I love your underlaying message but I want to add my thoughts on the see-saw analogy, as I understand the issue of negativity bias from a slightly different framework.
Firstly, I think your characterization of the survival brain is perfectly accurate. The challenge for all of us, then, is to recognize when the fear instinct which was designed to protect begins to sabotage.
I agree with your point to “savor positive moments.” In fact I would add an even more salient tip. Tara Brach speaks about recognizing a moment of beauty, pleasure, or wonder— then focusing on it for 15 seconds. The idea is that, in making this a habit, you actually rewire your patterns. The goal is to shift this savoring from a state into a trait.
Your point about intentionally doing activities that bring joy is an important one. But I would add that a shift in the external environment offers no benefit if it cannot shift the internal environment. In plain English, it is possible to go on that nature walk and not find recalibration. If you walk through beautiful forest but are captive to the loop of racing, fear-based thoughts, the moment of joy you seek from the present moment remains elusive.
Those are the positive weights. I differ more from you in respect to the negative weight. In my view, the attempt to push away the negative weight often has the undesired consequence of rooting it in place more firmly. You mention negative self-talk. This often comes in the form of hating what we feel. Our negativity bias often makes us afraid, reactive, small— and we continually try to banish those emotions by denying or condemning them.
The lesson of most eastern spiritual practice is to allow the negative emotion to be there and to investigate it with compassion. These are the two wings of awareness— to identify what is here, and to love what is here. A similar approach is found in modern therapeutic models such as internal family systems. Again, the idea is that telling the negativity bias to “move!” is not effective. It is more effective to ask “what do you want to tell me?” and “thank you for trying to protect me; but you can trust I’ve got this covered.” The result is not that the weight moves it’s position on the see-saw but rather that it becomes lighter. It loses its power.
Finally, I view the potential benefit of some drugs and pharmaceuticals not as the destruction of the see-saw, but as creating space for re-calibration. For example, a newer understanding of the mechanism of SSRI’s places less emphasis on neurotransmitters and more emphasis on opening up a window of plasticity.
In sum, my view is that negativity bias is not corrected by trying to exert control over the negative weights or about sabotaging the entire mechanism. It is about cultivating the conditions that allow the see-saw to re-balance itself. This re-calibration in my view requires compassion; it cannot take place when we are at war with the negativity bias.
Finally, I agree fully that we cannot outrun our brain by moving to a new country. As they say “where ever you go, there you are.”
I’m afraid I’m a bit late to the party in reading this, but perhaps that’s even better, because I just listened to a Choiceology podcast with Katy Milkman about hedonic editing, which spoke of the value in consciously aggregating negative events and segregating positive ones to maximize happiness. I think it fits the seesaw metaphor very well, because if you put a lot of small positive events on the seesaw, they naturally have to spread further out on one end and therefore have more effect.
Thanks for sharing your perspectives on the different methods of tackling this really tough bias. It’s an essay to return to as a mini-reference guide!
Thanks, Adam! I find Milkman's idea about segregating positive events interesting. I may go try to find that podcast. I can also recommend her book, "How to Change", which is a pretty good examination of the science of habit formation.
Human brains are hard-wired to look for the 'bad'. In olden days, if we weren't vigilant for danger, we would be eaten by a sabre-toothed tiger, so our default position was to be on high alert. Sadly our reptilian brains have not moved on from the Stone Age, and you could argue are therefore perfect for the Social Media Age.
Not much difference between a sabre-toothed tiger and an internet troll, right?
I've also chosen a new profession in later life where people come to see me because they are traumatised/anxious/depressed/suicidal, etc., etc., and as a therapist, I listen to a lot of very unhappy people. Sometimes it's hard to bracket that, and it can sit with me. And then I read uplifting Substack posts, watch the pigeons in my garden, and my old dog sleeping on the sofa, and I'm back in the positive here and now.
I am always insanely happy when my clients overcome issues through work on themselves and a shift occurs inside them. Except when I take this to supervision the feedback I get is that maybe they're just covering up the 'hurt' and hiding it from themselves, and I shouldn't be too happy.
Maybe supervisors have more of a negativity bias, who knows?
Sally, it sounds like you are becoming an expert in seesaw management. I can only imagine how trying it must be to have people bring their traumas and fears to you on a daily basis. Because if you're a good therapist, you will surely feel a certain empathy for them. How, then, do you avoid letting it drag you down?
I personally think your supervisors sound pretty jaded. Maybe they need to have for you a little bit more of the consideration that they presumably show their clients? I mean, a therapist who doesn't believe that real progress can be made sounds less functional than an invisible seesaw!
This was a great and thoughtful piece--Thank you Gregory! I love digging into the psychological angles of perception and living abroad. Pieces like this get at the question that might be the most important thing we ever ask: how do we live a better life?
I've been meditating for years now (just a few minutes a day), but the last few months health issues have sort of forced me to look more closely at my psychological state. I've dug into the mindfulness you mentioned (and sort of dismissed ;) ) at the beginning of your list of ways of "sabotaging" the seesaw.
There are two ways to look at this problem from a mindfulness perspective. The "pure" mindfulness that draws most directly on Buddhism would be this: to be blunt, the seesaw got you into this mess, how could it get you out? The way to sabotage the seesaw would be to stop imagining the seesaw into being at all. The way out of thinking too much about negativity is to stop thinking so much, and focus instead on feeling and experiencing.
And that gets to the more westernized, neuroscience influenced version of mindfulness (highly recommend Unwinding Anxiety by Judson A. Brewer for this). It doesn't focus so much on meditation and being "free" of worldly stuff. More on just focusing on the present. "When you feel bad, what do you feel in your body?" Getting curious about your own emotional and physical state, and observing how it changes instead of fixating on an abstract that really only gets worse. Basically, this focuses on exactly what you got into here: external stuff is going to ebb and flow, the trick is to train your brain to respond to negativity not by freaking out, dwelling on a problem, or sending you to various band-aids like a nice muffin or a long walk (which help for the moment, but don't address underlying problems), but by being kind to yourself.
And one last note: I love that we're having a conversation about this! A fundamental problem I've noticed as I dig through this world is that the things that work, REALLY work, often make people (including me) roll their eyes at first. Getting over that and being open is the most important step. Fundamentally, I think most approaches to sabotaging the seesaw actually can work (many paths, same destination): the trick for me has been to find one or two that work, get over myself enough to stop rolling my eyes and believe, and then just keep practicing, accepting the fact that this will never be perfect. I'll never be a Buddhist monk, I'll never always remember to respond to anxiety with mindfulness. But the aggregate effect can still be immensely valuable.
Rebecca, thank you for this wonderful contribution! I hope that people will read it as a part of the essay that I left out.
I didn't mean to be dismissive of mindfulness. I also meditate every day, and study Buddhist philosophy in a semi-committed Western kind of way. But I get the sense that mindfulness was sold so hard for so many years in the USA that most people have either adopted it or have gotten really tired of hearing about it. Maybe that's not fair, but that's the impression I have.
You are right in that the things that really work are often not the sort of things that we high-tech, high-stress Westerners would prefer ("Will an Apple Watch solve all my problems?"). In fact, sometimes they are indeed eye-rollingly simple. But this only makes sense—if humans have gotten this far over the past few millennia, it's not because they had Alexa or personal trainers. Sometimes we need to have a bit of humility and accept that there are ancient answers to current questions.
And yes, it's great that we are having this conversation. I secretly think that the question "How do we live a better life?" is the force driving my substack. I hope that that occasionally resonates with people. Thanks for contributing to the conversation!
Others may call me an optimist, but my anxiety tells me I also have a negativity bias.
My solution probably falls under moving the positive weights out: I intentionally create curiosity about my happiness.
I tend to see my unhappiness as more interesting—a problem to solve! And my happiness as a given. But when I focus my attention on what exactly makes me live up, I am intellectually stimulated and that truly helps.
Claire, I really like the idea of "intentionally creating curiosity about happiness"! Seeing happiness not as something we take for granted but as something wonderful and possibly uncommon, something to study, seems like a good way of moving the weights out.
Thank you, Karen. I will try not to take this to mean, “As a therapist, my favorite part was when you weren’t trying to act like an amateur therapist.” 😂
I've never been one to meditate, but I have used affirmations. I had to help at a tragic event years back, when someone died unexpectedly. I was designated to pick up others from the airport, a forty minute drive. I told myself positive statements about myself on the way, sometimes in another language if it was difficult (though my foreign language skills are basic). "Io sono bella." "I am intelligent." "I am curious." "I am receptive" (NOT open, no!). "J'ai forte." I came up with more, and repeated some, until I burst out laughing, then started over. I went to pick up a mom and her three year old, others telling me the child never let others hold him, clinging to his mom. I saw them by the curb, the child wrapped around his mom and pulled over, got out to help load baggage. The child saw me and lunged from his mom's arms, reaching for me. She looked shocked, saying he never did that! I held him while she loaded the baggage. Back at the house, the child followed me around, crawling into my lap constantly, his mom getting jealous. Affirmations work! I tell others to try, that no one else is around, it's only themselves listening. It's incredible how many are too embarrassed to tell themselves nice things about themselves. That's where saying them in another language helps - plus it can increase your knowledge of languages.
One more. On the door of my studio, so I read it every time I walk in, I have a phrase another artist told me: "the mind cannot critique and create at the same time." Sure I'm not going to like all my work, even some in process; that's okay. Focus on the create.
Again, yes! A wonderful read to start the day. Thank you again.
Thank you for this story, ND! I have always had mixed feelings about affirmations (“I am uncertain about affirmations!” 😅). Maybe I will try them more often. I LOVE the idea of using other languages so as to skirt around the automatic self-censorship that these normally trigger. Great idea!
What a delightful essay. I appreciate the interludes of humor. My husband went to a golf workshop that emphasized the importance of mindset to keeping cortisol levels down. The stress hormone interferes with your performance, plus, it’s a bummer. They told the story of Jack Nicklaus, speaking at an event. He said: “I have never three-putted, or missed from inside five feet, on the final hole of a tournament.” A guy in the audience shot back that he was watching a recent tournament and that Jack Nicklaus indeed missed a three-foot putt on the last hole. Nicklaus replied “Sir, you’re wrong. I have never three-putted, or missed from inside five feet, on the final hole of a tournament.” The audience member offered to send him a video tape. “No need to send me anything sir. I was there. I have never three-putted, or missed from inside five feet on the final green of a tournament.”
After the talk was over the audience member came up to Bob Rotella, a leading golf / sports psychologist and asked, “What’s wrong with Nicklaus? Why can’t he just admit it?” Rotella asked the man if he played golf and what his handicap was (16) and whether if he missed a short putt on the last hole of a tournament he would remember it and admit it (of course). Rotella then said to the man “So let me get this straight, you’re a sixteen handicapper, and Jack Nicklaus is the greatest golfer ever, and you want Jack to think like you?” The man had no answer. I love this as a great example of reframing.
Julie, what a great story! I'd say it actually illustrates reframing in two ways. First, there is Nicklaus' ability to "not see" his errors, thus knocking the weights off the seesaw. Second, there is the psychologist's reframing of the situation for the audience member. A hole in one!
Yes, certain music can help. Beethoven's 9th, the Christmas Oratory, even Verdi's Requiem. Another thing that can work for me is exposing myself to things that trick me into laughing. (Physical exercise reliably serves to worsen my mood, but I still wish I could dance.)
Linnéa, I love the fact that Verdi's Requiem can be a mood-lifter! That points to the distinction between cheerfulness and beauty, I think.
As for dancing, everyone can define it however they want, so I'd say that if you can move, you can dance. It doesn't have to be done in front of others. 🕺🏻
I have been musing a bit today (between reading C essays and grading exams – feel free to take this opportunity to feel pleased about your changed circumstances!) on different kinds of happiness. I listened to the Ingemisco from Verdi's requiem, a recording with Nicolai Gedda which just brings tears to my eyes, because it is sublimely beautiful and it makes me happy in the "lycklig" rather than the "glad" sense. A bit like watching the stars or hearing the birds sing in spring – that was there long before I was around and long after I am gone it will still be there (at least the stars will), and other people will watch or listen and be affected. Just like I am affected by music written almost exactly 100 years before my birth, sung by someone who is now gone. It puts things into perspective, in a way.
Apologies for waffling. I guess it's what too many exams do to you.
I love your underlaying message but I want to add my thoughts on the see-saw analogy, as I understand the issue of negativity bias from a slightly different framework.
Firstly, I think your characterization of the survival brain is perfectly accurate. The challenge for all of us, then, is to recognize when the fear instinct which was designed to protect begins to sabotage.
I agree with your point to “savor positive moments.” In fact I would add an even more salient tip. Tara Brach speaks about recognizing a moment of beauty, pleasure, or wonder— then focusing on it for 15 seconds. The idea is that, in making this a habit, you actually rewire your patterns. The goal is to shift this savoring from a state into a trait.
Your point about intentionally doing activities that bring joy is an important one. But I would add that a shift in the external environment offers no benefit if it cannot shift the internal environment. In plain English, it is possible to go on that nature walk and not find recalibration. If you walk through beautiful forest but are captive to the loop of racing, fear-based thoughts, the moment of joy you seek from the present moment remains elusive.
Those are the positive weights. I differ more from you in respect to the negative weight. In my view, the attempt to push away the negative weight often has the undesired consequence of rooting it in place more firmly. You mention negative self-talk. This often comes in the form of hating what we feel. Our negativity bias often makes us afraid, reactive, small— and we continually try to banish those emotions by denying or condemning them.
The lesson of most eastern spiritual practice is to allow the negative emotion to be there and to investigate it with compassion. These are the two wings of awareness— to identify what is here, and to love what is here. A similar approach is found in modern therapeutic models such as internal family systems. Again, the idea is that telling the negativity bias to “move!” is not effective. It is more effective to ask “what do you want to tell me?” and “thank you for trying to protect me; but you can trust I’ve got this covered.” The result is not that the weight moves it’s position on the see-saw but rather that it becomes lighter. It loses its power.
Finally, I view the potential benefit of some drugs and pharmaceuticals not as the destruction of the see-saw, but as creating space for re-calibration. For example, a newer understanding of the mechanism of SSRI’s places less emphasis on neurotransmitters and more emphasis on opening up a window of plasticity.
In sum, my view is that negativity bias is not corrected by trying to exert control over the negative weights or about sabotaging the entire mechanism. It is about cultivating the conditions that allow the see-saw to re-balance itself. This re-calibration in my view requires compassion; it cannot take place when we are at war with the negativity bias.
Finally, I agree fully that we cannot outrun our brain by moving to a new country. As they say “where ever you go, there you are.”
I’m afraid I’m a bit late to the party in reading this, but perhaps that’s even better, because I just listened to a Choiceology podcast with Katy Milkman about hedonic editing, which spoke of the value in consciously aggregating negative events and segregating positive ones to maximize happiness. I think it fits the seesaw metaphor very well, because if you put a lot of small positive events on the seesaw, they naturally have to spread further out on one end and therefore have more effect.
Thanks for sharing your perspectives on the different methods of tackling this really tough bias. It’s an essay to return to as a mini-reference guide!
Thanks, Adam! I find Milkman's idea about segregating positive events interesting. I may go try to find that podcast. I can also recommend her book, "How to Change", which is a pretty good examination of the science of habit formation.
Human brains are hard-wired to look for the 'bad'. In olden days, if we weren't vigilant for danger, we would be eaten by a sabre-toothed tiger, so our default position was to be on high alert. Sadly our reptilian brains have not moved on from the Stone Age, and you could argue are therefore perfect for the Social Media Age.
Not much difference between a sabre-toothed tiger and an internet troll, right?
I've also chosen a new profession in later life where people come to see me because they are traumatised/anxious/depressed/suicidal, etc., etc., and as a therapist, I listen to a lot of very unhappy people. Sometimes it's hard to bracket that, and it can sit with me. And then I read uplifting Substack posts, watch the pigeons in my garden, and my old dog sleeping on the sofa, and I'm back in the positive here and now.
I am always insanely happy when my clients overcome issues through work on themselves and a shift occurs inside them. Except when I take this to supervision the feedback I get is that maybe they're just covering up the 'hurt' and hiding it from themselves, and I shouldn't be too happy.
Maybe supervisors have more of a negativity bias, who knows?
I do love an invisible see-saw....
Sally, it sounds like you are becoming an expert in seesaw management. I can only imagine how trying it must be to have people bring their traumas and fears to you on a daily basis. Because if you're a good therapist, you will surely feel a certain empathy for them. How, then, do you avoid letting it drag you down?
I personally think your supervisors sound pretty jaded. Maybe they need to have for you a little bit more of the consideration that they presumably show their clients? I mean, a therapist who doesn't believe that real progress can be made sounds less functional than an invisible seesaw!
This was a great and thoughtful piece--Thank you Gregory! I love digging into the psychological angles of perception and living abroad. Pieces like this get at the question that might be the most important thing we ever ask: how do we live a better life?
I've been meditating for years now (just a few minutes a day), but the last few months health issues have sort of forced me to look more closely at my psychological state. I've dug into the mindfulness you mentioned (and sort of dismissed ;) ) at the beginning of your list of ways of "sabotaging" the seesaw.
There are two ways to look at this problem from a mindfulness perspective. The "pure" mindfulness that draws most directly on Buddhism would be this: to be blunt, the seesaw got you into this mess, how could it get you out? The way to sabotage the seesaw would be to stop imagining the seesaw into being at all. The way out of thinking too much about negativity is to stop thinking so much, and focus instead on feeling and experiencing.
And that gets to the more westernized, neuroscience influenced version of mindfulness (highly recommend Unwinding Anxiety by Judson A. Brewer for this). It doesn't focus so much on meditation and being "free" of worldly stuff. More on just focusing on the present. "When you feel bad, what do you feel in your body?" Getting curious about your own emotional and physical state, and observing how it changes instead of fixating on an abstract that really only gets worse. Basically, this focuses on exactly what you got into here: external stuff is going to ebb and flow, the trick is to train your brain to respond to negativity not by freaking out, dwelling on a problem, or sending you to various band-aids like a nice muffin or a long walk (which help for the moment, but don't address underlying problems), but by being kind to yourself.
And one last note: I love that we're having a conversation about this! A fundamental problem I've noticed as I dig through this world is that the things that work, REALLY work, often make people (including me) roll their eyes at first. Getting over that and being open is the most important step. Fundamentally, I think most approaches to sabotaging the seesaw actually can work (many paths, same destination): the trick for me has been to find one or two that work, get over myself enough to stop rolling my eyes and believe, and then just keep practicing, accepting the fact that this will never be perfect. I'll never be a Buddhist monk, I'll never always remember to respond to anxiety with mindfulness. But the aggregate effect can still be immensely valuable.
Rebecca, thank you for this wonderful contribution! I hope that people will read it as a part of the essay that I left out.
I didn't mean to be dismissive of mindfulness. I also meditate every day, and study Buddhist philosophy in a semi-committed Western kind of way. But I get the sense that mindfulness was sold so hard for so many years in the USA that most people have either adopted it or have gotten really tired of hearing about it. Maybe that's not fair, but that's the impression I have.
You are right in that the things that really work are often not the sort of things that we high-tech, high-stress Westerners would prefer ("Will an Apple Watch solve all my problems?"). In fact, sometimes they are indeed eye-rollingly simple. But this only makes sense—if humans have gotten this far over the past few millennia, it's not because they had Alexa or personal trainers. Sometimes we need to have a bit of humility and accept that there are ancient answers to current questions.
And yes, it's great that we are having this conversation. I secretly think that the question "How do we live a better life?" is the force driving my substack. I hope that that occasionally resonates with people. Thanks for contributing to the conversation!
Dang it, you’re such a good writer! How long did you work on this piece?
And thank you for sharing it with the world, or at least those who stumbled across your writing on Substack. 😁
Gosh, JJ, that's very nice of you! ☺️ I probably didn't work on it as long as you think. I'm happy to hear that you think it's worth sharing. 🙏
Huh, it’s even worse if you didn’t work on it very long (because you’re brilliant and you just whipped it out)! 😂🤣
Ooops, in that case I worked on it for a looong time! 😁
Perfect. Thank you.
Well, thank you, Angela!
Thank you for this piece. It hit the spot nicely this morning.
That’s nice to hear, James!
What an interesting way to look at this!
Others may call me an optimist, but my anxiety tells me I also have a negativity bias.
My solution probably falls under moving the positive weights out: I intentionally create curiosity about my happiness.
I tend to see my unhappiness as more interesting—a problem to solve! And my happiness as a given. But when I focus my attention on what exactly makes me live up, I am intellectually stimulated and that truly helps.
Claire, I really like the idea of "intentionally creating curiosity about happiness"! Seeing happiness not as something we take for granted but as something wonderful and possibly uncommon, something to study, seems like a good way of moving the weights out.
My favorite part of this is the existential crisis/conspiracy theory you created for yourself with the no-seesaw. Hilarious.
Hmm…say more…I wonder what it’s like for you to share that thought…let’s double click on that … 😜
Do you seriously say, "Let's double-click on that"??? Is that what therapy with Millennials is like?
Haha I’ve never actually said it in a session, though I deeply long to. I say it to my kid though. 😊
Is your kid like a real kid, or a replicant? 😉
Not sure sometimes! They all talk the same!
Thank you, Karen. I will try not to take this to mean, “As a therapist, my favorite part was when you weren’t trying to act like an amateur therapist.” 😂
Such a great post! Thank you.
I've never been one to meditate, but I have used affirmations. I had to help at a tragic event years back, when someone died unexpectedly. I was designated to pick up others from the airport, a forty minute drive. I told myself positive statements about myself on the way, sometimes in another language if it was difficult (though my foreign language skills are basic). "Io sono bella." "I am intelligent." "I am curious." "I am receptive" (NOT open, no!). "J'ai forte." I came up with more, and repeated some, until I burst out laughing, then started over. I went to pick up a mom and her three year old, others telling me the child never let others hold him, clinging to his mom. I saw them by the curb, the child wrapped around his mom and pulled over, got out to help load baggage. The child saw me and lunged from his mom's arms, reaching for me. She looked shocked, saying he never did that! I held him while she loaded the baggage. Back at the house, the child followed me around, crawling into my lap constantly, his mom getting jealous. Affirmations work! I tell others to try, that no one else is around, it's only themselves listening. It's incredible how many are too embarrassed to tell themselves nice things about themselves. That's where saying them in another language helps - plus it can increase your knowledge of languages.
One more. On the door of my studio, so I read it every time I walk in, I have a phrase another artist told me: "the mind cannot critique and create at the same time." Sure I'm not going to like all my work, even some in process; that's okay. Focus on the create.
Again, yes! A wonderful read to start the day. Thank you again.
Thank you for this story, ND! I have always had mixed feelings about affirmations (“I am uncertain about affirmations!” 😅). Maybe I will try them more often. I LOVE the idea of using other languages so as to skirt around the automatic self-censorship that these normally trigger. Great idea!
What a delightful essay. I appreciate the interludes of humor. My husband went to a golf workshop that emphasized the importance of mindset to keeping cortisol levels down. The stress hormone interferes with your performance, plus, it’s a bummer. They told the story of Jack Nicklaus, speaking at an event. He said: “I have never three-putted, or missed from inside five feet, on the final hole of a tournament.” A guy in the audience shot back that he was watching a recent tournament and that Jack Nicklaus indeed missed a three-foot putt on the last hole. Nicklaus replied “Sir, you’re wrong. I have never three-putted, or missed from inside five feet, on the final hole of a tournament.” The audience member offered to send him a video tape. “No need to send me anything sir. I was there. I have never three-putted, or missed from inside five feet on the final green of a tournament.”
After the talk was over the audience member came up to Bob Rotella, a leading golf / sports psychologist and asked, “What’s wrong with Nicklaus? Why can’t he just admit it?” Rotella asked the man if he played golf and what his handicap was (16) and whether if he missed a short putt on the last hole of a tournament he would remember it and admit it (of course). Rotella then said to the man “So let me get this straight, you’re a sixteen handicapper, and Jack Nicklaus is the greatest golfer ever, and you want Jack to think like you?” The man had no answer. I love this as a great example of reframing.
Julie, what a great story! I'd say it actually illustrates reframing in two ways. First, there is Nicklaus' ability to "not see" his errors, thus knocking the weights off the seesaw. Second, there is the psychologist's reframing of the situation for the audience member. A hole in one!
😂 great point!
Yes, certain music can help. Beethoven's 9th, the Christmas Oratory, even Verdi's Requiem. Another thing that can work for me is exposing myself to things that trick me into laughing. (Physical exercise reliably serves to worsen my mood, but I still wish I could dance.)
You can dance. It's just that you need to not care what others think when you do, focus on if you're having fun.
Please do me the courtesy of assuming that I know what I am talking about, since after all we don't know each other. Thank you! ☺️
Linnéa, I love the fact that Verdi's Requiem can be a mood-lifter! That points to the distinction between cheerfulness and beauty, I think.
As for dancing, everyone can define it however they want, so I'd say that if you can move, you can dance. It doesn't have to be done in front of others. 🕺🏻
I have been musing a bit today (between reading C essays and grading exams – feel free to take this opportunity to feel pleased about your changed circumstances!) on different kinds of happiness. I listened to the Ingemisco from Verdi's requiem, a recording with Nicolai Gedda which just brings tears to my eyes, because it is sublimely beautiful and it makes me happy in the "lycklig" rather than the "glad" sense. A bit like watching the stars or hearing the birds sing in spring – that was there long before I was around and long after I am gone it will still be there (at least the stars will), and other people will watch or listen and be affected. Just like I am affected by music written almost exactly 100 years before my birth, sung by someone who is now gone. It puts things into perspective, in a way.
Apologies for waffling. I guess it's what too many exams do to you.
That’s beautiful, Linnéa.