what I'm reading: reflections on emotions and moods from Joe Forgas

I read an interesting article by Greg Bearup in Good Weekend the other day, about psychologist Joe Forgas' studies on emotions and moods - which, it seems, are not the same thing at all.

Emotions are usually short-lived and intense, and we're usually aware of them. There are 6 basic human emotions: fear, anger, disgust, sadness, happiness and surprise (try fitting all your emotions into these 6 categories and it will twist your brain a little...). Emotions are the extreme peaks and troughs in our emotional landscape.

Moods, on the other hand, are less intense than emotions, and we're mostly unaware of them. They fluctuate many times during the day as we swap between happy and sad, positive and negative. Moods are the gentle undulations in our emotional landscape.

We live in a society that pursues happiness with dedication; but it seems that sadness (not depression, which is intense and long-lasting) can be good for you. When we're happy, we're more free-flowing and creative. When we're sad, we're more perceptive, our memories work better, and we think more clearly. We might also be more interesting:

Being a bit glum can make you a more interesting person. 'I think most people worth talking to are slightly depressed...It is part of the human condition. It may be that people who are a bit on the negative side see the world as it really is...It tends to be these people who see the world clearly.'

In a world filled with real sorrow, all this emotional navel-gazing seems more than a little self-indulgent. 'Just go and put on a sad movie and you'll be a more interesting person.' But at least it might make us less impatient with feeling sad.

The article was by Greg Bearup, the quote-within-a-quote by Joe Forgas.

ants on my pants

It's been an ants on the pants kind of week.

It was the last week of the school holidays, and I wanted to get ready for the year (weekly plan, budget plan, exercise plan, prayer plan, chores plan, menu plan) and spend some meaningful time with the kids (playing with lego, walking to the park, visiting the library).

But I've been sick most of the week, with one of those viruses that makes you achy, feverish, sore, irritable and exhausted. So I've been doing a lot of lying around and thinking about getting stuff done. I dragged myself through the household chores, completed 2 out of 6 plans, and listlessly built some lego with the kids, but that's about it.

I was going to take the kids to Eltham Park yesterday, an idyllic park with huge old trees, grassy hills perfect for running down, an over-flowing library, and a coffee shop with a view of trains running over an old wooden bridge. It was a glorious morning, with clear blue skies, warm sun, and a cool breeze, just right for a promised trip to the park.

But I felt too ill to walk up hills with 4 energetic children in tow. Instead I sat on the steps to our front porch while the older children played, Andrew (1) pressed against my leg. A brief excursion outside to feel the breeze on my skin, breathe fresh air into my lungs, and watch the neighbour's shrubs trace patterns against the sky.

Until I noticed that Andrew and I were sitting on a trail of ants and they were crawling all over our pants and his beloved yellow blanky.

Modern psychology at this point would tell me to replace negative, catastrophic, glass-half-empty thinking ("I always get sick! We never make it to the park! Something always goes wrong!") with realistic, resilient, glass-half-full thinking ("Sometimes I get sick, but usually I'm well. We can go to the park another day. Yes, I have ants on my pants, but I can move to another step and still enjoy the morning.") Which is helpful as far as it goes, and I did exactly that.

The Bible, on the other hand, would remind me to replace grumbling thoughts with thankful ones (1 Cor. 10:10; 1 Thess. 5:6-18).

So I also thanked God for the sun, for good health, for a giggling baby copying my every move, for the cool breeze, for a week with my children, and even for the ants. For my heavenly Father who "in all things ... works for the good of those who love him", the greater good of making me not necessarily more comfortable, but more like Christ (Rom. 8:28). A Father who counts the hairs on my head, notices the fall of every bird, keeps my body in sickness and health, and guides the path of every tiny ant.

Even ants on the pants can remind us to be thankful.

personality tests

Yes, I admit it, I'm a sucker for personality tests. I love the way you can spend 10 minutes absorbed in the fascinating topic of yourself, and at the end of it - for only $2.00, people! (actually, I'm too much of a skinflint, I stick to the free ones) - you receive a complete personality profile, tastefully presented with graphs, comparisons to your Facebook friends, and even suggestions for improvement ("perhaps if you opened yourself up to new experiences...")

This week, I've discovered that I'm an INFJ - thus gaining a defining sense of self in only 4 letters - on the impressively named Myers-Briggs Type Indicator. According to Wikipedia, which is, as we all know, the source of all truth, only 1.5% of the general population belong to my type - so I now know that I am rare and unusual (the thesaurus gives the synonym "wierd"). A website on the Kiersey types describes me as having "an unusually rich inner life" (ooh, I like that - great how you can pick and choose) and have an "intricately woven, mysterious" personality which will "sometimes puzzle even" me (yep, agree with that!)

I have discovered that INFJs love personality tests from the fact that I've already met two equally obsessed INFJ friends on Facebook. I now know why my best friends see me as an "extrovert", while a colleague described me (in print) as a "shy girl from Blackburn" (I've never quite forgiven him). I have also learned why I carefully write a pro and con list, then make a life-changing decision based purely on what "feels" right e.g. on whether I've eaten too much chocolate that day, yet another thing INFJs are apparently prone to.

So how much more do I really know about myself now that I've taken the test? Well, I've realised just how self-absorbed I can be, from the amount of websites I've looked at. And I've been reminded how well that little idol, that statue of myself, is firmly seated on the throne in my heart, from the way I am ceaselessly fascinated by my own personality. I have been reminded that I, like all of us, am "fearfully and wonderfully made" (Psalm 139:14).

In a sense, I've learned nothing that I didn't already know. I've been reminded that God has given me particular strengths so I can help others; that I have a propensity for certain weaknesses; and that I have put myself, not God, firmly at the centre of my life. In other words, I need God's grace as much as ever.