written by JOHN MARK MINES | HAPPINESS
Happiness, not in another place but this place,
Walt Whitman
not for another hour, but this hour.
Soul Mates
Years ago, one of my closest friends was struck with romantic anxiety. He wondered whether she was “the one.” Late into the night he pestered me with profound questions of love, certainty, and destiny. It was exhausting.
Finally, I’d suffered enough. “If you really have to ask,” I said, looking at him straight in the eyes, “she’s probably not it.” He decided to move on.
Some time later, I found out he was engaged to someone else. No late-night interrogations required. Initially, my ego was injured; how dare he forego my wise counsel? She must be the one, I thought, because this time he didn’t have to ask.
The Good Ol’ Days
Sometimes, life is a struggle. It can be paralyzing, dissociating, and frustrating. Other times, though, life feels the exact opposite. I call these times golden ages.
gold·en age /ˈɡōldən ˌāj/
noun: an idyllic, often imaginary past time of peace, prosperity, and happiness.
Golden ages are more than momentary glimpses of magic. They are enduring, definitive, and transformative. Golden ages have changed the course of history, using the power of synergy.
Take the Dutch Golden Age, for example. After declaring independence in 1581, the Netherlands was unincumbered by a traditional monarch. This power vacuum facilitated the birth of modern capitalism. The Dutch gave the world its first official stock market, multinational corporations, and central bank.
Business boomed from innovation. The Dutch were responsible for a quarter of all inventions, including the telescope, windmill, and the Dutch Fluyt, which was the first non-military transoceanic cargo ship. All of this led to the Dutch guilder being the world’s top reserve currency in the 17th and 18th centuries.
Like an enormous clock, golden ages only work when all the pieces work together in harmony. For the Dutch, political freedom enabled economic reform boosted by scientific discovery. The riches gained from global trade offered greater capital for scientific research and cultural achievements. Progress begets progress, like a perpetual motion machine.
Alas, golden ages are fragile. A single link can break the entire chain. Like a house of cards, collapse is inevitable sooner or later.
The All-Star Line Up
While I’m no civilization, there are two specific time periods which my personal historians might one day designate as golden ages. The first occurred during the last years of elementary school. As the years of my childhood faded, they went out with a bang.
This period was ethereal. My athletic achievements were triumphant; I won the golden boot in soccer and ran the fastest 400 meters. The Lord of the Rings, Star Wars prequels, and Harry Potter movies dominated the box office. Linkin Park and Good Charlotte awoke emotions hitherto unknown to me.
The video game that would spawn a lifetime love affair, StarCraft Brood War, was released. Life, as I knew it, would never be the same.
Thus began the era of the All-Star Lineup: the beloved block of Saturday morning cartoons that kicked off promptly at 8 a.m. Positioned between one screen playing StarCraft and the other playing cartoons, Heaven was a place on Earth.
And it called to me. Every week without fail, there I was, sitting in our garage-office ready to ascend. No alarm clock or wake-up call needed.
Which was miraculous. I’m not exactly what you would call a “morning person.” To this day, waking up is a bit of an existential crisis. But not on All-Star Line Up Saturdays. On those days, I couldn’t wake up fast enough.
For me, this is the practical definition of a personal golden age: wanting to wake up. During this period, I went to bed thinking: “This is my life, and I can’t wait to live it.”
Go With the Flow
I’m not the only one who has noticed these moments of exceptional experience. A similar concept, which has been far more researched than my childhood weekends, is called flow.
Psychology Professor Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi coined the term to describe “optimal experience.” Flow is characterized by high levels of engagement, focus, and productivity. Flow is autotelic, meaning it isn’t an end or a means; it’s both. Like intrinsic motivation, the experience is its own reward.
au·to·tel·ic /ˌôdōˈtelik,ˌädōˈtelik/
noun: having an end or purpose in itself.
The idea of flow was motivated by artists who’d get so engrossed in their work that they forwent basic biological function. Their perception of time became distorted, and reality outside their focus evaporated. They were “in the zone,” and “time flies when you’re having fun.”
Though flow requires intense engagement, it somehow feels effortless. Interviewees described it as feeling like floating or flowing like water, hence the name.
Csikszentmihalyi found this phenomenon everywhere: athletics, music, and even work. The experience of “a long-distance swimmer crossing the English Channel was almost identical to the way a chess player felt during a tournament.” The feeling was shared “regardless of culture, stage of modernization, social class, age, or gender.” Thankfully, optimal experience is accessible for all.
According to Csikszentmihalyi, flow occurs during the merging of action and awareness. This is what I experienced on Saturday mornings: total immersion. I wasn’t staring at the sky pondering the meaning of life. I was too busy living it.
This is why we don’t realize we’re in the “Good Ol’ Days” until they are gone. We’re too immersed to notice. Which makes perfect sense: rock stars don’t stop their melodies to ponder and reflect. To get the most out of the moment, don’t stop the music: just enjoy the flow.
Somewhere I Belong
Every magical moment in life is filled with immersion. Weddings, birthdays, and championships command attention. Blink, and you’ll miss it.
Other times, life ain’t so good. These are the times we want to fast forward, skip over, or forget. This brings us to the evil twin of the golden age: the dark age.
If golden ages are characterized by synergy, dark ages are characterized by disconnection. The key difference between the two, though, isn’t challenge or comfort: it’s influence.
Psychiatry researchers at Stony Brook University induced depression in laboratory rats through futility. Two groups of rats were subjected to electric shocks. The big difference was that one group could stop the shock with a lever, and the other could not.
This small change had a big impact. The rats with the lever experienced little change to their neurological functioning. The rats without the lever became depressed. They lost weight, couldn’t sleep, and suffered learning impairments. Futility induced depression through disconnection.
The opposite of flow is futility. Life is best when we feel engaged, influential, and immersed. Life is worst when we feel confused, detached, and stuck. Flow makes us feel like heroes; futility makes us feel like victims.
Critically, the electric shocks didn’t cause depression; futility did. Golden ages aren’t about disappearing problems, nor are they about complete control. Love doesn’t feel like being frozen in place; it feels like falling. It feels like flow.
To those of you wondering if you’re in a golden age, I’ll tell you what I told my friend: if you have to ask, this probably isn’t it.
