We've spent the last few weeks cleaning out my (Suzie's) childhood home that my father had built and my family recently put up for sale. It was a daunting task on many levels.

My parents lived there for nearly fifty years until recently, when their health sadly began to decline, and it had been my home for as long as I can remember.

While I haven't lived there in decades, it's always been my sacred fortress that I could retreat to whenever I chose for loving comfort and connections with my mother and father, usually over freshly roasted coffee, delicious homemade dinners, and Italian wine.

Not to mention, it was also a convenient place where I could store my high school and college memorabilia, childhood furniture, and a multitude of other items that my New York City and Philadelphia apartments couldn't afford the space for.

While we sorted through the beloved heirlooms that made up the rooms, fond memories came flooding back. It was as if each item was a magical key to the recesses of my mind where so many of my favorite childhood memories had also been stored for a long time.

It was also overwhelming at times. In addition to the positive emotions that were evoked by looking through cherished mementos, I also experienced what positive psychologists refer to as negative emotions: feelings such as sadness, loneliness, and fear.

There were lots of things to unload and let go of, and we no longer have a place for various pieces of furniture, beautiful ceramics, and random tchotchkes. The hardest things, though, to unpack were the emotional ones.

Some of the thoughts that ran through my mind as I stood in the kitchen and peered through the window that overlooked the backyard were:

I will no longer be able to sit at the kitchen table to enjoy a home-cooked meal with my parents over a good conversation.

I won’t be able to pop in on Mom and Dad and go for a walk in the backyard to take in the natural beauty and hear the birds chirping.

Why did my Mom and Dad have to get sick? Why couldn’t they have remained healthy well into their eighth decade like many others and been able to stay in their beloved home?

And finally, while not nearly as heart-wrenching:

How in the world will I be able to sort through everything in such a short time? And what am I going to do with all the stuff?

Luckily, I caught myself in this downward spiral of ruminating and realized I needed to stop these negative thoughts as they were only causing me to feel worse. I immediately redirected my attention to two things: what I was taught as a young child by my Mom (my faith) and what I learned later in life (positive psychology).

And I slowly began to feel better.

I first remembered the Serenity Prayer, which is inscribed on a decorative wooden cross that my dear mother gifted me years ago and that has been perched on my bedstand ever since. It reads as follows:

God grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change.
The Courage to change the things I can,
and the Wisdom to know the difference.

Although a considerable amount of our lives remains beyond our immediate control, through spirituality, we can uncover ways to understand and cope with our fundamental humanity and limitations,

For me, this perspective is ultimately the Serenity Prayer in action—akin to the teachings of positive psychology—which is a fine balance between willful doing and peaceful accepting and being, all the while believing.

We call on God's help for courage to change the things that we can, the strength to accept the things that we can't, and the wisdom to know the difference.

I also stumbled upon a Psychology Today post by our dear friend Rick Hanson that couldn't have come at a better time. It reminded me that there is a time for everything: beginnings, endings, and everything in between.

In brief, Hanson talks about the Hindu view of God having three primary manifestations: creator, preserver, and destroyer. And he eloquently sums it up by saying,

There is a lawful and beneficial principle in the universe that is about pruning, emptying, completing, and ending.”

"This positive 'destroying,'" as he broadly calls it, "enables creating and preserving, as exhaling enables inhaling, or emptying a cup of something bitter enables filling it with something sweet. Dropping loads enables lightening up."

In positive psychology, a common phrase psychologists emphasize is to "control the controllables." After reflecting for a bit on what I needed to let go, I thought of what things I could control.

While I couldn't magically make my parents better or hold onto our beloved home forever, there were some science-based things I could do to help me in the moment and increase my overall well-being. I took the following three actions and suggested them to anyone else who might be experiencing a similar challenge:

1. Active Savoring: Defined as the "processes underlying our capacities to attend to, appreciate, and enhance positive experiences," savoring is a psychological concept associated with greater well-being. It plays such a powerful role in our lives and our relationships. As we discuss in Happy Together, we can savor the present, past, and future.

With savoring research top of mind, rather than ruminating on how things would never be the same, I decided to recall all the fond experiences in our family home over the past five decades. I walked slowly throughout the house and along the property, recording not just what was in front of me but also within me: All my positive thoughts and experiences stored up in my mind and heart from over the years. And how they helped make me the person I am today.

2. Nurturing Connections: Strong social connections are correlated with flourishing in life. In fact, thriving relationships have been found to be the single most important predictor of aging well, according to Harvard University psychiatrist George Vaillant, who helmed the largest study on adult development.

Instead of handling this challenging situation alone, I reached out to my siblings to spend some additional time together in the house while it was still possible before the closing. We strengthened our bonds while working together to help clean out the house.

Whether dragging a large mattress and a box spring down a spiral staircase or hauling an unwieldy couch up a steep flight of basement stairs (that nearly crushed my ankle), we burned off some collective pent-up anxiety and had a few laughs in the process. Despite how lonely I had previously felt, I realized we were all in this together and felt much better.

3. Peak-End Theory: Psychologists have found that we tend to have a cognitive bias when remembering events in our lives. The intensity, or "peak" of an event, as well as the "end" of an event, strongly colors how we will remember the experience later and whether we will view it as positive or negative.

Remembering this theory, I planned a final walk-through of my childhood home with James to give him a detailed tour of where I spent my formative years. I was excited about this final exercise as I knew many positive memories would be evoked. I anticipated how recounting the many meaningful moments from my past would not only make me feel better. Still, I would likely help us become better together since sharing heartfelt memories directly correlates to a stronger relationship.

I returned to the home again for a final time. But this time, instead of feeling sad, I was able to rekindle feelings of joy by deeply savoring all the beautiful moments and connections that would forever live on in my heart. And I was able to share these positive emotions with James, which doubled my joy.

References

Bryant, F.B., & Veroff, J. (2007). Savoring: A new model of positive experience. Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates.

Pargament, K. I., & Mahoney, A. (2002). Spirituality: Discovering and conserving the sacred. In C.R. Snyder & S. J. Lopez (Eds.), Handbook of positive psychology. Oxford University Press.

Pileggi Pawelski, S., Pawelski, J.O. (2018). Happy Together: Using the Science of Positive Psychology to Build Love That Lasts. NY: TarcherPerigee.

QOSHE - What Are the Moments That Matter Most in Life? - Suzie Pileggi Pawelski
menu_open
Columnists Actual . Favourites . Archive
We use cookies to provide some features and experiences in QOSHE

More information  .  Close
Aa Aa Aa
- A +

What Are the Moments That Matter Most in Life?

16 0
21.12.2023

We've spent the last few weeks cleaning out my (Suzie's) childhood home that my father had built and my family recently put up for sale. It was a daunting task on many levels.

My parents lived there for nearly fifty years until recently, when their health sadly began to decline, and it had been my home for as long as I can remember.

While I haven't lived there in decades, it's always been my sacred fortress that I could retreat to whenever I chose for loving comfort and connections with my mother and father, usually over freshly roasted coffee, delicious homemade dinners, and Italian wine.

Not to mention, it was also a convenient place where I could store my high school and college memorabilia, childhood furniture, and a multitude of other items that my New York City and Philadelphia apartments couldn't afford the space for.

While we sorted through the beloved heirlooms that made up the rooms, fond memories came flooding back. It was as if each item was a magical key to the recesses of my mind where so many of my favorite childhood memories had also been stored for a long time.

It was also overwhelming at times. In addition to the positive emotions that were evoked by looking through cherished mementos, I also experienced what positive psychologists refer to as negative emotions: feelings such as sadness, loneliness, and fear.

There were lots of things to unload and let go of, and we no longer have a place for various pieces of furniture, beautiful ceramics, and random tchotchkes. The hardest things, though, to unpack were the emotional ones.

Some of the thoughts that ran through my mind as I stood in the kitchen and peered through the window that overlooked the backyard were:

I will no longer be able to sit at the kitchen table to enjoy a home-cooked meal with my parents over a good conversation.

I won’t be able to pop in on Mom and Dad and go for a walk in the backyard to take in the natural beauty and hear the birds chirping.

Why did my Mom and Dad have to get sick? Why couldn’t they have remained healthy well into their........

© Psychology Today


Get it on Google Play