Doing What Feels Good

For the past few weeks, I’ve been working with a piece of advice from Martha Beck: “What leaves you feeling bad, do less of. What leaves you feeling good, do more of.”

This seemingly simple suggestion came from an article Martha wrote for Oprah Daily, “Five Pieces of Advice Everyone Ignores (but Shouldn’t!)” Making it clear that she’s referring to how something actually leaves us feeling, not how our minds imagine it will make us feel (like binging on junk food, drinking too much, or remaining in a highly dysfunctional relationship), Martha asserts that this one suggestion is “all you really need to find your destiny, form loving relationships, achieve optimal health, and have the best life story in the bingo parlor during your golden years.” 

A wise author, speaker, and life coach with a PhD in Sociology from Harvard, Martha shares that she’s constantly amazed by how many intelligent people pay her for advice that’s so obvious “even worms can follow it,” then fail to act on it time and time again. When worms are put in a simple T-shaped maze where there is food on the left and a mild electric shock on the right, Martha explains, they always develop “fervent leftist inclinations.” Humans, on the other hand, often repeatedly turn toward the very things that undermine their health and happiness, such as artery-clogging junk food, alcoholic lovers, soul-crushing jobs.

 

Martha Beck

 

Martha writes, “Worms have to experience a maze several times before they start making optimal decisions. Once the experience registers, however, they trust it. Not so with us. We overthink experience—and end up bedazzled by the same electricity that tasered our last relationship, or disdaining the simplicity of things that reliably nourish us.” 

After reading this, I began to contemplate if I demonstrate this type of self-sabotaging behavior. I quickly identified my persistent habit of rushing rather than moving through my days at a relaxed, enjoyable pace. 

To get better at choosing what makes us feel good, Martha instructs us to pause before proceeding to recall how that same action made us feel in the past. But when I tried this, I found that the gravitational pull of my entrenched habit was so strong, I couldn’t choose the equivalent of “food over electric shocks” by willpower alone. This made me ponder whether something deeper was at play.

Looking within, I immediately recognized the anxious, urgent energy that underlies my rushing as something that’s been with me for as long as I can remember. My mother—a Holocaust survivor with much unresolved trauma—embodies it. Throughout my life, I’ve watched her rush with an undercurrent of frenzied fear, as if she’s still in Auschwitz and a Nazi guard will beat her if she slows down even for a minute. For my mom, living is more about survival than doing what feels good. From the moment I was born, I was absorbing her energy and mimicking her behavior.

According to parenting expert Dr. Becky Kennedy, even before young children learn to speak, their bodies retain the experiences they have with their caregivers. Dr. Becky explains that memories from our early childhood are even more powerful than those we form later in life, because our earliest experiences determine how our brains are wired and form the blueprint we take with us into the world. 

 

Infant Myra with her mother and sister, 1964

 

Using techniques outlined by psychotherapist Andrea Watcher in “Healing Our Inner Wounds,” I was quickly able to locate the part of me that has been frozen in time for decades—a  petrified little girl desperately running around in confusion as she futilely tries to escape an undefined, overwhelming terror. As I’ve been regularly reaching out to this wounded part of myself with love, understanding and reassurance, slowly bringing her into the safety of the present moment, I’ve been finding the tight grip of my rushing pattern begin to ease. It’s as if I’m undergoing a much needed and long-awaited nervous system “software update.”

Now, for example, when I pick up my phone before leaving the house for an appointment, I can recall that the last time I did this I got sucked into reading my texts and had to rush to be on time.  Remembering to do more of what feels good, I’m able to resist looking at my phone, and instead head out the door at a leisurely pace.

Thanks to Martha, I’ve realized the importance of staying alert for persistent patterns that don’t make me feel good. They are likely a sign that something within me needs healing, and it’s time to stop and investigate. Implicit in this realization is a liberating and joyful orientation towards life—the belief that we deserve to feel good, and that it’s healthy and wise to choose happiness over suffering.

 
 

P.S. Just in case you’ve been wondering, here are numbers two to five on Martha’s list of her best (and most ignored) advice:

2. To achieve bigger goals, take smaller steps.

3. Lie down and rest for a while.

4. When you don’t know what to say, try the truth.

5. Free yourself from dysfunctional people by refusing to try to control them.