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Why you might need an adventure

Why you might need an adventure

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AAlmost everyone knows it the first line of Herman Melville’s 1851 masterpiece Moby Dick: “Call me Ishmael.” Fewer people may remember what comes next – which may be some of the best advice ever given to chase away a little depression:

Every time I find myself grimacing about the mouth; when in my soul it is a damp, drizzly November; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing at coffin warehouses, and standing behind every funeral I come across… then I consider it high time to go to sea as soon as possible.

Melville’s narrator was ostensibly a 19th-century whaler, whose remedy for what he called the “hypos” was to take to the high seas and forget his troubles. Whaling wasn’t exactly a celebration for a cup of hot chocolate and a comfort dog; it was a brutal, exhausting and dangerous job (just read the rest of the novel for a detailed account of it).

So Ishmael’s prescription seems like counterintuitive advice in today’s age of self-care. But Melville may have known something we’ve forgotten: when life lets you down, the answer is no more comfort, but fewer. If you’re suffering from your own case of hypos, the solution can be a daunting task.

In 2017, a scholar at Murdoch University in Australia suggested a provocative hypothesis about why people who feel materially comfortable would still be drawn to difficult, even dangerous tasks. The researcher started from the observation that the universe is simultaneously life-giving and deadly, and therefore humans had to embrace risk from the start in order to thrive. This characteristic, which has since been demonstrably encoded in the genome, can manifest itself in humans as a tendency to adopt risky heroic behavior and to admire this in fellow humans.

That genetic inheritance is reinforced by culture – which is why heroic adventure is the basis of almost all mythologies. This was Joseph Campbell’s famous conclusion in his 1949 study of archetypes: The hero with a thousand faces. In it, Campbell, a professor of literature, explained the structure of the ‘monomyth’. which provides the underlying architecture of a narrative tradition spanning millennia and commonly known as the “hero’s journey,” such as the Old Testament’s King David story and the story of George Luke. Star Wars series.

This ancient myth begins with a call to adventure, goes through a series of difficult trials and dangerous obstacles, and ultimately ends in triumph. The psychoanalyst Carl Jung, who among otherswho popularized the concept of archetypes, saw that pursuing a metaphorical form of the hero’s journey could be indispensable for anyone to find fulfillment in life. “Only the one who dares to fight the dragon and is not overcome by it will win the treasure,” he says wrote.

Indeed, evidence from modern researchers suggests that framing your life as this kind of quest, even when it is difficult or unwelcome, can lead to positive transformation. In a 2023 experiment, scientists asked participants to reframe their lives as one that followed the steps of the hero’s journey. The researchers found that this increased their subjects’ sense of purpose; it also made a difficult task more meaningful for them and improved their resilience in the face of problems.

But beyond simply rewriting your life story to make it more of a hero’s journey, starting an actual journey in the form of a voluntary challenge or adventure can yield immediate and profound happiness benefits. Take a look at a 2013 study find where experienced climbers tend to derive unusual spiritual inspiration, experiencing a greater sense of currentand generally feel happier climbing mountains. A 2023 meta-analysis of outdoor adventure research showed that participants in these experiences benefited in at least one of four ways: physical and mental balance, personal development, community, and immersion and transformation.

A challenging adventure doesn’t have to be physical in nature to provide benefits; it might as well be mental. It is indeed true that you learn new things with a spirit of curiosity and inquiry shown to induce positive moods. This raises an interesting one paradox This is evident from this field of happiness research: people derive much more happiness from high-skill activities that require learning than from low-skill activities that do not, yet we usually settle for the latter. In other words, you’ll probably be much happier reading about philosophy or science than just scrolling through social media – so why are you still scrolling? The obvious answer is that it requires far less learning effort and mental focus – and while the happiness benefits of reading Cicero are likely to be greater, they are delayed and seem abstract compared to the immediate, if largely illusory, gratification of sitting on the couch. watch videos on your phone.

Just as more demanding physical and mental adventures increase happiness, their absence can harm well-being. This is a common theme that has emerged analysis of declining mental health during the corona pandemic lockdowns, when people suffered from a lack of external stimuli and new experiences. Those who did best during this period tended to be people with an ‘adventurous mentality’ – who deliberately sought out new, interesting and challenging things to see and do.

If you find yourself a bit “grim about the mouth” like Ishmael, you don’t necessarily have to risk your life chasing an angry sperm whale around the world. But you don’t have to indulge your melancholy either. I can suggest two approaches you can use right away to address your hypos.

The first strategy is to use that narrative device of the hero’s journey to reframe your difficulties. This can be especially powerful if you have recently experienced an event or hardship from which you are still struggling to recover. For example, suppose you experienced a bad breakup that you didn’t initiate. This experience can all too easily be interpreted as a humiliating defeat or evidence of failure. It’s none of those things if you can think of it this way: that your breakup has pulled you out of a complacent reverie with unwelcome evidence that you weren’t actually in the right relationship.

That realization is essentially your call to adventure, says Campbell. Now that you are confronted with this truth, you can begin the second phase of your journey: learning to overcome emotional obstacles and becoming stronger through your pain. The biggest stage is in front of you, if you shall emerge triumphant – safer, more emotionally intelligent, more self-knowledgeable – ready to love again and be happier, on your own terms.

The second strategy is, if your life just feels dull and gray, find a challenge that is rewarding, difficult, and maybe even scary. If you find it a little too easy to spend time on work that doesn’t inspire you, you may need to announce (at least to yourself) your intention to quit and look for a job. If the information you carry in your head has become stale to you, it may be time to go back to school in a new field. For a physical challenge, sign up for a half marathon in six months or (my personal favorite) head out walk a few hundred kilometers. If your earthly existence is starting to get boring, start looking for metaphysical truths. And if it shocks those around you who always took you for someone without a spiritual bone in your body, so much the better.

Of course, there is no guarantee that whatever adventure you choose will turn out as you hope. And that’s the point. If it were safe, it wouldn’t be heroic; if it was predictable, it wouldn’t be an adventure. Even if your heroic exploits turn out to be more uncomfortable or painful than you expected, that too is part of your journey. The goal is not to win in a conventional way; it is waking up and living fully. If it’s the first time in a long time, it should be refreshing.

One last point about the adventure you might seek: A common mistake is not to be Ishmael, but to be Captain Ahab. Ahab – the doomed skipper of the Pequod, the whaling ship whose crew Ishmael joined – was particularly consumed by finding and killing Moby Dick, the great white whale. The days leading up to Ahab’s fateful encounter with the great whale were a fever dream focused solely on the object of his obsession. This makes Melville’s story a myth in reverse: the journey of an antihero that began with a plan born of hatred and revenge, that involved trials from which Ahab learned nothing, and that ended tragically in a way of no return made.

Your adventure must have a purpose, that’s true, but it’s called a hero’s journey for a reason. Happiness does not come from the moment of victory, but from the long arc of living, learning and loving. That is the best remedy for a damp, drizzly November in your soul.