EQUANIMITY
(Published in the December 2008 edition of the East Bay Psychiatric Association Newsletter)
I am one of those political junkies who read hundreds of editorials, opinion pieces, and blogs during the presidential campaign this year. Every day I would find points of view from the entire political spectrum expounding on all conceivable perspectives of the campaign and the personalities involved. It didn’t matter what your opinion was about anything—you could find support for it as well as an argument against it every single day.
After all is said and done, however, I have concluded that there was one factor above all others that led to President-elect Obama’s victory. And that factor had nothing to do with his positions on the economy, the war, his running mate’s personality, or what his racial background is. It was Barack Obama’s equanimity—his calmness and emotional cool—that carried the day. Whether during the debates or when his opponents were throwing political attacks or smears at him on the campaign trail, he never exhibited undue anger. He remained calm in every storm, stepping back and discussing what was happening, rather than reacting emotionally.
It is this precise quality of equanimity that we psychiatrists attempt to instill in our patients. We do this in several ways--by modeling such behavior, by helping our patients cognitively reframe their emotional reactions, and through the use of particular medications such as SSRI’s.
In politics, people have to find you likeable in order to vote for you. If a candidate projects irritability, anger, frustration, or annoyance, people will identify with those feelings (projective identification) and begin to feel emotionally uncomfortable themselves. But if a candidate projects equanimity, then the listener feels calmer and more reassured and is more likely to overlook differences in political positions and trust the candidate.
The temperamental quality of equanimity is not only optimal for politicians, but for almost anyone else as well. People with equanimity tolerate disagreement, personal criticism, and conflict without becoming unglued. In Obama’s case, now in this post election period, he even seems comfortable appointing people who were at odds with him during the campaign. He doesn’t appear to hold grudges or be vindictive—he seems to be able to keep his eye on the bigger picture of what he wants to accomplish politically.
If as an employer or manager you want someone to work hard for you and be loyal, then you praise that person when he succeeds, and you moderate and contain your anger toward him when he errs. That is the way to obtain devotion and hard work from your subordinates in any of life’s endeavors.
Developing increased equanimity may be the best investment any of us can make in these difficult economic times. It’s a no risk venture, won’t lose value over time, and will likely pay increased dividends for the rest of one’s life.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Monday, November 24, 2008
MIND FIELDS: Stories From the Other Side of the Couch
(ISBN 978-0-9745540-2-0)
Published by Big Hat Press, Lafayette, California, 2008
(Below is the Forward from the above entitled book of 9 psychiatric short stories):
The short story is a literary genre that has always appealed to me. I suppose this is so because in a single sitting I can complete the reading and feel the satisfaction of coming to the conclusion. I remember as a schoolboy reading O. Henry or Hans Christian Andersen or Grimm’s Fairy Tales and enjoying what I had read because of their brevity and quick resolution. I can remember also the appeal of certain novelists like Thomas Hardy, who held my interest over a longer period of time, and feeling disappointed when my relationship with his characters had ended. But Hardy was the exception for me, and too often I would find myself growing impatient with novelists and their protracted stories, and my interest would wane before I had completed the book.
The short story developed as a distinct literary genre in the 19th century beginning with Edgar Allan Poe. It is defined as a brief fictional narrative, usually between 500 and 10,000 words. For me, a short story connotes something akin to a bedtime story or perhaps a tale or fable briefly related orally from one person to another. The climax lurks right around the corner. There is some suspense, but that suspense is short lived. The conclusion is often ironic, leading to a sense of surprise. Typically, the central character has a problem that must be resolved quickly. A good short story stakes out its territory promptly, peaks the reader’s curiosity and colors in its characters swiftly, and then strikes with the climax, which often catches the reader off guard. Like a good joke, timing is crucial to the success of a short story.
Perhaps the most famous twentieth century short story writer was Nobel Laureate Isaac Bashevis Singer, whose prolific tales are published in collections that take up several volumes. Singer’s works focused primarily on Yiddish themes and were enormously popular. More recent day short story writers have also shown a knack for picking a theme and then developing a number of separate tales connected to that theme. Jhumpa Lahira, in Interpreter of Maladies, writes stories about people of Bengali heritage who have immigrated to the United States. Similarly, Joseph Epstein, in his collection Fabulous Small Jews, writes about conflicts as seen through the eyes of people who have a shared ethnicity. And Thomas McGuane (Gallatin Canyon), Annie Proulx (Close Range), and Thomas Steinbeck (Down to a Soundless Sea) each write their stories centered around a geographic local—Montana/Idaho, Wyoming, and the Big Sur areas respectively. In Steinbeck’s case, the focus that envelops his stories is not just a particular locale, but also a specific time period different from the one in which the author is living. These authors have all mastered the short story genre and were inspirational to me in writing this collection, which is my first book.
The theme that unites the stories in my collection is psychiatry. Most of the characters struggle with psychiatric conditions or defense mechanisms that shape their lives and the story. As a psychiatrist myself with 37 years of experience in the field, I have drawn on a range of specific examples from patients who have confided their struggles in me over the years. However, all of the characters in the book are entirely fictional. They are composites of many different patients’ symptoms or circumstances, as well as figments of my imagination.
While writing these stories, I found that if I allowed my characters to speak for themselves, that they went in directions that I had not anticipated and which at times surprised me. In essence, I found myself experiencing what other writers have reported, that is, I was simply “holding the pen” as the characters lived out their own lives. Nonetheless, the psychiatric problems portrayed in my stories are meant to be realistic, and in that sense I hope that they contain instructive elements as well as provide entertainment. Toward that end, I have provided a study guide in an appendix.
Hugh R. Winig, M.D.
Walnut Creek, California
May 2008
(ISBN 978-0-9745540-2-0)
Published by Big Hat Press, Lafayette, California, 2008
(Below is the Forward from the above entitled book of 9 psychiatric short stories):
The short story is a literary genre that has always appealed to me. I suppose this is so because in a single sitting I can complete the reading and feel the satisfaction of coming to the conclusion. I remember as a schoolboy reading O. Henry or Hans Christian Andersen or Grimm’s Fairy Tales and enjoying what I had read because of their brevity and quick resolution. I can remember also the appeal of certain novelists like Thomas Hardy, who held my interest over a longer period of time, and feeling disappointed when my relationship with his characters had ended. But Hardy was the exception for me, and too often I would find myself growing impatient with novelists and their protracted stories, and my interest would wane before I had completed the book.
The short story developed as a distinct literary genre in the 19th century beginning with Edgar Allan Poe. It is defined as a brief fictional narrative, usually between 500 and 10,000 words. For me, a short story connotes something akin to a bedtime story or perhaps a tale or fable briefly related orally from one person to another. The climax lurks right around the corner. There is some suspense, but that suspense is short lived. The conclusion is often ironic, leading to a sense of surprise. Typically, the central character has a problem that must be resolved quickly. A good short story stakes out its territory promptly, peaks the reader’s curiosity and colors in its characters swiftly, and then strikes with the climax, which often catches the reader off guard. Like a good joke, timing is crucial to the success of a short story.
Perhaps the most famous twentieth century short story writer was Nobel Laureate Isaac Bashevis Singer, whose prolific tales are published in collections that take up several volumes. Singer’s works focused primarily on Yiddish themes and were enormously popular. More recent day short story writers have also shown a knack for picking a theme and then developing a number of separate tales connected to that theme. Jhumpa Lahira, in Interpreter of Maladies, writes stories about people of Bengali heritage who have immigrated to the United States. Similarly, Joseph Epstein, in his collection Fabulous Small Jews, writes about conflicts as seen through the eyes of people who have a shared ethnicity. And Thomas McGuane (Gallatin Canyon), Annie Proulx (Close Range), and Thomas Steinbeck (Down to a Soundless Sea) each write their stories centered around a geographic local—Montana/Idaho, Wyoming, and the Big Sur areas respectively. In Steinbeck’s case, the focus that envelops his stories is not just a particular locale, but also a specific time period different from the one in which the author is living. These authors have all mastered the short story genre and were inspirational to me in writing this collection, which is my first book.
The theme that unites the stories in my collection is psychiatry. Most of the characters struggle with psychiatric conditions or defense mechanisms that shape their lives and the story. As a psychiatrist myself with 37 years of experience in the field, I have drawn on a range of specific examples from patients who have confided their struggles in me over the years. However, all of the characters in the book are entirely fictional. They are composites of many different patients’ symptoms or circumstances, as well as figments of my imagination.
While writing these stories, I found that if I allowed my characters to speak for themselves, that they went in directions that I had not anticipated and which at times surprised me. In essence, I found myself experiencing what other writers have reported, that is, I was simply “holding the pen” as the characters lived out their own lives. Nonetheless, the psychiatric problems portrayed in my stories are meant to be realistic, and in that sense I hope that they contain instructive elements as well as provide entertainment. Toward that end, I have provided a study guide in an appendix.
Hugh R. Winig, M.D.
Walnut Creek, California
May 2008
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