
I’m sure I’m not alone in finding the story of Michael Mosley’s disappearance, followed increasingly inevitably by the news of his death, still reverberating around my mind. Such a strange and random and distressing turn of events. Only a couple of months ago we (wife Helen and I) saw him on stage in Bournemouth. And now suddenly he’s gone.
We never met him, of course, but it came to feel like he was a friend, for years now a regular presence in our lives through his various radio shows, TV series, and books; always fun and engaging in his practical, hands-on approach to exploring ways to improve first your health and then, increasingly, your life, as both research and experiment repeatedly confirmed the close connection and inter-reliance between mental and physical health.
His influence is there every day in what we eat, how we exercise (that we exercise, even!), the routines we seek to practice – some more successfully than others 🙂. It was good to hear, in what turned out to be his last interview, that he struggled as much as anyone in keeping to his morning rituals. Also, as for the rest of us, that no matter how disciplined his practice, things like press ups and squats in the morning or ending your shower with full-on cold water, never become something you actually ‘enjoy’.
But they are satisfying – even if much of the satisfaction is rooted in vanity, in proving to yourself that you are the impressive, motivated toughie you’d like to think you are – and, more to the point, that you’d like your partner to think you are 🙂.
That sense of satisfaction (rather than enjoyment) is key, because (they argue) having a good life depends not focusing solely on pleasure, but on doing satisfying and meaningful activities. Your best life is not necessarily the happiest life.
Living a Good Life
Fortunately this last interview, with psychologist Paul Bloom on How To Live a Good Life, is every bit as inspiring, thought-provoking and warm-hearted as any programme he ever made and covers much classic Michael Mosley territory like the importance of variety, of trying new things, and of getting out of your comfort zone. In fact, the old comfort zone gets a good kicking from Professor Bloom ‘expert on pain, pleasure, and meaning in life’, who advises that to live a good life we should seek to ‘suffer’ more.
Not suffering as dealt out by the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, but ‘chosen suffering’, such as training for a marathon, cold water swimming, parenting (!), improving your tennis forehand, capturing the elusive play of light in your art… In other words, we should build into our life pursuits that are enjoyable, but difficult, challenging. Effort is often the secret sauce: the activity may not be fun, but it is rewarding.
Additionally:
Seek out contrasts. The brain is a difference engine; we respond to things not based on their absolute value but through comparison. A cold shower is not pleasure, but can be satisfying and meaningful. Spicy food can make your mouth burn, but this makes the accompanying cold beer all the more enjoyable.
Get out of your head. Do something where you’re not constantly thinking about your past, present and future, where you’re no longer hearing that nagging voice going round and round in your brain. Where, to borrow a phrase, you’re in flow state. Think sports, or playing (even listening intently to) music, or writing, or … whatever you love that can capture your whole attention, where you lose track of time.
Don’t pursue happiness. Happiness does not reward pursuit, or or constant questioning about whether you are in fact happy. Or not. Happiness is best as an accidental by-product of things you are doing. Pursue satisfaction, pursue making life more interesting.
And finally, if it has to be just one thing, Know yourself.
Morality, spirituality, pleasure, meaning… We are multi-faceted creatures, motivated by many, often conflicting, inclinations, aspirations, appetites, desires... So knowing yourself, understanding what really motivates and fulfils you, is a project for each of us. And an ongoing project, because we are ever changing. The oldest maxim of them all, still challenging us.
One suggested tactic (to know ourselves better) is to think of yourself in the third person and keep a diary or notes, in the third person, to uncover what you actually do, as opposed to the things you say you do, or would like to think you do. Or ask the people close to you; they can sometimes know you better than you know yourself.
Sometimes we can convince ourselves that we like something, say jazz, despite rarely making the choice to listen to it; because … well, why? Because we once loved jazz? Because we like the idea of being someone who likes jazz? Because …?
I’ll tell anyone I like jazz, but, when it comes down to it, I really only listen to a very small selection of albums – all too often the usual culprits such as Kind of Blue or The Koln Concert. Actually The Koln Concert was one of the most intense (and strange) introductions to a piece of music in my listening life. Way back, I was about to leave to stay with a relative in the suburbs of Paris; a friend suggested I get in touch with her sister, who had married a French doctor and lived in a neighbouring suburb.
Most people are more sensible and understand this is politeness and not a real invitation to crash in unexpectedly on some total stranger’s life. But that was then, and that was me, then, and crash in on the unsuspecting sister I did (though at least phoning first).
Having chores to do and lunch to prepare, the sister plonked me down in their sitting room and said “listen to this.” The first notes of the piano came out of the speakers and suddenly, from that moment, everything fell away. Nothing else existed but the music. I had never heard anything like it (well, after all, there isn’t anything like it). I was utterly entranced, and that recording has been a constant companion ever since. So, hey, I’m sticking with it; I’m a jazzer.
Thank you Michael. RIP.
And thank you, Dear Reader, for being here. This column will take a short summer break. Back soon.