When we swat a mosquito, we don’t necessarily have any hostility toward it or its actions; we are indifferent. We are merely getting rid of an annoyance. That may be our attitude toward a great many things in the world—we don’t give them much thought, and we don’t care that much, if at all. For us to care about something, it must have some kind of emotional connection to us. We must have a reason for feeling something, positive or negative, about it and how we interact with it. Sometimes our indifference is affected for a purpose, sometimes it is genuine. Sometimes indifference is intentional, while sometimes it is due to a lack of awareness. Sometimes we are aware, but there is no emotional connection—there is no common frame of reference that would make us care. We can know something or someone well but still be indifferent due to how little they are involved in our lives. And, in the same way that we should be aware of why we have strong emotions about something, we should be aware of when and why we don’t.
We all get intimidated from time to time, even the most confident among us. Sometimes we are intimidated for good reason, and the feelings of fear, anxiety, and apprehension are important survival tools. Other times, we are intimidated by bullies, and learning their psychology and motivations can help us to deal with those situations. But there are also times when we are intimidated by well-meaning people who, for some reason, scare us, make us nervous, or put us off our game. It is important to understand all of these sources of intimidation, where they come from, and why and how they affect us.
Each of us has a constant stream of emotions, but how many of us are aware of that stream and fully understand where our emotions come from and how they affect our lives?
It’s easier for more extreme emotions. We might get excited and happy before we’re about to travel. This kind of emotion bubbles up inside us, and our awareness of it is unavoidable. The same can be said for extremely negative emotions, for example when we suffer the loss of a loved one. In these times, we would do anything to escape the pain we are feeling. It overwhelms us, and we aren’t able to think about anything else. Our full awareness is caught up in our painful emotional stream. But what about times when we don’t feel overwhelming emotions? What about our day-to-day emotional context and how it affects our outlook and actions? It is possible to be fully aware of these emotions too. It’s not only possible; it’s a necessary step in living our lives to the fullest. Our emotional context is a driver for every decision we make, every word we speak, and every action we take. If we can become fully aware of this layer of our psyche, we can live our lives more intentionally and purposefully, and if we can take the next step and develop insights into our emotional stream—if we can see how our emotions are likely to evolve—we can live with a keen sense of identity and direction.
Poisons are the people, things, or situations you know are bad for you, yet they remain in your life. You likely have some poison in your life—everyone has. You may be one of the lucky ones who can recognize those situations right away and take decisive action. Or, like me, you rationalized, denied, or had an uncontrollable urge to keep them in your life. Most of these toxic elements in your life have their upside. They made you feel good in some way—at least in the short term, and that good must be intensely good because it is compelling you to live with the extreme negative aspects or consequences. The good part also may be a “potential good” or just imagined—a carrot just out of reach that never comes closer. The fundamental question is, why do you keep these poisons in your life? Why do you subject yourself to their ravages?
It all starts with something small.
Don’t use so much water when you do the dishes!
Now, I know how to do the dishes. I’ve been doing the dishes since I was seven (it was one of my childhood chores), but for the sake of argument, let’s say I’ve been doing them every other day since I was 21. That’s 6,387 times I’ve done the dishes (a conservative estimate, as I sometimes do them several times a day, or every day for stretches). I’ve never had a dishwasher. I know how I like to do them. Maybe I do run more water than some, but I also do them faster, as I’m not waiting for a trickle of water to clear off the soap. And if that’s my luxury in life, it’s really not too much to ask. There is no regional water shortage—in fact, it’s been raining like crazy. We’re paying extra for the water—estimated at an extra $6 per month—but it’s money I’m perfectly willing to spend to do the dishes my way.
If you’re of the crazy opinion that this is something fairly small to be testy about and I’m being defensive, then you’re right (it’s one of the very few things my wife and I “argue” about). But it does make me irritable. How does something so small turn into something that impacts my emotional state? Why can’t I just say “that’s the way I like to do the dishes” and be done with it? The answer is precisely because it’s so small—I don’t feel the need to have a big discussion over it, so I let it get to me. These small, inconsequential emotions become bigger emotions that impact my overall emotional state.