Browse Category: The Mind

Stopping by Winter Woods

Photo by Blair Davis, 2017

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

–Robert Frost

I went to a holiday choir concert yesterday, and one of the pieces sung was “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” by Robert Frost. I hadn’t realized there was a melody someone had written for this classic poem. It was lovely and also melancholy.

In researching some of the possible symbolism of the poem, I found a lot of theories, many based in psychology and mythology. One was regarding what winter represents. It’s a time of year when the days are colder and shorter, and (at least in many places) trees and plants have shed their leaves and gone dormant until spring or have died. It is a time of year for reflection, hibernation, and quiet. It can be a lonely and sad time of year for many. As a psychologist, I know many people (both in my clientele and in my personal life) who experience seasonal depression linked to the lack of daylight and limitations on outdoor activity in the late fall and winter. Some also find the holidays challenging if they are from families that don’t get along or are distant, if they have lost people close to them, or for many other reasons.

Winter also has some more joyful or hopeful associations, such as the fun of playing in the snow as a child, the wonder of a quiet and sparkly night after the snow has fallen, and the magic of holiday celebrations when the holidays are pleasant and meaningful. Stepping back to view the cycles of the year in a more holistic way can remind us that everything is impermanent, and although winter can be seen as bringing death, it can also be seen as bringing the preparation for new life: Winter can represent the pregnant pause between harvest and a lush spring, when things are getting ready to germinate and creativity is brewing.

“The dark wood” often represents the unconscious in Jungian or Freudian psychology. When a story involves going into a dark wood, this often means that the protagonist must face a challenge or learn a lesson before they can re-emerge into the light of everyday life. Perhaps Frost’s hero is reflecting on his life and finding the meaning and motivation to face what he must before he is ready to move forward. The fact that the horse “must think it queer” may allude to the protagonist typically living a more pragmatic life, not pausing to introspect very often, but simply doing what he must and avoiding going deep into his emotional, spiritual, psychological life. If the horse represents work and duty, self-reflection may seem a luxury that cannot be entertained often.

A darker meaning to Frost’s poem is that the narrator is tired of living and is contemplating suicide–the dark and quiet woods may represent a fantasy of his going to sleep forever and leaving the struggles of his life behind. What keeps him going is the realization that he has obligations in his life that he must honor; the time for death is not now.

Examining these potential meanings of the poem made me think that it was not necessarily a sunny and joyous choice to include this as a song in a holiday concert. But on the other hand, the holidays can be a time to contemplate what is meaningful to us and to sit with our whole range of thoughts and feelings.

The Psychology of Spring

Spring is here. This is the first full East Coast spring I have experienced since I moved from Pennsylvania to California in 2005. As you may know if you know me or have followed by blog, after living in northern and central California for 17 years, I moved back to Pennsylvania in July 2022. It’s been a big adjustment in many ways, some of them difficult, but the spring has brought me a lot of happiness and hope, despite some tough personal and national events. The experience of the transition from winter to spring is something I had forgotten about. In the parts of California where I lived, it felt like perpetual spring–it rarely got below 50 during the day and was rarely above 75. There was often sunshine, and flowers bloomed everywhere. True, there was little rain, but in other ways, it was spring-like much of the time. I never took for granted the mild climate and natural beauty of California, but living there, I did lose touch with how wonderful the change from winter to spring can be.

Now that I am back in Pennsylvania and lived through winter, my least favorite season (although thankfully, it was not a very cold winter this year), I remember how amazing the spring feels. The shift from darker to lighter days, the soft rains, the sudden exuberance of forsythia bushes and daffodils and cherry blossoms, the golden-green haze of leaves starting to sprout on the trees–it’s so magical.

As a psychologist, I often work with people who get depressed in the winter. Even in California, the land of perpetual spring, a lot of the clients I treated would start to get more down when the time changed in fall and begin to feel better come March or April. There, it was mainly the daylight that played a role. But here, it’s not just the longer days that can give us a mood boost, it’s also the warmer weather and emergence of flowers and tree buds. I would not say I get depressed in winter, but I definitely feel lower, less energetic, and at times a little stir-crazy when it’s too dark or cold to enjoy the outdoors. Spring brings more comfort and safety to being outside after work hours. It allows for more enjoyment of getting out and about, being more active. The switch from the browns and grays of winter to the brighter colors of the season stimulates the eyes and the emotions.

Spring is a season of rebirth (especially here in the northeast and other places with four distinct seasons), with the plants coming back to life after the dormancy and death of winter. Many animals give birth. People begin planting flower gardens and getting ready to plant vegetables that will grow throughout the spring and summer. Throughout written history, humans have seen this time of year as one that brings feelings of hope. Christians observe Easter as the celebration of new life and resurrection. Jews celebrate Passover, which acknowledges liberation from oppression. Muslims participate in Ramadan, which calls for self-reflection and sacrifice, then Eid al-Fitr, which celebrates gratitude and blessings. There is an element of starting anew in all of these religious holidays.

It’s harder to feel hopeful at the moment with many of the things happening in the United States and the world. It’s painful to see more and more gun violence, more crime, and the erosion of rights for LGBTQ people. It’s difficult to be mired in this era of division and polarization. The past month has also brought some losses to me, friends and family, and therapy clients. But seeing the renewal of spring reminds me that change can happen, growth can happen, and life does go on.

Spring makes it easier for me to engage in one of my favorite self-care activities: walking and hiking in nature. I plan to make the most of the mild days and sunshine, as well as my boost in energy and mood. It’s easier to face the pain and challenges of life when the sun is out and the flowers are blooming.

Sound and Emotion: Memories of my Mom

A week or two ago, one of my therapy clients was talking about regrets related to her late mother, which of course stirred up memories and feelings for me about my mom, who died from complications of cancer in 2020. After that therapy session and a few other coincidental things that were bringing up grief for me, I suddenly realized that I may have old voicemails from my mother in my phone. I am not sure what prevented me from realizing that prior to recently, but I immediately started searching in my phone, and sure enough, there were a few messages from her in my “Deleted Messages” folder.

Because I hadn’t realized the voicemails were still there (I regularly delete messages and didn’t know they were still stored in “Deleted Messages”), I hadn’t heard them since my mother left them in 2018, 2019, and 2020. I listened to a couple and was flooded by sadness, grief, and longing to talk to my mom again. One message in particular, from New Year’s Eve 2019, was so painful to hear, as in it my mom said “2020 sounds pretty good.” She had said similar things a few times around the end of 2019 and the beginning of 2020, as the prior year had been challenging due to her declining health, contentious U.S. politics, and other things, and she was optimistic that 2020 would be better. Little did she know that 2020 would bring the COVID pandemic and her further decline and death from multiple myeloma. It was one of the worst years ever for our family.

My mother, Penny Davis, at the bed and breakfast where she and my father spent every New Year’s Eve. This was taken on December 31, 2019, my mother’s last New Year’s. It was also the day she left me a voicemail expressing her optimism for 2020.

I often think of my mother and wish I could call her, but hearing her voice in those messages was so powerful. It took me right back to the moments when she left the voicemails, bringing up memories of small day-to-day things and “bigger” events, both good and bad. It got me thinking about how profoundly sound can trigger emotions.

A Little Science

There are a few reasons auditory stimuli are emotionally evocative. One is that the human brainstem is hardwired to respond to certain sounds for survival reasons–think of the jolt of fear you get when you hear a crash in the middle of the night that wakes you from a sound sleep. So, sounds can trigger fear, anger, love, and other strong feelings that can help us react.

Another reason is that we have “mirror neurons,” brain cells that are activated both when we perform a task (e.g., talking about something personal while tearing up) and when we observe someone else performing the same task (e.g., seeing someone else cry while telling us something). Mirror neurons allow us to feel emotionally connected to others.

Additionally, the ways in which our brain stores memories create this strong connection between sound and feeling. We are conditioned to associate certain sounds with certain times in our lives. Also, one type of memory called “episodic memory,” which has to do with long-term memories about specific experiences we’ve had, is often vivid and emotional, allowing us to re-experience things we’ve done. The hippocampus, a part of the brain, is involved in storing, processing, and retrieving long-term factual and spatial memories, and it is also a part of the limbic system, which controls our emotions and our fight-flight-freeze reactions.

Reflecting on Sound and Grief

It’s so interesting–and sometimes very difficult–how sounds and other stimuli can trigger strong feelings and grief. Anyone who has lost a loved one knows that a seemingly innocuous or trivial activity, like watching a rerun of a TV show that has nothing overtly to do with the person we’ve lost, can cause us to be flooded with emotion: We suddenly remember watching the show with our lost loved one, or someone in the show is wearing a sweater that reminds us of the person. Given that unrelated stimuli can bring strong feelings, I guess it should be no surprise that hearing my mother’s voice and particularly listening to messages she left in the last 8 months of her life would stir up a ton.

So, I’m sitting tenderly with my emotions and memories and have tried to give myself time to listen to the messages again when I was feeling more prepared. Be kind and gentle with yourself if you are also experiencing grief and missing someone close to you. My heart is with you if you are holding grief, too.

The Psychology of Giving

This holiday season, I have been thinking about giving–giving of time, love, money, and gifts. At Christmas, I like to shop for gifts for friends and relatives. It’s fun to pick things out that I think others might like. My holiday present-buying this year got me to thinking about why giving can feel good from a psychological perspective.

What does the research say? One finding is that giving stimulates the brain’s pleasure circuits, releasing the same endorphins as during exercise, eating, sex, and getting a massage! Due to some of these physical effects, giving can even be good for your health, as the endorphins related to pleasurable acts like giving can lower blood pressure and reduce stress. Giving can also strengthen our connection to others, which is good for our mental, emotional, and physical health.

Gift-giving (especially at Christmas) is not always all good, however. Sometimes, people go overboard with the quantity or value of the gifts they give, which can make others feel guilty or conflicted and can stimulate feelings of obligation or competition to give similarly extravagant gifts. When people focus on spending and shopping rather than other forms of connection or more meaningful aspects of the holidays, this can also undermine good feelings and be detrimental to mental health.

Gift-giving can also cause issues in parenting–when parents give their children too much, it may prevent kids from working or saving to buy things on their own. Overly generous giving to children can also make it harder for them to learn the value of things. Kids who are given everything they want may not appreciate things as much as those who have to budget and work for special items. And, from a social perspective, people who give their kids or other family members and loved ones extravagant presents may make others who can’t afford to spend feel lacking or even ashamed or resentful.

Like a lot of things, gift-giving needs to be in balance with other priorities and ways of showing caring to the people in our lives. What has been your favorite way to give to others?

The Psychology of East Coast vs. West Coast

As my readers know, I am originally from the East Coast but was living on the West Coast for the past 17 years. I returned to the East Coast this summer to be closer to family, and although it’s my home, it is taking some getting used to. It’s been a big readjustment going from California to Pennsylvania, and not only because any big change is hard–there are some real cultural differences between the West and East coasts. On top of that, there are major differences in geography and weather, but this post is more about the psychology of the people and how they differ. (Note that in this post, when I say “East Coast,” I really mean the northeast, as I feel that the southeast has a very different culture than the Mid-Atlantic and New England regions.)

Stereotypes

Most folks would agree that people on the two coasts have different general styles, personalities, and temperaments. Of course, every region, state, and city is diverse–all people in one location are not the same–but that said, there are trends. Movies, TV, and other media are full of stereotypical depictions of the laid-back California surfer or hippie versus the Type A New Yorker, patrician Main Line heir, or uptight New Englander. And just spending time in California, Oregon, and Washington State and then hanging on the East Coast (particularly the Mid-Atlantic and New England regions) will give most people a real-life experience of the differences in overall culture.

I wanted to do a little reading, though, to see if there is some science to support the stereotypes. After all, not all stereotypes are accurate. In fact, most are not completely accurate, or we wouldn’t call them stereotypes. So, I did a little Googling (looking for reliable sources, of course, not just opinion pieces) and found an interesting study.

Different Regions of the USA Have Different Personality Types

A 2013 study mapped clusters of personality traits in the United States and found that there were marked regional differences. The authors, Rentfrow and colleagues, were most interested in whether geographic personality trends were a factor in other trends, such as economics, politics, and health.

Personality Dimensions

Rentfrow et al. studied the “Big Five” dimensions of personality: extraversion, agreeableness, openness, conscientiousness, and neuroticism. The five basic personality traits is a theory developed in 1949 by D. W. Fiske and later expanded on by other researchers. When we examine these traits, we are looking at a spectrum of low to high; in other words, we can measure whether a person has a lot of the elements of the trait, just a few of them, or is somewhere in the middle.

Openness includes having a lot of imagination and insight. Highly open people are eager to learn and experience new things. They are creative and able to think more abstractly. People lower in openness are more traditional, less creative, more rigid, and less comfortable with new things and situations.

Conscientiousness is defined as being thoughtful and goal-directed, with high impulse control. People who are highly conscientious are structured and organized, good planners, and able to analyze their own behaviors and their impact. Those lower on this scale dislike structures and schedules and are more likely to procrastinate and fail to follow through on tasks.

Extraversion refers to being energized by socializing with other people and includes talkativeness, assertiveness, and high amounts of emotional expressiveness. People who are lower on the spectrum of this trait are typically called introverts.

Agreeableness includes having higher degrees of trust, altruism, kindness, and affection. Highly agreeable people tend to be more cooperative and more inclined to do things that help others. On the opposite end of this spectrum are people with a pattern of disagreeableness: manipulation, lack of caring, low empathy, and competitiveness.

Neuroticism is defined as having higher degrees of sadness, anxiety, moodiness, and emotional instability. This includes a tendency to worry, overthink, and have trouble relaxing. The opposite of neuroticism is emotional resilience and stability, with a greater ability to relax and cope with stress.

Regional Profiles

In Rentfrow and colleagues’ study, distinct psychological and personality profiles emerged that coincided with different parts of the United States. The authors defined three main “clusters”: “Friendly and Conventional,” “Relaxed and Creative,” and “Temperamental and Uninhibited.” These traits were correlated with political affiliation.

Maps of regional personality clusters. The
colored areas are hotspots for different traits. From Rentfrow et al., 2013.

As you can see in the diagram, the study showed clear differences in personality types between the West Coast and the northeast. The West Coast, labeled “Relaxed and Creative,” has a psychological profile marked by low Extraversion and Agreeableness, very low Neuroticism, and very high
Openness. There are disproportionate numbers of people of color, people with higher education, wealthy people, and folks who are economically innovative in this region. Acceptance of cultural diversity and alternative lifestyles is high, and the politics are more liberal.

Looking at the northeast personality cluster, “Temperamental and Uninhibited,” we find people who have traits of low Extraversion, very low Agreeableness and Conscientiousness, very high Neuroticism, and moderately high Openness. This configuration of qualities is found in reserved, aloof, impulsive, irritable, and inquisitive people–sounds a lot like Philadelphia and New York City! There are disproportionate numbers of older adults and women in this region, in addition to affluent and college-educated individuals. The politics tend to be liberal.

So, although there are some areas of overlap (people on both coasts are more reserved and open than those in the Mid-West, and people on both coasts are more creative), there are clear differences as well. For instance, West Coasters tend to be more innovative, empathetic, cooperative, and relaxed than their East Coast counterparts, who are more competitive, less empathetic, more organized and structured, and more anxious.

As this post is about differences between the East and West coasts, I’m not really too concerned with the Mid-West. But in the interest of being thorough, I will share what the study showed about region, labeled the “Friendly and Conventional” cluster. People here have moderately high levels of Extraversion, Agreeableness, and Conscientiousness, moderately low Neuroticism, and very low Openness. This group of traits is present in people who are sociable, considerate, dutiful, and traditional, with conservative politics.

Summing It Up

I found this study really interesting, as it puts more data and detail to the stereotypes. Did anything in this article surprise you?

What a Local Snake Taught Me

Garter snake in Manayunk, Philadelphia, PA. Photo by Blair Davis.

I have never loved snakes. I know I’m not alone in that, as many people fear or dislike snakes. I think there is an instinctual reaction that people (and other animals) have to snakes, since some snakes are venomous–it’s a good survival tactic to be cautious around them (although most snakes are not interested in attacking or biting, they just defend themselves if cornered). I also imagine that the Christian connection between the serpent and Satan has created a lot of cultural fear around snakes.

Although I used to be afraid of them, my perspective on snakes has changed over time. I now have more curiosity than fear when I see a snake. I still feel a little discomfort around them, but I also sort of like seeing them–as long as I don’t accidentally step on or touch one! And I am not sure I’d want to hold one.

For some reason, I’ve been thinking a lot about snakes lately. I think one reason may be that some people I know made some social media posts of photos of snakes they saw. Or, maybe it’s just because I am still transitioning from California back to Pennsylvania and thus have been thinking of the different flora and fauna here, including some native snake species like copperheads. So, it was both a surprise and not so much of a surprise when I saw a snake a few days ago.

It was a garter snake–harmless–but still a little shocking, as I encountered it in a residential neighborhood of Philadelphia near me called Manayunk. That area is hilly and has some staircases to get from one street to another in the steeper part of the neighborhood, similar to San Francisco, and I came across the snake on one set of steps. I was startled by it, not expecting to see a snake there. I had been keeping my eyes open for snakes when I was in parks or on trails, where it seemed more likely that snakes would be found. I didn’t think I would see one just slithering about in Manayunk.

After seeing the snake and taking a couple photos of it, I told a friend. He asked me what snakes represent spiritually, so I had to look it up. According to SpiritAnimal.info, snakes represent healing and transformation, often being connected to life force and spiritual energy. It seems fitting that I’d come face to face with a harbinger of transformation and change (and hopefully positive healing and growth) as I continue to adjust to my new life back on the East Coast.

Snakes may also represent unconscious drives and primal instincts: When we see or dream about a snake, we are encouraged to look within and also to pay attention to where we get energy and how we use it. Although I didn’t dream up this particular snake, the fact that I had been “looking for” snakes and paying enough attention to find one (and in an unexpected place!) makes me think that these are messages and questions that I need to ponder right now. I’m not sure yet what they mean, but I will be reflecting on them as I continue to build my new East Coast routines, re-connect with the people I love here, and get to know myself in this new/old context.

How Do Our Brains Interpret Photos?

Reflections in the Pacific Ocean at the Fitzgerald Marine Reserve in Moss Beach, CA, January 2022.
Photo by Blair Davis.

As you may know if you know me IRL or follow my social media posts, I love photographs. I love taking them. I love looking at them. I love editing them. I love posting them. Today, in thinking about some photos I recently took and in looking at a book on Polaroid photography I just bought, I was wondering about the neuropsychology of photos: What happens in our brain when we look at pictures, and how does this impact how we feel and think about them?

According to a blog post by Scientific American, people all over the world, regardless of cultural differences on how they see the world, experience a similar neuropsychological process when viewing scenes, and when looking at photos. The brain has different areas for visual processing: At the middle of the back of the head is the most primitive visual processing center, which identifies simple forms like lines and the vertical, horizontal, and diagonal edges of contrasting shapes. Other brain regions put together the basic visual forms and also process motion and color. The brain’s orienting network selects important, behaviorally relevant information from all that we see, hear, and touch. This helps us to pay attention to some sights (and other stimuli) while ignoring or paying less attention to others (to adaptively see what may be important to our survival and well-being and to avoid sensory overload).

So, our brains are wired to pay more attention to some visual stimuli. Science tells us that we are visually drawn to scenes with dense lines; busy, criss-crossing lines; and bold, bright, or contrasting colors. From an aesthetic perspective, we often enjoy images containing symmetry, as well as those with a triangular composition of lines and elements. This is one reason why some photographs appear “good,” and others don’t. There are other reasons, of course. But there are certain patterns and colors that are more pleasing to the eye, and this is largely based on neuroscience.

Few would argue that Ansel Adams’ photos are considered beautiful! “The Tetons and the Snake River,” 1942. Notice the flowing triangular composition in this shot.

On the most basic level, photography is a way to document a sight. But many amateur and most professional photographers hope to capture more than simple documentation: Many wish to create something beautiful, memorable, or thought provoking. From an artistic standpoint, how “good” a picture is depends on factors such as technical perfection (e.g., color, sharpness, exposure), composition (e.g., pleasing layout, adheres to conventional rules of composition), and impact (e.g., novelty, beauty, shock value). The emotional and psychological impact of a photo may come from the subject but can also come from our brain’s reaction to beauty (or to horror, pathos, etc.).

A stylized and orderly portrait of a factory worker meant to convey the power and dignity of the working person. Photo, “Power House Mechanic,” by Lewis Hine, 1920.

I could go on about this topic, but several others have “said it better” than I feel I could, so I refer you to several blog posts by photographer and neuropsychologist Adam Brocket: “The Neuroscience Behind Vision, Photography, and Cameras” and “How Photography Impacts the Psychology of Attention and Visual Processing.” I will also include some famous and beautiful photos for your viewing enjoyment. You’re welcome!

This famous photo, “Migrant Mother,” by Dorothea Lange in 1936, is a good example of how a skilled photographer can capture beauty in a scene that is meant to call attention to a social problem (in this case, the poverty of migrants during the Great Depression).
An image with ghostly beauty: Imogen Cunningham’s “Forrest in France,” 1960, Fenimore Art Museum Archive.
Probably the most famous National Geographic photo of all time, and with good reason. Steve McCurry’s “Afghan Girl,” 1984.

The Psychology of Our Favorite Songs

Still from “The Killing Moon” video, Echo and the Bunnymen, 1984.

Today, one of my favorite songs, “The Killing Moon” by Echo and the Bunnymen, was playing on Spotify. Something about that song just feels so right. It hits me in a way that is hard to describe–it makes me feel both relaxed and stimulated all at once. Noticing the feeling that this song, plus other songs I love, gives me made me wonder about the psychology of our favorite songs: Why do we love the songs we do?

Lucky for me, researchers of the University of Michigan researched why we can listen to our favorite songs over and over without getting bored. The researchers had 204 participants fill out a questionnaire about their experience with favorite songs. About 86% of people studied reported listening to their favorite song daily or several times a week. 43% of those who listened to it each day said they played it at least three times a day, and 60% listened to the song several times in a row. Interestingly, when people said that the song generated mixed emotions, “a bittersweet feeling,” they played the song more.

Image by Vu Huang.

These psychologists explained that we listen to certain songs repeatedly because they activate the reward system in our brain, releasing dopamine and generating a kind of addictive process. Since certain songs make us feel good, we want to listen to them again and again. In a different study at McGill University, researchers found that when we know a song very well, an intense discharge of dopamine occurs in our brain when we anticipate certain parts of the song. And, a study conducted at the Wake Forest School of Medicine showed that our brain reacts as a whole to a favorite song; this does not happen when we listen to music we do not like. Well-loved songs make our brain light up all over, showing greater connectivity. An area that is particularly active when we listen to our fave tunes is the precuneus, an area of ​​the upper parietal lobe that is related to episodic memory, visuospatial processing, reflections on oneself, and self-consciousness.

I find all this so interesting. It just goes to show that favorite songs stimulate a very different brain process than other tunes. But, whether or not you care about why this happens, I’m sure you’ll agree that the feeling we get from our best-loved music is pretty cool.

References

Conrad, F., et al. (2018). Extreme re-listening: Songs people love . . . and continue to love. Psychology of Music. 

Delgado, J. Why do we listen repeatedly to our favorite songs? Accessed at https://psychology-spot.com/favorite-song-favorite-music/ on December 12, 2021.

Salimpoor, V. N., et al. (2011). Anatomically distinct dopamine release during anticipating and experience of peak emotion to music. Nature Neuroscience, 14, 257–262.

Wilkins, R. W. et. Al. (2014) Network Science and the Effects of Music Preference on Functional Brain Connectivity: From Beethoven to Eminem. Scientific Reports, 4, 6130.

The Psychology of Social Media

social media logos

I’ve noticed an interesting phenomenon related to social media: People make assumptions about others based on their posts. Nothing surprising about that, and I am certainly not the first or only person to make this observation. After all, social media is a way to share with others in a public way. So, it makes sense that we look at what others are posting and make assumptions. And, this phenomenon has been widely studied.

Why am I writing about this, you might ask? One reason is that as a psychologist providing mental health services to college students, I frequently hear about how making assumptions about social media can be damaging. The main reason is because of a psychological concept called social comparison theory. This theory posits that people constantly evaluate themselves and others in areas such as success, attractiveness, wealth, and intelligence. They typically make these evaluations about themselves by looking at others and what they perceive about them. People see others’ photos (which are often altered) and feel less attractive than that person. Folks read others’ posts about going to exclusive events, buying homes, going on vacations, their kids winning awards, getting promotions, and feel inadequate in comparison. And studies show that the more one uses social media, the more likely they are to feel down about themselves.

It’s important to remember that while there is some truth to what you are reading or seeing (hopefully, unless all your social media friends are pathological liars), it’s a carefully chosen and curated truth. And, as noted earlier, it may be a heavily edited and beautified truth. Your friend may not have teeth that straight and white, skin that clear, a waistline that slim but just appears so due to the magic of phone filters and PhotoShop. And while it’s true that your friend probably did go on that tropical vacation or get that promotion, they also had days when they felt sad, lonely, inadequate … days when they fought with their partner, the kid had a tantrum, they couldn’t pay all the bills, they sat on the couch consuming a whole bag of potato chips and feeling crappy about their life. Most people are not posting about all the bad stuff.

Well, some people do post about the bad days, pet peeves, and struggles. And some do not. This brings me to the second reason I was thinking about social comparison theory and social media: Sometimes my social media friends make comments on my posts such as “Wow, you look like you’re doing great!” or “Glad to see how happy you are!!” I always have mixed feelings about comments such as these. On the one hand, I chose to post a photo of myself on a beautiful hike or at a gathering of smiling friends. I chose to highlight something interesting, fun, or happy that I did. So, why should anyone assume I’m not loving life? I guess the other side of the coin is that even though I often choose not to post about my struggles, I’ve had many, especially in the past few years, and it’s hard when others assume I haven’t.

So, when you’re scrolling the ‘Gram or looking at Facebook and starting to feel like your life sucks compared with your friends’ lives (or even worse, you’re comparing yourself to celebs and influencers), just remember that you’re only seeing part of the story. We all have our joys and struggles–even celebrities! It’s best to try to get away from comparing yourself to others, especially if you come up short. Unless it’s a way to help yourself grow and move forward, of course. A little comparison, with some honest and constructive self-reflection, can be helpful. But only to a point. Be kind to yourself! And consider cutting back on your social media time if it’s contributing to feeling down on yourself.

And remember that your friends are having good and bad days, too. They may be posting about all of it, or they may be choosing to only show the highlights. So, don’t assume. And be kind in the assumptions you make about your friends–you may not know about all the struggles that are going un-posted.

The Pain and Pleasure of Remembering

Every so often (more now that I am getting older), I feel a twinge of …. something … when I think of the past. Maybe it’s when I’m thinking of an old flame, remembering an experience from childhood, or reminiscing about a carefree moment in my 20s: Along with the memory comes a feeling that is akin to emotional pain. Yet, it’s not altogether unpleasant–there is happiness mixed with the sadness. This is nostalgia.

My dad and me, 1968.

What Is Nostalgia?

According to Wikipedia, the word nostalgia comes from a Greek compound of nóstos (homecoming) and álgos (pain or ache) and was coined by a 17th-century medical student to describe a psychological disorder displayed by Swiss mercenaries at war away from home. At that time, nostalgia was considered a serious and even possibly fatal (due to suicide) form of extreme homesickness. It was seen as a form of melancholy, a term used to define what we now call clinical depression.

Family holiday gathering, 1973.

Nostalgia is not just the act of remembering the past, it also involves yearning for it. The yearning can feel both “positive” and “negative,” although I don’t like to label emotions in this way.

As I said, I have noticed that I experience nostalgia more often now that I am in my 50s than I did when I was younger. It seems that nostalgia is a condition more common in older age–it’s rarer for children, teens, and young adults to wish to go back to an earlier time in their lives than it is for older people. This makes sense, as we begin to experience the physical decline of aging and often must take on more responsibility (e.g., career, family) as we age so may look back on our younger, stronger, healthier, and perhaps more carefree selves.

What Is Nostalgia For?

One of the aspects of nostalgia I have noticed is that it has a physical sensation to it–it’s not just emotional or cognitive. I feel it most in my chest and stomach. It’s hard to define specifically, but it’s similar to a sad feeling one might get watching an emotional movie. So, it definitely has a flavor of sorrow, but it also feels sort of good. And, in fact, the current view on nostalgia is that it has some emotional and cognitive benefits: some psychological experts feel that experiencing nostalgia can improve mood, increase social connectedness, enhance positive self-regard, promote self-growth, and provide existential meaning.

Decorating the tree on Christmas Eve, 1989, with my mom.

However, some nostalgia can be personally or socially harmful. A negative form of nostalgia is having an overly romantic and idealized view of the past; for example, some Americans consider the 40s and 50s “the good old days” because the economy was strong and many middle-class white families were doing well. However, this sort of nostalgia is a form of denial, overlooking the fact that this time in U.S. history also involved the social oppression of and barriers to people of color, women, and many others. It can also be a form of privilege or insular thinking–only looking at one’s own past in a bubble and not in the context of larger society.

Being blind to the layers of the past hinders us from moving forward and improving our social systems. And using denial and avoidance of our own difficult past experiences or emotions can result in unresolved feelings and emotional numbing or stunting.

Nostalgia Triggers

I felt some nostalgia this holiday season, the first since my mother’s death and the first I have not spent back East with family, due to COVID making travel risky. I’ve also had some strong nostalgic feelings when looking at old photos, hearing old songs, or thinking about past fun times and trips. It’s such a strange mix of feelings.

Tahiti vacation with BFFs Laurie and Cathy in 1996.

Certain smells and songs can be powerful nostalgia triggers. One reason smell is so evocative is that it’s the sense with the most direct path into the brain. Also, the region of the brain that processes smell is closely connected to the regions that are involved with memory and emotion, the hippocampus and amygdala.

And I’m sure we’ve all had the experience of music waking up strong, vivid memories. Various studies in the late 2000s and early 2010s found that listening to music engages broad neural networks in the brain, including brain regions responsible for motor movement, emotions, and creativity. Like the brain regions responsible for smell, those processing music are connected to the areas involved with feelings and memory.

Summer fun with friends Rachel, Mia, and Vanessa, 2001, in Philadelphia.

Looking Ahead

Today is New Year’s Day 2021, the start of a (hopefully) better year after a very painful, challenging, and anxiety-provoking 2020. It’s a natural time to reflect on the past as well as look to the future. Today, I’ve been feeling a little nostalgic about my mom, about all the things I used to enjoy doing that were not possible or had to be seriously altered in 2020 (e.g., getting together with friends or family, going to restaurants or bars, seeing live performances, visiting museums and galleries, traveling), and about other memories. Allowing ourselves to feel nostalgia and to reflect is important. In addition to the benefits nostalgia can bring our minds and hearts, reflection gives us the chance to take stock and decide what we want to carry with us into a new year and what we want to let go of or alter.

In San Diego with cousins Jill and Elizabeth, 2010.

Wishing all a happy New Year and a better year ahead!