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Enjoyment and the Quality of Life

There are two strategies to improve the quality of life: to change our environment or to change our perspective. Neither of these strategies is effective when used alone.

Consider the goal of feeling a sense of security in one's home. There are many actions that can be taken to change our environment - moving to a safer neighborhood, installing locks and an alarm system, and so on. But ultimately, we recognize that they are not sufficient to make us perfectly safe, even if we build a fortress - so we must accept a level of safety that is "safe enough" and thereby change our perspective.

Particularly in western societies, where our survival needs are well fulfilled and we enjoy a level of luxury that is historically unprecedented, it is perspective that is the problem. The waiting rooms of psychiatric clinics are filled with rich and successful patients who somehow do not feel that all they have gained is quite enough.

Materialism is the attempt to obtain the symbols of happiness - we assume that if we can have what happy people have, we will be happy with it. And when we do obtain something, there is a brief sense of accomplishment, but it is short-lived.

The bottom line is that happiness does not come from what we have, but how we feel about ourselves: to improve life one must improve the quality of experience. The material trappings are irrelevant.

That is not to say that there is no connection between material wealth and happiness. Those who have sufficient resources to satisfy their basic needs and the means to overcome setbacks have less to worry about - but being protected against problems does not guarantee happiness.

And moreover, dreams of wealth are beyond the reach of most: very few people can manage to become billionaires, or be famous and powerful. It is far more feasible to find ways to make everyday life more harmonious and satisfying - and this is also far more effective.

Pleasure vs. Enjoyment

The concept of pleasure also derives from the expectation that we will find happiness in the things that others enjoy - which in the present day often means those things that advertisers suggest that others enjoy. A multitude of products are sold on the suggestion that possessing and consuming them will result in happiness, and this promise is seldom ever fulfilled.

Biologically, pleasure arises when information in consciousness indicates that our needs are being met. Food tastes better when we are hungry; rest is best after physical exertion. Food, drink, and other necessities are restorative to the body, and are thus most pleasant when they are most needed.

In effect, pleasure is about maintaining a desirable state - it is passive, can be achieved by consumption, and does not increase our abilities or facilitate mental growth.

Enjoyment is something entirely different: it is characterized by forward movement. We enjoy things that give us a sense of accomplishment: succeeding at a physical or mental challenge is different to being contented with the status quo, as it is about achievement. Enjoyment requires effort.

Enjoyable experiences are sometimes very unpleasant: running a marathon is grueling and closing a profitable business deal is tedious and nerve-wracking. But once we have completed the ordeal, we feel a sense of accomplishment. We recognize that we have done something significant, and feel that we have accomplished personal growth as a result. Success gives us the confidence to tackle other challenges.

There are experiences in which pleasure and enjoyment overlap: enjoying a gourmet meal requires a person to undertake the effort to attune their senses and powers of discernment. Anyone can enjoy the pleasure of food, but a gourmand truly enjoys it.

It is also for this reason that enjoyment is long-lasting whereas pleasure is evanescent. The pleasure of an experience ends when the activity itself is ended and it fades from our memory. The enjoyment of an experience has a longer lifespan: people remember, with fondness, the enjoyable experiences even of the distant past.

The degree to which enjoyment lasts is often culturally derived. In the west, we often lose our interest in things once we have gained a basic level of competence, whereas in the east people are more inclined to seek constant improvement.

Consider origami: an American may be pleased if he can learn to fold a piece of paper into the shape of a sparrow, whereas a Japanese enthusiast can spend decades doing the task, over and over, each time making subtle improvements, and remain deeply engrossed.

CS suggests that, without enjoyment, life can only be endured. It may be pleasant at times, but there is no lasting sense of contentment because pleasure is passive and external. To be happy on an ongoing basis, a person must have the sense of being in control and having the ability to influence events - he must earn his enjoyment, and feel himself capable of earning more.

The Elements of Enjoyment

MC speaks of several years of research that has been consolidated, which assembles a large amount of data from "several thousand" participants across various cultures and occupations.

This study found that a significant number of respondents defined and described enjoyment in much the same way, in both the terms of their sensation of enjoyment and the reasons enjoyment was felt.

In essence, all studies and participants defined seven major components of an enjoyable experience, which are described in detail hereafter.

A Challenging Activity that Requires Skills

The overwhelming proportion of enjoyable experiences involve a goal-directed activity that requires some level of skill to accomplish. This is most commonly associated to physical activities that result in the production of an object, but can also be seen in intellectual activities requiring mental skills.

For example, one of the most frequently mentioned enjoyable activities in the world is reading. Reading is considered an activity because it requires concentration and attention, and to do it successfully one must understand the rules of a written language: to translate words into concepts and understand the interconnection of ideas is a skill.

A second popular enjoyable activity is socializing, which is often considered a mindless activity - but as any shy or socially awkward person can attest, it's not something everyone can do, but requires interpersonal skills.

In that sense, activity is not about physical action, but in overcoming challenges that require skills to realize. For those who lack the appropriate skills, the activity is frustrating and meaningless - but for those who do have the appropriate skills, it is engaging.

Competition is also enjoyable, but in many instances it is merely a benchmark against which skill at an activity is tested. A team's skill on the field is measured against the skill of an opposing team (a football game), or a player's skill is measured against the skill of others players in an asynchronous manner (a discus throw).

Problem-solving is also a widely enjoyed skill, which is the basis of the widespread enjoyment of puzzles. In this form of enjoyment, nothing is produced and no opponent is outperformed, but the individual tests himself against a challenge and finds enjoyment in the process of discovery.

In that sense, appreciation is a kind of skill: whether it is appreciating wines or works of art, the person's ability to observe and discover are the source of his enjoyment.

He diverges a bit into the activities people use to occupy their minds or make boring situations more tolerable: most of these involve inventing a goal and the skills necessary to achieve it, which can be simple or highly complicated, depending on the amount of attention that can be devoted to them.

Returning to sports, competition shows the importance of challenge. To kick a ball down a field and into a net is a simple matter if no-one is trying to prevent you from doing it, and won't hold a person's interest for long. Add another player who is attempting to impede you, and the challenge becomes succeeding in spite of his interference. However, when opponents are poorly matched and one can easily defeat the other, it loses its ability to remain engaging.

He mentions observing "balancing" of skill to challenge in a dog he once owned: the animal would run rings around him, daring him to catch it. When he put effort into the game, the dog ran in wider circles in order to be difficult to catch, but as his energy wore down the dog would run in tighter circles to make himself easier to catch - in essence, the animal was balancing the challenge because the game was not enjoyable if it was easily won.

Merging Action and Awareness

To be enjoyable, an activity must be engaging: it cannot be done idly and without thought, but must require complete mental involvement such that the conscious mind is fully involved in the activity, without leftover capacity that allows other thoughts to creep into mind an interfere with the engagement.

What occurs in this instance is that the self merges with the activity, such that people are no longer aware of themselves as separate from the actions they are performing. Quotes are presented from a dancer, a rock climber, a teacher, and a chess player that all attest to a situation in which "You don't see yourself as separate from what you are doing."

This is in contrast to activities in which we are frustrated (we don't know what we are doing) or anxious (we know what can be done but aren't sure if it's the right thing). An engaged person knows what they are doing, knows it's the right thing to do, and are focused on the manner in which they are doing it.

Expertise is often expressed as the ability to act without thinking - but this is a misstatement. An expert is thinking, but at a level in which he is not aware that his mind is engaged: he is not figuring out what to do, but simply doing it without deliberation or hesitation. That doesn't mean he is not thinking, merely that his thinking is not interrupted or conflicted.

Clear Goals and Feedback

Clear goals and feedback are essential to having a flow experience. Hesitation and deliberation arise when a person does not understand what they are trying to achieve. Doubt and uncertainty arise when a person does not recognize that the actions they are taking are progressing toward a goal.

The goals must require a course of action: if your goal is simply to pick up a stone, your task is done within a few seconds and there is no opportunity to feel deeply engaged.

The action itself must be continuous rather than intermittent: if your goal is to raise a garden, there are many long stretches of time while waiting for there to be something to do except watch the plants grow. The overall experience is enjoyable, but does not constitute a constant state of deep engagement at all times.

He briefly mentions the value of long periods of boredom and inactivity. A sailor on a long-sea voyage is excited to see land, but it is after weeks or months of seeing nothing but water from horizon to horizon.

He mentions that "being healthy" is a difficult goal to remain engaged in - each day you are not sick, you have succeeded, but there is often no connection between the behaviors you undertake and the absence of sickness. Which is why most people's approach to health is really more one of achieving fitness - which enables them to witness progress rather than lack of disaster.

Another clever observation: a mountain climber's goal cannot be merely not to fall off the mountainside. The best way he can avoid doing so is to stay away from the mountain.

Goals generally involve knowledge in advance of what one wishes to achieve, though this is not strictly so:

Switch to feedback: it generally involves some sensory stimulus that indicates that an action is contributing to the achievement of a goal. Some activities require knowledge and experience even to know what sensory stimuli are meaningful. A psychiatrist treating a patient is listening for very specific things in the conversation - and a person who is not trained to recognize them merely hears someone complaining about superficial things and does not recognize the source of the dysfunction. A simpler example: the golfer knows that he hit the ball properly by the sound it makes and the feeling he gets through the handle of his club, even before he sees the ball land.

Feedback is enjoyable because it is gratifying. It reassures us that what we have just done is right. And the constant trickle of information that assures us "you just did the right thing" makes us feel competent and empowered, and eager to take the next step.

Concentration on the Task at Hand

One common element of flow experience is a sense of complete focus on the task at hand, without distractions from extraneous or irrelevant information.

Everyday existence involves a barrage of sensory input, and a great deal of mental energy is expended merely recognizing everything we sense and deciding whether it is worth paying attention to. Walking down the sidewalk, we are not consciously assessing whether each passing vehicle will leap onto the sidewalk and injure us - but we are unconsciously making these assessments so that, when one of a hundred seems to be acting strangely, it comes to our immediate attention.

So the "ordinary" state of mind, when we are not thinking about something, is not placid but constant distraction. If nothing is important than everything must be given some modicum of our attention.

But when we are engrossed in a task, we automatically ignore everything else - all the annoyances and distractions of the world seem to "go away." And this is sometimes to our detriment, when we are so engrossed in text messaging on a smart phone that we walk into traffic.

This is often the reason that flow activities are carried out in confined spaces, protected from distractions. A sporting activity is played on a field or a court, and everything outside that space is ignored. Reading is done in a place of isolation where the world can be safely ignored.

This ability to ignore all the distractions and unpleasantries of life is often what draws people to hobbies. Speaking of something they deeply enjoy, many people describe the sensation that everything else goes away. We enjoy playing tennis because all we are doing is playing tennis - any problems at the office or worries at home go away for a period of time and we are completely absorbed in the game.

The Paradox of Control

One of the connotations of a game is that it isn't serious - that it really doesn't matter if you win or lose, as there are no significant consequences either way. To lose a game of chess is momentarily disheartening, but to lose a business negotiation means the loss of revenue and perhaps the livelihoods of many people.

The lack of punishment for failure gives us the ability to focus on success, to experiment and try things that might lead to a better outcome than standard procedures.

There is always some element of danger: the mountain climber may fall, with disastrous consequences, and even a ballet dancer may break a heel. So even in non-serious situations there is some real risk, and risk is often part of the thrill of undertaking dangerous activities.

But in this sense, thrill-seeking is different to flow: it is about avoiding disaster rather than achieving a goal. There are momentary impulses of delight in experiencing and overcoming anxiety and fear, but there are no "flow" activities that are constantly focused on avoiding danger. Back to the rock climber, his focus is on finding his next handhold, and he is not constantly in a state of fear of falling - that only occurs when he does something particularly risky or "wrong" and at most times he is focused on achievement rather than danger.

CS suggests that when people enjoy is not being in control, but exercising control in difficult situations. Ironically, you must place yourself in a chaotic situation to have the sense that you are in control of certain things.

He pauses to consider games of chancel, like roulette, which are known to be entirely random chance and are not affected by personal skills. However, he acknowledges that even in these instances, those who most enjoy gambling may be aware of a rational level that it is random chance, but yet cling to an irrational sense of control - a belief that they can beat random chance. Roulette players, in particular, develop elaborate systems to predict the turn of the wheel based on specious or completely irrational reasoning.

The allure of having a confined space in which we have control is so strong that it has been considered by some to be an addiction. Consider the video game enthusiasts, whose immersion in the activity of the games they play cause them to neglect their relations with friends and family, lose their jobs, and damage their health. There are many instances in which infatuation with a hobby has caused such neglect and damage.

In some instances, an individual can become engrossed in his profession. This is common to see in people who make their work the center of their lives, neglecting everything outside the office because they have made work the most important thing in their lives. In truth, what they do is often not very important, but they will rationalize their compulsive behavior.

Loss of Self-Consciousness

It was mentioned earlier that the degree of focus on an activity allows a person to avoid being distracted by other things - thoughts or sensations - and focus entirely on the task at hand. This is largely the same, but it focuses on one distraction that merits special attention: our self.

People are constantly aware of themselves, and they are their greatest distraction. We are aware of our bodies, and we consider the way we must look to other people, and are constantly inhibited by the consciousness of self.

People who become engaged in flow activities will often become so immersed that they are unaware of pain. An athlete may finish out the game in spite of a physical injury that is constantly aggravated by the physical activity. A person may become so engrossed in reading a book that they do not realize that they are hungry. And person who is skiing becomes completely unaware of the cold.

He mentions group and team activities as ones in which people lose awareness of themselves as individuals. Rowing teams, for example, function as a system and often lose themselves in the activities. It's mentioned by a member of a Japanese motorcycle club that they "become one flesh" during a ride in formation with others. Surgeons remark that they sense the entire operating team as one organism with many hands.

Being focused entirely on our actions also distracts us from our appearance, which is a cause of significant concern. "Do I look funny?" or "Is there a smudge on my face?" are things we consider many times in the course of a day as we interact with others.

But in flow, there is no vanity: we don't care a moment about how we might appear to others. The runner does not care about others seeing him sweat, and the gardener is not concerned about having a smear of dirt on his cheek.

This does not mean there is no awareness of self at all. A violinist is acutely aware of the position of his fingers and the golfer is well aware of his stance and grip. However, posture and movements are taken for their effectiveness and efficiency at the task.

This loss of self-consciousness is a form of transcendence, overcoming the vulgar needs of the flesh and ascending to a higher level of consciousness, where we focus awareness on other things. It has a very strong appeal.

He mentions religion, which is often appealing for the ability to meld into a congregation and feel a sense of unity with a group rather than our own individuality. Very often, people who are highly enthusiastic about religion do not even know the basic tenets of the belief - they simply enjoy forgetting themselves and belonging to a group.

There is also the somewhat paradoxical suggestion that a person who loses themselves in a flow experience feels stronger as an individual after the experience has ended. In one way, it is merely a return to a familiar stimulus: when you leave a place for a while and return, you will notice the smell of it, to which you had previously been inured.

But a sense of self is also bolstered by the recognitions of the accomplishments of the group (a team did that, and I was part of the team) as well as the skills gained by the experience. So there is a sense of self-improvement that dawns on a person who had lost themselves in a crowd for a time.

Transformation of Time

Another common observation is that flow experience transform time: whether time seems to pass without being noticed, or whether they are transfixed in a moment, time no longer passes in its ordinary fashion.

The adage that "time flies when you're having fun" reflects the transformation of time in flow experiences - a person may be engaged deeply in an activity for several hours and feel as if only minutes had passed.

He does mention exceptions, which involve flow activities in which time is critical. A surgeon, for example, can often tell the time within half a minute during a surgery, because his work is planned in detail. Runners are also acutely aware of time, as they are constantly checking their speed by comparing distance to time. But even though they are aware of time, their perception is that it moves more quickly or slowly during their engagement.

The person in flow generally enjoys the engagement independent of time, and enjoys the experience of being liberated from "the tyranny of time." During his engagement, he does not sense long stretches of boredom or feel the need to hurry to be done with his task - things take as long as they take to do, and time is of no consequence.

The Autotelic Experience

The term autotelic derives from Greek, and literally means "self" plus "goal" - or in plainer terms, an activity that is an end in itself. And as a consequence, the activity is undertaken for its own sake.

Most of the activities we undertake in life are unengaging because they lack this quality: they are done in order to achieve something else, and as such there is satisfaction in the goal but no pleasure in the activity.

Consider that working an unpleasant job to make a lot of money is only pleasant on payday. Working an engaging job is something that a person will do even if it pays less than another thing he might be doing.

Much of this depends on a person's interests: two people may find the same activity interesting or noisome. A person may enjoy the experience of driving in heavy traffic, while another considers it a necessary evil that must be undertaken to get to his destination.

It's also mentioned that we are often compelled to do things that seem annoying, but during the process of doing them we find them to become autotelic. It is not uncommon for artists, musicians, athletes, and others to recount being forced by a parent to become involved in an activity they did not want to do - and for some, it took time to learn to enjoy it and, in time, become engrossed in it.

MC remarks there is a shortage of autotelic experience in the lives of many people. They regard their work as something they have to do to make money. And when they have leisure time, they don't know what to do, and fritter away the hours in consumptive activities that provide some pleasure but no engagement. As a result, they feel that they are never happy.

He also suggests that many of the ills of our society are caused by lack of flow. Unhealthy habits and addictions are undertaken by those who can find nothing productive to do with their time and so seek sensory indulgence. Crime itself becomes an attempt to find something worthwhile to do, though with an indifference to the harm it does to others.

This calls to mind that "flow" is not intrinsically good - it is a quality of experience that may be good or bad. One can find flow in building something or in tearing it down, in helping others or in harming them. The ability to be engaged in an activity is not a moral criterion - though it may sometimes seem so when a person's enjoyment of doing harm causes them to do it efficiently, effectively, and frequently.

The best for society is achieved when a person can find a task that achieves good things and give himself entirely to doing it. But the two are entirely separate matters.