Last Saturday, as I was writing my review of Broadway by the Bay's Into the Woods, an episode of Malcolm Gladwell's Revisionist History began playing. Within seconds, I was able to summarize the entire episode in a few sentences:
"They're going to say that Olympic silver medalists feel worse than bronze medalists, because silver medalists upward social compare ('I could have been the best in the world, but I'm not,') and bronze medalists downward social compare ('I'm so happy I got a medal!')."
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Let me start by saying that I love you. I love that you want to be there for me. I love that you're showing concern for my health and recovery. It means so much.
But can I just, real quick, tell you what my mornings have been like since my injury?
My background is in psychology -- but not abnormal or relationship psychology. (I studied adult playfulness!) I want to acknowledge that before I start, because this is far from my area of expertise.
But I just saw some of THE MOST FUCKED UP SHIT on Facebook, and it prompted an important realization:
There is a difference between helping a depressed friend and enabling an abuser.
Manners are great -- when appropriate.
But there is a time and a place for everything.
Hey, guys. There's this REALLY bad canine influenza going around -- it's highly contagious, infecting about 80% of all dogs who come into contact with it, according to the American Veterinary Medical Association. Fortunately, it's rarely deadly; nevertheless, I found myself at the vet this morning for my dog's second vaccination.
After using several treats to lure my dog into the vet's office, I returned to the waiting room, where I heard sobbing coming from outside the building. Soon, a young woman holding a limp, lifeless puppy burst through the doors. The office staff jumped to action... But it was clear there was nothing they could do.
Apparently, it's that time of year again. I know this not because I've seen Girl Scouts out and about, actively developing business, social, and communication skills... but because I've seen parents posting links on their Facebook accounts.
All I can say is, "DON'T DO IT."
People who don't know much about life coaching love to poo poo life coaching. Like, looooove.
And I understand why. The idea that a 25-year-old with two years of work experience knows what it takes to make you a CEO... is a little absurd.
I confronted a guy who tried to cut me in the Immigrations line at Bandaranike International Airport in Sri Lanka a few months ago. He fired back by calling me Taylor Swift...
I was all, "Taylor Swift IS the music industry. I don't see how that's a diss."
With the exception of one small (err, actually kind of major) thing (see also: Phillips Exeter Faculty Lie to Sexual Assault Victim, Tell Her She Wasn't Assaulted), I totally love my high school. I mean, come on! Our classes took place around a Harkness table -- we constantly debated, discussed, and learned from each other. It was a totally epic learning experience.
But that didn't stop one of the most ridiculous Facebook conversations ever from happening on the alumni page this week.
I recently found myself sitting by a river in Idaho with no agenda or technology - for a whole day! So I read Loving What Is: Four Questions That Can Change Your Life, by Byron Katie.
About the Author
Eva is a content specialist with a passion for play, travel... and a little bit of girl power. Read more >
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