is buried where?  Click through and look at another site developed by people with too much time on their hands.

In other (other?) knitting news. I'm finding that I was completely unsuccessful in predicting how happy the Alchemy Synchronicity was going to make me.  The yarn unravels as it is knit, and is a splitting nightmare.  The knit rows are easier than the purl rows, and I can't figure out why.  I've seen lots of knit-stuff on the web that trashes purling.  Y'know, knit in the round so you never have to purl.  (How could any knitter decide to hate 50% of the execution of their craft, and still call herself a knitter?)  I'm trying to figure out what is going on, and am making progress throughout the research:

And this is a picture of the flattening yarn losing not only its twist, but its integrity (NOW I'm bitter!):

It is a beautiful, cooler, more typical spring day today.  I'm going to see if the ground is firm enough for crutches, and see how all my growing friends are doing in the garden. 

Comments

[Margene]

This is one of my favorite 'zen' subjects. We make our own happiness. No one, no thing, can make you happy. It comes from within; it comes from acceptance of self. The way you react to a situation comes from you, not the fact that the book takes too long in coming, but from the anticipation of the wait. Anticipation is very 'unzen' as it is 'want', desire to control a situation that is beyond your control. Now if I could put this into practice I'd be a happier person.
As to purling...it's ALL knitting..part of the process. Love the yarn color!

[Lorette]

I love this post! I struggle with this issue, and I readily admit that it gets the best of me often. I like to think of it as the difference between "having what you want", and "wanting what you already have". Or, as frequently happens, "getting my wants and needs mixed up".

[Norma]

Absolutely! to what you wrote and Margene and Lorette. I've made a lot of progress, but am still working on this issue.

[Cassie]

There are plenty of people out there with tons of yarn and very little happiness.

[KarenK]

Very thoughtful and thought-provoking post. I need to work on becoming more aware of my impact bias and empathy gap, and on strengthening my psychological immune system. This subject would make a good book; I was surprised to see that Gilbert hasn't written one on the subject. Another interesting insight is in the book "Paradox of Choice," which says that the more choices we have (for ex., a yarn shop with shelves overflowing with beautiful yarn), the more difficult it is to make a choice, and the less satisfied we are with the choice that we do make.

[Sara]

What a fascinating article. I do believe the Lincoln quote, "Most people are about as happy as they make up their minds to be." I think it's really interesting that the researchers find themselves swept up in all the normal feelings, even though they know that the data says that it won't be nearly as important to their future happiness.

Hmmm. I want to print out the article and mull it over a bit more. Thanks for bringing up this great topic.

[Sharon]

There are those flash moments of pure happiness, a sense that all's right in the world, and life is a glorious thing. Then there's the deeper sense of contentment; yes, I always would like a little more this or a little more that. But essentially, it's no big deal, because I'm content where I am, with who I am, and the people I'm with. I know not everyone can say that. I haven't always been able to say it. And there are things that could interrupt my contentment and send me into a spiral of misery. So maybe part of the secret to happiness is just remembering to bask in the best parts of life while you wait for the less wonderful stuff to blow over. Didn't mean to get ponderous here; thanks Laurie, for a thought-provoking post.

[Birdsong]

I followed Margene's link and am glad to get a chance to comment on this neverending food for thought topic; I love the times when I can just stare at a tree or be lost in my knitting or out on the water in a kayak and forget about needing anything to "make" me happy. It is taking years to not be identifying my happiness with things and acquisition, but simply with being. Sometimes, when things get really grim, it feels impossible to see that the unhappiness will pass and the happiness return, but gradually I have built up faith in this fact. I told my (adult) daughter last week that I think it might be necessary to be sad sometimes in order to more fully appreciate being full of bliss.