The most detailed information about who we are as individuals comes from those we communicate with, and from the way we accomplish our jobs.
A true friend is someone we can occasionally be crazy with, someone who does not expect us to be always true to form. It is someone who shares our goal of self-realization, and therefore is willing to share the risks that any increase in complexity entails.
The “autotelic self” is one that easily translates potential threats into enjoyable challenges, and therefore maintains its inner harmony.
When all a person’s relevant skills are needed to cope with the challenges of a situation, that person’s attention is completely absorbed by the activity.
Of course we don’t have to undertake any of these plans. But if we don’t, chances are, sooner or later, we will regret it.
As a result, one of the most universal and distinctive features of optimal experience takes place: people become so involved in what they are doing that the activity becomes spontaneous, almost automatic; they stop being aware of themselves as separate from the actions they are performing.
Setting goals. Becoming immersed in the activity. Paying attention to what is happening. Learning to enjoy the immediate experience.
En nuestra vida podemos tener muy poca influencia sobre las fuerzas que interfieren en nuestro bienestar.
The function of consciousness is to represent information about what is happening outside and inside the organism in such a way that it can be evaluated and acted upon by the body.
Observing, recording, and preserving the memory of both the large and small events of life is one of the oldest and most satisfying ways to bring order to consciousness.
It is true that if one finds flow in work, and in relations with other people, one is well on the way toward improving the quality of life as a whole.
Information enters consciousness either because we intend to focus attention on it or as a result of attentional habits based on biological or social instructions.
These are the terms amateur and dilettante. Nowadays these labels are slightly derogatory. An amateur or a dilettante is someone not quite up to par, a person not to be taken very seriously, one whose performance falls short of professional standards. But originally, “amateur,” from the Latin verb amare, “to love,” referred to a person who loved what he was doing. Similarly a “dilettante,” from the Latin delectare, “to find delight in,” was someone who enjoyed a given activity.
A more substantive potential use of words to enhance our lives is the lost art of conversation.
There are no strict formulas, however, for how much time people actually have to work. It seems, for instance, that the early hunter-gatherers, like their present-day descendants living in the inhospitable deserts of Africa and Australia, spent only three to five hours each day on what we would call working – providing for food, shelter, clothing, and tools. They spent the rest of the day in conversation, resting, or dancing.
As long as we obey the socially conditioned stimulus-response patterns that exploit our biological inclinations, we are controlled from the outside.
When a person’s psychic energy coalesces into a life theme, consciousness achieves harmony.
Much of what we label juvenile delinquency – car theft, vandalism, rowdy behavior in general – is motivated by the same need to have flow experiences not available in ordinary life. As long as a significant segment of society has few opportunities to encounter meaningful challenges, and few chances to develop the skills necessary to benefit from them, we must expect that violence and crime will attract those who cannot find their way to more complex autotelic experiences.
Esta paradoja de las expectativas en alza sugiere que mejorar la calidad de vida es una tarea inacabable.
But if one assumes that people have a choice in how they respond to external events, in what meaning they attribute to suffering, then one can interpret the constructive response as normal and the neurotic one as a failure to rise to the challenge, as a breakdown in the ability to flow.