Presence

Picture the scene: you're receiving a silver award at the Olympics medal ceremony. Think of the flashlight from one camera after another, and you might picture yourself smiling. But it would be interesting to take a peek (not more) at the bronze medalist on the other side of the podium. Do you know his smile is much happier than yours?

Psychologists, after going through video footage of the previous Olympics winners, are now rock-solid certain that the bronze medalists are way more happier than the silver winners. It is because of counterfactual thinking: we tend to compare our objective achievements to what "might have been." The silver medalist tends to focus on the difference between winning gold and the silver. The bronze winner, on the other hand, would focus on almost not winning a medal at all. In this way, bronze medalists' reference point of "At least I got a medal" makes them feel happier.

Not convinced? Consider yourself missing a flight by five minutes and then missing it after late arrival at the airport by two hours. Which of them is going to make you feel more miserable? Five minutes, of course. You wish to kick yourself hard for that mistake.

I don't just read the behavioral scientist research, I experienced it. And I didn't just experience it, I overcame the thinking. That happened after my first 10 km running race this week, when I took part in the advanced (oh yes, that refers to the age criteria, not the skill) category. I sensed an heavier-than-usual panting sound during the race as I got used to waves of runners passing me by. The instinctive human response to being passed is to accelerate as quickly as possible: the faster my competitors, the greater the speed I gathered. I unlocked my best personal record of finishing 10 km - if you're curious - within 46 minutes. This is, interestingly, a similar story to that of missing flight when I realized that my position is the tenth, just one short of the top nine runners who receive trophies.

"Oh, I could have won a trophy" ran through my head for a few times. And then, it hit me: I should get to yes to myself and learn to live for experiences rather than outcomes. The precious things in life are moments: the experience itself, not the afterglow; the doing, not the having done.