Cravings

Not too long ago, I was in a conversation with a few women. And as happens among women who have given birth, we were swapping 'war stories' about our experiences. The amusing part was when we told our various craving stories. Pregnant women are notorious for craving odd things to eat. There didn't seem to be any sort of particular pattern, each of us just wanted to eat some strange things at times before our children were born. None of us were the classic pickles and ice cream cravers. In fact, I was a bit smug that before my second son was born I was strictly scarfing down raw cauliflower. We won't get into my craving for Jack in the Box tacos with the first one.

The conventional wisdom, whether it is supported by science or not I don't know, is that if one is craving something specific then it is something that you need. If you want a banana, maybe you need more potassium in your diet. If you want a dill pickle, perhaps you need sodium. I can't hazard a guess at what I might have needed from those dreadful tacos, but with healthier choices, I imagine that there could be something to the benefits of those cravings. Just so long as a craving doesn't turn itself into an addiction, there doesn't seem to be any problem in responding to it. A scoop of ice cream is fine, a half a gallon is something else entirely.

This led me to think about non-food related cravings and what they might spring from. If we carry the analogy further, surely they also reflect some sort of need that the person has. We all remember (or perhaps were) the kid in grade school who would do anything to try to be accepted by the other kids. Maybe they were a bit socially inept, perhaps they wore the 'wrong' shoes, or they were just not part of the 'in' crowd. For whatever reason, they felt incredibly isolated and generally mocked by others. Pity was the best they could hope for. But what was really going on here? Was it something worthy of pity or contempt? Not really. For whatever reason they craved connection and, some how, others found them to be unworthy of it. As they got older, they most likely just gave up and hid the need deep within themselves. Some might have even taken the 'sour grapes' tactic and decided that they never wanted it in the first place. My question is, inevitably, why? Why were they mocked for what is a natural desire?

If we look at the food cravings, they are usually met with smiles and good humor. Ha ha ha, you wanted pickles and ice cream. But there isn't any contempt as there seems to be with various cravings for human contact. In fact, even expressing them is considered to be unacceptable. Almost as if it is some sort of weakness to have human needs and admit it. And it truly has me befuddled. What is the possible risk or danger here, to either side of the equation? Nope, can't come up with anything.

Many, many years ago, I worked in the hospital wing of a very large convent. One of the sister's minds had slipped well away from the accomplished, intelligent woman that she had been earlier in her life. She spent her days yelling at little boys who weren't there and crying. Her answer, when asked why she was crying, was always the same. "No one loves me." All of her accomplishments in life disappeared in the face of unrelieved loneliness. No doubt, she had felt the loneliness for many years, but given the nature of her commitment, she probably never voiced it. And, while there was no large scale solution to her past, most of the aides could calm her merely by assuring her that they loved her.

On the opposite side of the spectrum, I used to have a next door neighbor in her 80s. She was a crusty old bird who always spoke her mind and the devil could take the hindmost. She'd been widowed, one of her sons had died, even her dog had been killed. But there was no lingering sadness or isolation in her daily life. She took to summoning me over and telling me we were going to have tea. And so we did. It never occurred to me to turn her down. She was obviously living her life on her own terms and would not sit around hoping for company, she demanded it. I think, however, that she was more of the exception than the rule.

And I wonder why. It is almost as if we have some sort of shame around asking for what we need from others. Or perhaps it is a loss of face concerning the fact that whatever it is we crave has not been given to us and we suspect that we are, therefore, not worthy of it. Could it be that those childhood traumas still inform our adult needs? Or is there some sort of tacit agreement between everyone that such things can only come as a gift and the request somehow negates that. On yet another hand, perhaps the asking carries an assumption of a demand on someone else. Or.......I don't know exactly what all else.

More importantly, how does one live truly from one's essential self, if an effort has to be maintained to deny parts of that core? How do we respond to people in our lives with cravings that we may or may not be able to answer? How do we understand them? Maybe those with cravings should feel free to ask for what they need. Maybe those hearing the request should wonder how long the person has been hungry and make them a small snack. After all, there is not anything to criticize in the cravings we all have.

Happiness

"Happiness comes of the capacity to feel deeply, to enjoy simply, to think freely, to be needed." -- Storm Jameson.

When I read this quote, it struck me as true, but also as incomplete. But I think she may have left out something vital, unless it is implied by one of the others. And I also wondered whether one is truly happy if they only have 3/4 of the list or half of it.

I think that, despite the fact that it can also lead to sorrow, "to feel deeply" does belong on the happiness list. I have known people who shut off their feelings, perhaps in an effort to insulate themselves from pain, perhaps for some unknown other reason. And I always come away from encounters with them feeling as if they are basically very unhappy people, no matter how much they try to convince themselves that they are numb to it. One person even tried to tell me that I only left myself open to being hurt by caring and feeling. To which I replied that that was better than not feeling anything at all. Since I do not exist in the same world as such folks, I cannot imagine the state of their interior landscape. But I can't help but fear that they will be very lonely some day and regret having shut themselves off.

For me, feeling deeply means that I am connected with what is around me: the people, places and events that fill up our world. It also means that I am connected with myself. Yes, it means that I cry at movies or the news, but it also means I laugh and love with no restraint. And I'd much prefer that to numbness.

"To enjoy simply" seems like a given for me, although I don't know that everyone would agree. It occurs to me that if we require elaborate plans to enjoy things, we make it difficult to enjoy much of our lives. Whether the plans require preparation or money, they can be deferred by circumstances and I believe that happiness deferred is happiness lost. How much more enjoyment in life would we have if we noticed the daffodils poking up in spring? Or the smell of smoke coming from chimneys in the dead of winter? Or the taste of fresh bread? Or the stars in the night sky? Or innumerable things just waiting for us to notice them as we go about our day? Of course, this would require us to slow down a bit, so that we don't miss the opportunity. Would that be a bad thing?

I hadn't ever thought about "thinking freely" as a component of happiness, but I think perhaps she is right about this one, too. If one does not think for oneself and adheres to some outside prescription for important matters in one's life, how could one be truly happy? Content, perhaps, but not happy. For me, thinking freely means entertaining ideas that may be in conflict with each other in an effort to determine what I believe to be true. This goes for politics, spirituality and social norms. I don't accept any premise unless I have examined it from all angles. This can be annoying, even provoking, to some. And I know that people have dropped me because they couldn't stand that I didn't fall automatically into line with their position. But I know that I could never be truly happy not examining positions from every angle in order to find my own truth.

"To be needed" seems to be true as well. And a lack in this area not only negates happiness, but also causes serious depression. I think we see it most sharply with mothers whose children have grown and left the nest and with the elderly who can no longer fully participate in things that connected them with others. There comes a feeling of uselessness in the lack of being needed. And we don't seem to find happiness in merely amusing ourselves. Perhaps it is our upbringing or perhaps it is innate in humans, but the need to be needed in some capacity seems to be a requirement for happiness. I have known a couple of people who seemed to muddle through their lives without making an effort to connect and, as a result, they truly were not needed by those around them. In one case, it led to dying all alone and unmourned. We need to be needed, whether it is by our pets, the elderly neighbor next door, our loved ones or to people who benefit from our work. And we seem to need a constant diet of it. Being needed 20 years ago is not the same thing as being needed now, and it does not give on-going happiness now.

The thing I think Ms. Jameson left out of her list for happiness is to love and be loved. She may have implied it in the being needed or feeling deeply, but it wasn't clearly there. And it is absolutely vital. And it may be the case that the most important half of those two is to love, if one is limited to just one. When it is mutual, I believe that there is a dimension of freedom that opens one up to even greater happiness. I have never been in such a situation, but it seems there is a greater space for allowing in such a relationship. What freedom to be allowed to touch and care for another! To share parts of ourselves that we share with no one else. To find peace just knowing that the other one is there. To know that someone would notice and worry if you didn't make it home some evening, and to worry about that someone if they didn't make it home.

Is this list complete? I don't know. I suspect it is the basics that people add to individually. But I wonder what happens to happiness if any of the basics are missing? I think it might be the case that we find a way to be happy with what we have, but the longing for the missing ones will remain. Perhaps the best we can hope for is to go a little beyond the half way mark and relish anything more as a cherished gift. At least, for myself, I hope that is the case.