Being in the flow

[Guest guest]

I remember posting this statement once about my conversation with my

guru looooooooooong time ago. NM is me, GU is my Guru.

 

NM : During my earlier days in nursing, I have this tendency that

once I put on the nursing uniform, Nora ceases to exist. A new

identity is born. and I became a very different person. Do you

consider that as Bhootasuddhi? I am trying to connect this.

 

GU : That is not Bhootasuddhi. It is called Taadaatmya. Its being one

with the role you are playing.

 

NM : It is a wonderful feeling. I sense freedom. No boundaries. I am

not bounded with any religious or political affliations, but what I

represent : The Nurse.

 

GU : When you sit for Japa, you ARE Devi. It must become an enjoyable

experience.

 

I immediately remembered Csikszentmihalyi is a psychology professor

at the University of Chicago, who has been studying human enjoyment

since 1963. The question he asked himself before he embarked in this

research study was: What is fun? What makes some experiences

enjoyable, and other experiences not?

 

The following is taken from his book The Evolving Self, pages xii-

xiv, and is hopefully brief enough to be readable yet long enough to

explain the key idea. Csikszentmihalyi is describing some of the

painters he interviewed:

 

When a painting was beginning to get interesting they could not tear

themselves away from it; they forgot hunger, social obligations,

time, and fatigue so that they could keep moving it along. But this

fascination lasted only as long as a picture remained unfinished;

once it stopped changing and growing, the artist usually leaned it

against a wall and turned his or her attention to the next blank

canvas.

 

It seemed clear that what was so enthralling about painting was not

the anticipation of a beautiful picture, but the process of painting

itself. At first this seemed strange, because psychological theories

usually assume that we are motivated either by the need to eliminate

an unpleasant condition like hunger or fear, or by the expectation of

some future reward such as money, status, or prestige. The idea that

a person could work around the clock for days on end, for no better

reason than to keep on working, lacked credibility. But if one stops

to reflect, this behavior is not as unusual as it may seem at first.

Artists are not the only ones who spend time and effort on an

activity that has few rewards outside itself. In fact, everyone

devotes large chunks of time doing things that are inexplicable

unless we assume that the doing is enjoyed for its own sake. Children

spend much of their lives playing. Adults also play games like poker

or chess, participate in sports, grow gardens, learn to play the

guitar, read novels, go to parties, walk through woods--and do

thousands of other things--for no good reason except that the

activities are fun.

 

Of course, there is always the possibility that one will also get

rich and famous by doing these things. The artist may get a lucky

break and sell her canvas to a museum. The guitarist may learn to

play so well that someone will offer him a recording contract. We may

justify doing sports to stay healthy, and go to parties because of

possible business contacts or sexual adventures. External goals are

often present in the background, but they are seldom the main reason

why we engage in such activities. The main reason for playing the

guitar is that it is enjoyable, and so is talking with people at a

party. Not everyone likes to play the guitar or go to parties, but

those who spend time on them usually do so because the quality of

experience while involved in these activities is intrinsically

rewarding. In short, some things are just fun to do.

 

This conclusion, however, does not get us very far. The obvious

question is, Why are these things fun? Strangely enough, when we try

to answer that question, it turns out that contrary to what one would

have expected, the enormous variety of enjoyable activities share

some common characteristics. If a tennis player is asked how it feels

when a game is going well, she will describe a state of mind that is

very similar to the description a chess player will give of a good

tournament. So will be a description of how it feels to be absorbed

in painting, or playing a difficulat piece of music. Watching a good

play or reading a stimulating book also seems to produce the same

mental state. I called it " flow, " because this was a metaphor several

respondents gave for how it felt when their experience was most

enjoyable--it was like being carried away by a current, everything

moving smoothly without effort.

 

Contrary to expectation, " flow " usually happens not during relaxing

moments of leisure and entertainment, but rather when we are actively

involved in a difficult enterprise, in a task that stretches our

mental and physical abilities. Any activity can do it. Working on a

challenging job, riding the crest of a tremendous wave, and teaching

one's child the letters of the alphabet are the kinds of experiences

that focus our whole being in a harmonious rush of energy, and lift

us out of the anxieties and boredom that characterize so much of

everyday life.

 

It turns out that when challenges are high and personal skills are

used to the utmost, we experience this rare state of consciousness.

The first symptom of flow is a narrowing of attention on a clearly

defined goal. We feel involved, concentrated, absorbed. We know what

must be done, and we get immediate feedback as to how well we are

doing. The tennis player knows after each shot whether the ball

actually went where she wanted it to go; the pianist knows after each

stroke of the keyboard whether the notes sound like they should. Even

a usually boring job, once the challenges are brought into balance

with the person's skills and the goals are clarified, can begin to be

exciting and involving.

 

The depth of concentration required by the fine balance of challenges

and skills precludes worrying about temporarily irrelevant issues. We

forget ourselves and become lost in the activity. If the rock-climber

were to worry about his job or his love life as he is hanging by his

fingertips over the void, he would soon fall. The musician would hit

a wrong note, the chess player would lose the game.

 

The well-matched use of skills provides a sense of control over our

actions, yet because we are too busy to think of ourselves, it does

not matter whether we are in control or not, whether we are winning

or losing. Often we feel a sense of transcendence, as if the

boundaries of the self had been expanded. The sailor feels at one

with the wind, the boat, and the sea; the singer feels mysterious

sense of universal harmony. In those moments the awareness of time

disappears, and hours seem to flash by without our noticing.

 

This state of consciousness... comes as close as anything can to what

we call happiness.... That is flow.

 

When I read this description, I knew immediately what he was talking

about….

 

Nevertheless there's dangers because it too can stunt the development

of the self. One can get trap in this state of mind….. and can be

very difficult to move away from the flow unless you are strong

enough. As the saying goes to be able to go against the currents you

must be very strong, Thus support my assertions I made earlier :

when you are in the flow, you will not be able to see it. Only when

you have remove yourself from the environment and try to look at

yourself from the outside, only then you can see. This whole

experience of removing yourself and observing yourself can be a

frightening experience because it may change the whole perception

you have about yourself and your environment. That is why for some

they choose not to do it because change will bring about a whole lot

of other things they can never

handle.