(wrote this earlier in the week, posting on the weekend)
In a fit of acute clarity, I noticed that even when I tried to play a video game for a very short, reasonable amount of time--about 45 minutes--there was an unforeseen issue that made doing that inefficient.
If I could work hard, and then enjoy myself for a little bit at night with a really good game (currently I've been playing Breath of the Wild, which is like a Mozart Symphony in video game form, a masterpiece of the form, though not without flaws) that would be ideal. A nice balance of work and play. I tried that last night (as of this writing), setting an alarm for 40 minutes, giving me a few minutes to wind down. It probably went more like 50 minutes, but still, that's reasonable.
The unexpected thing was that afterward, I found myself in what felt like a different brain mode. Whereas before playing, I was feeling very self-disciplined, regimented, focused, ready to do all the good things I knew were good for me, like going to bed on time and eating my greens, afterward I had switched over to... what to call it... a less self-regulated flavor of thinking. rather than brushing my teeth and going to bed, I found myself dallying, reading this and that, and not getting to bed until around 10pm, instead of around 9.
An hour of play it absolutely OK. But if it requires an extra hour of... 'cool down' to get back into my feel-good do-good groove, and leaves me with a craving for more, rather than satiety,... I don't know about that.
I finally ended up reading a really good version of the Ramayana to wind down for bed, and a spiritual audio recording, and that felt so much better. I felt nourished, comforted, filled. I had to wonder why I would do the other thing to myself, when it left me discontented and craving.
Made me think of what I'd learned about the brain and addiction. So much of what our society does triggers dopamine and that brain cycle. People mistakenly think of dopamine as the feel-good chemical, but it is actually more like the craving chemical. It doesn't so much make you feel good, as make you want to feel good, often by doing very specific things. And those things tend to make you feel good short term, but then crave them even more.
Verses other things that make you feel good, and then leave you sated.
I think the clearest example of this is with bedtime reading: most modern novels are dopamine kicks: anything that you'd call 'a page turner' is setting you up chapter after chapter with cliffhangers and rising tension. Even though you're exhausted, something is pushing you to find out how it all ends, so you can get some closure. But even once you've gotten that closure, you're nervous system is all jazzed up from the excitement, and often results in weird dreams, because lots of intense and scary stuff was happening in the story. And almost always it ends with yet another cliff-hanger at the end of the book. Pure cruelty, serving the bottom line of business, making you need to buy that next book, when it comes out.
Versus, lets say, some uplifting spiritual literature: this also, if done well, lifts you up, makes you feel good, but it's not a page turner. it may be fascinating, but somehow, the whole is contained in the various parts, and you're never worrying if everything is going to be ok, because good is obviously going to triumph, and is triumphing in little and big ways, all the way through. You end up feeling ok, content, rather than lacking something.
The only problem with this, (and it's not really a problem, it's a good thing, it's why you can just read a little and then put it down) is that because it's not so addictive, it's less likely that we'll pick it up. we don't feel drawn, compelled to it. Our free will is left very much intact. It is always our choice.
It's kind of like a car salesman who knows they have a good product, and have plenty of customers, so they don't feel any need to push their product. They know it's good, they're making plenty of money, they can afford to just let people come to them, experience the car, and see that it's good for themselves.
Versus, on the addictive, dopamine side, a traditional used car salesman, with all the pressure tactics, deception, schemes to make their thing look more attractive, ways of getting your attention, ways of piercing your defences, making you want something you didn't even know about before and would never have considered getting on your own.
It's good business, but it's not good for you.
Some of it is good. But it's like the difference between fruit and candy. Fruit gives you a bit of a dopamine hit, but it's not extreme. You are almost never desperate for a banana like you might be for a coke or a cookie or some chocolate (depending on your personal tastes) And when you eat fruit, there's enough other stuff in there to regulate the digestion of it. To keep you from eating too much.
Just as we've distilled sugar to a point where it's powerfully addictive, we've distilled other experiences, like slot machines and video games and facebook, into powerfully addictive experiences.
And what I've been reminded of, is that we seem to have an 'addict mode' that we switch into, when doing something addictive, that carries over into the rest of our lives. In unexpected ways. It doesn't mean we become an addict for everything, but it does change our interactions with the world.
The simplest way I can describe it is like this: in that addiction mindset, I ignore my inner voice of rightness, often. I'm less self-controlled. I'm less willing to put off short term gratification for long-term rewards. I'm less willing to take risks and get uncomfortable, even for a good cause. I'm more inclined to snack, distract, and procrastinate (protract?). I'm less honest, especially with myself.
I think in order to do the addictive things which part of us knows is wrong, we need to put up a kind of screen, that shields us from the light of our conscience (another name I use for that quiet inner voice of rightness, or the voice of God within.)
Once we've put up that screen, we're more likely to do all kinds of things not in line with that inner voice. It's much easier, since we're already pretending "la la la I can't hear you."
But disregarding that voice has repercussions. It's hard to truly like yourself, deep down, when a part of you knows you're doing something that feels bad, or wrong. I think it's good to like yourself, even love yourself, no matter what. That's basically the meaning of unconditional love, and people generally agree it's a good quality to have.
But it's hard to do, and harder still, the more you feel out of integrity with yourself. Kind of a catch 22 though, since you'll do better if you feel better, and unconditional love and acceptance make you feel better, while shame makes you feel worse. Guilt can go either way. My definition of guilt is something you feel like you have the power to do something about. "that was bad, I feel guilty about it. I truly regret doing it, and I'm going to do my best not to repeat it." is a healthy process, if you then really let go of the guilt. I guess that's self-forgiveness? Shame, as I've been taught, is feeling bad about yourself, something intrinsic, that you can't change, that's who you are. "I guess I'm just a failure and I'll never be able to control myself" is shame, and it's toxic, not helpful.
This ended up long. Perhaps it deserved a long post, it feels like a big-ish realization.
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