Joy Project: Transcendence

Hello! Before we jump into the next chapter of Joyful, I'll continue the theme of the last post by confessing a weird joyful surprise my husband and I share. I don't remember how it started, but we hide this novelty severed finger for each other to find. 

It might show up in a coat pocket or a drawer, usually some place we don't frequently check. I know, it's completely strange, but it cracks me up every time. 

So...

Moving on to the topic of transcendence. Definitions of the verb transcend include to surpass and to go beyond, but for many of us, it also means to rise above. Accordingly, Ingrid Fetell Lee poses the question, "Why is it that our emotions seem to lie along a vertical axis?" Joyous things feel light and uplifting, somber things feel heavy and low. 

The effect can be pronounced when we are physically raised off the ground, as in a treehouse or a skyscraper, but even just looking up can feel transcendent. Hot air balloons, bubbles, and clouds all have a visual lightness that results in a positive emotional payoff. 

Human beings enjoy looking up. So why don't we do it more often? Sadly, as Ingrid points out, we're often looking down at our phones--to the point that walking into obstacles while doing so has become commonplace. And most homes aren't exactly cathedral-like in their dimensions.

Though my house is a modest size, I am lucky to have a few big windows and a high ceiling on the main floor, which impart a feeling of lightness. But my writing space is in the basement, with no window nearby, and I certainly wouldn't mind bringing some transcendence to that area. 

Ingrid suggests low furniture, tall plants, vertical stripes, and long curtains to accentuate the height of a room. Maybe someday I will get creative like that. But for a quick fix, I did two things. I brought in a tall plant, which I conveniently had at my disposal, and swiveled one light fixture on my floor lamp so it points upward. These tweaks took about two minutes, and I'll let you know if they make a difference. 

I hope October is treating you well! See you next time!

 

Fingers crossed that my magic plant helps me
transcend mediocre writing!

It's Not All Phone and Games

I've always been a little smug about the fact that I'm not the kind of person who can sit around and play video games for an hour. But I apparently have become the kind of person who can sit around and play games for an hour on her phone--in twelve minute increments. I'm kidding myself with that work-around. The rules of time are pretty unambiguous: one hour = one hour, no matter how you spend it.

Angry birds or crushed candies aren't my thing. I'm all about the card games, of which there are more than enough in the app store to last a lifetime. Someone just keeps inventing different ways to play solitaire. (In an alternate reality, that would probably be my dream job.) I wonder if the folks at Microsoft, who introduced computer solitaire in 1990 as a fun way to teach people how to use a mouse, had any idea how insanely popular the game, and its many offspring, would become. 

This week, I said no to those nefarious time-wasters and their come-hither sound of shuffling decks, their daily challenges, their celebratory animations after a win. I said no to the quick card breaks between chores and tasks and errands. I said no to one more game before lights out. I said no, no, no.

And I discovered something better to fill that gap: pretty much anything. Leaf through a magazine, read a few pages of a book, strum the ukulele, wipe some crumbs off the kitchen counter. This year of Take It or Leave It--which I can't believe is rapidly drawing to a close--has really been all about managing habits. Trying to make good ones and break bad ones. In all honesty, a week isn't long enough to make or break a habit. But it is long enough to shine a light on it and do some evaluating.

Did I miss the card games? I did. And at the end of the week, when I deleted (most of) them, it felt a little weird. I'm not saying I'll never play another game of phone solitaire, so I suppose this week isn't a true Take It. But those games are going to be much fewer and farther between.

Now it's time for me to shuffle on out of here. Have a great week, and I'll see you next Wednesday!

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

Hamlet was talking about death, but thank goodness I'm referring to regular old garden-variety sleep. Catching some z's. Forty winks. Although the ideal amount of sleep varies from person to person, the general consensus is that regular, quality sleep is crucial for good health. Well-rested people get sick less often, think more clearly, and may manage their weight better.

Hmmm...if only there were a way to use technology to micromanage something we humans have been doing naturally for thousands of years...

Oh, yeah. There's an app for that. Actually, there are plenty of apps for that. It seems somewhat ironic that the same technology that robs us of sleep can allegedly help us improve it, but that's kind of how we do things these days.

This week, as you may have gathered, I experimented with a sleep-monitoring app. I don't have a fitness tracker right now, so my app was not connected to a wearable that could directly measure my nocturnal thrashings. It also did not record snoring, make me a cup of hot milk, or influence how often I dreamed about taking a test I hadn't studied for.

Instead, my phone sat on a spot higher than the edge of the mattress (thank you, bedside stack of books), where it sent out little sonar blips during the night that were somehow able to gauge the quality and quantity of my sleep. Yes, the same technology that maps the ocean floor can also apparently map the depths of a person's slumber. Who knew?

In the morning, the app generated a short report detailing sleep duration, time to fall asleep, light sleep, deep sleep, REM sleep, and wake time. That was all kind of interesting, but I'm not convinced it was accurate, especially when I got a message that "something" may have interfered with the app's function. Darn you, rogue pillow!

After a week, I can confidently say that a sleep tracking app is not for me at this point in my life. I don't need more reasons to mess with my phone, and, as it turns out, I am entirely capable of determining on my own whether I've had a good night or a bad night. This one is a Leave It, but you might have a different experience. Regardless, I wish you good sleep and sweet dreams!