Latest news with #MihalyCsikszentmihalyi
The Guardian
18-05-2025
- Health
- The Guardian
My sister was diagnosed with cancer – and it taught me the meaning of surrender
When I was a kid, my sister's favourite biblical passage was from the gospel according to Luke. 'Suffer little children to come unto me,' Jesus told his disciples, 'for of such is the Kingdom of God.' My sister had been diagnosed with terminal cancer and she understood Jesus to be saying that children like her, who felt pain, would inherit paradise. Her favourite saints were the youthful martyrs – Angela of Fatima, Bernadette of Lourdes, Thérèse of Lisieux, the Little Flower. Every week my parish gathered to pray for my sister and the priest offered up her suffering, everyone's suffering, all the suffering of the world, to God. When I heard the priest's words, I heard: distance, inferiority, unworthiness. I did not understand how my suffering would be of any material use to God. How would surrendering my suffering, or that of my sister, change anything? Many of the world's dominant religions have a tradition of surrendering to a higher power. The neuroscientist and psychiatrist Judson Brewer calls this the 'universe prompt' – a reminder to let go of the small self, stepping into that most coveted of creative states, which the psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi famously called 'flow'. This is a state in which a person becomes completely immersed in an activity. The inner critic is quiet and the work becomes its own reward. In 2015 scientists studied intense Islamic prayer, which encourages the adherent to 'surrender' the self to God. The study found that this type of prayer reduced the activity in the prefrontal cortex, frontal and parietal lobes, quieting the decision-making parts of the mind and reducing stress. Later studies have confirmed the role of the inferior parietal lobe in spiritual experiences. Spiritual practices can dampen the activity in the IPL, correlating with profound shifts in the perception of agency and the sense of the body in space and time. In other words, spiritual practices can induce a sense of being part of something bigger than oneself and a sense of surrender to that something bigger. Practices of surrender allow a person to feel wrapped in love, laying down their burdens, being at rest. Think of elite athletes who kiss their crosses or form a prayer huddle before a game, putting their fates in the hands of a higher power. Such acts may induce a much-needed sense of calm in high-pressure circumstances, allowing these individuals to enter into 'flow', akin to an experience of grace. Muhammad, the founder of Islam, theorised that it is human nature to get caught up in material aspirations: we spend much of our lives in doing mode, striving for status. To help people recall, over and over again, their core relation to the universe, Muhammad instituted a system of regular prayer. Five times a day, Muslims hear the call to prayer, the adhan which translates as 'to listen'. Muslims turn towards Mecca and contemplate their connection to something greater than themselves. According to religious scholars of Islam, each time a Muslim prays in this way, they fulfil their two key obligations to God: gratitude and surrender. In a similar vein, Jesus implored his followers to remember him each time they broke bread together. Buddhists spend hours drilling their minds in the skill of attending to every moment, thus becoming aware of the ultimate nature of reality as empty and impermanent. They practise existing in both a state of surrender and agency at once. Such practices might become rote over time, conjuring not connection but boredom. 'Routine' comes from the Old French word rute, meaning 'road, way, path' from the Latin rupta, meaning a road opened by force, from the Latin rumpere, 'to break'. This is the thing about routine. It allows for surrender and comfort but requires a person to come back to it as if for the first time, every time, applying deep concentration to break through, opening a path to grace by force. Spiritual surrender is not the same as doing nothing. Islam, Buddhism and Christianity exhort their followers to be of service to others, to work for the common good. As the Christian medieval mystic Teresa of Ávila wrote in her poem, 'Yours are the hands through which he [Jesus] blesses all the world.' As I got older and learned to read, I realised that my sister had misinterpreted the biblical quote about suffering little children. Jesus was simply telling his disciples to let parents bring their children to him for a blessing. By then, my sister's memory and attention had started to fail. I didn't correct her. I hoped that she could offer up her suffering and, for a moment, feel that it was holy. I let her hold on to the belief that her pain had purpose. I hoped it brought her some comfort – that, even briefly, her suffering might feel sacred. Jackie Bailey is the author of The Eulogy, the winner of the 2023 NSW premier's literary multicultural award. When not writing, she works as a funeral celebrant and pastoral care practitioner, helping families navigate death and dying
Forbes
09-05-2025
- General
- Forbes
Atomic Flow: Learn Something Unnecessary; Transform Your Business
Vortex split view of blue ocean waters below and above surface I recently began learning sign language. It might sound strange at first. I do not know anyone with an auditory impairment, and there is no immediate practical need driving me to do it. But I started anyway. Why? Because I want to grow. In Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience, author Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi explores how humans thrive when they are engaged in what he calls 'optimal experience.' These moments occur when we stretch our skills, face new challenges, and grow in complexity as individuals. Growth, according to this framework, is not just something we achieve. It is something we experience deeply when we pursue it with intention. This struck a chord with me. I realized how much I enjoy becoming more embodied when I meditate on Biblical Scripture by incorporating physical movement. Using my hands to reflect on truth gives me a richer sense of presence. That insight led me to want more physical involvement in learning. So I picked up sign language. Not because I had to. But because I could. I made a small commitment to learn the signs for one Bible verse each week. It felt meaningful. It also felt difficult. And that is where most entrepreneurs get stuck. We often tell ourselves we do not have time for 'unnecessary' growth. We convince ourselves that anything not directly contributing to revenue or efficiency is a luxury we cannot afford. But that mindset is shortsighted. As leaders, entrepreneurs are the engines of innovation in their organizations. If they are not growing, their businesses eventually stall. Learning something new for no immediate purpose can actually be one of the best investments you make. Still, one major hurdle remains. Even if we want to grow, how can we do something new that is challenging without exhausting our limited reserves of willpower? (See my earlier Forbes article here: Make Your Budget Fun Again By Conserving Your Precious Willpower). Enter James Clear's Atomic Habits. This book has profoundly shaped the way I think about change. Clear argues that lasting transformation does not come from massive bursts of effort but from the consistent application of smart, sustainable strategies. You do not need more willpower. You need a better system. One of the most powerful strategies he teaches is 'habit stacking.' This means you anchor a new habit onto something you already do regularly. For example, after brushing your teeth, you practice five new signs. After your morning coffee, you read for five minutes. This builds a natural rhythm. The new habit no longer feels like a disruption. It becomes a seamless extension of your existing routine. Clear also introduces the idea of making new habits obvious, attractive, easy, and satisfying. Take my sign language learning. I leave my flashcards on the kitchen table where I will see them every day. That is obvious. I made a rule that I only need to learn three new signs a week. That makes it easy. I tie the process to my desire to grow spiritually and personally. That makes it attractive. And I give myself a small reward, like taking a quiet walk or enjoying a good cup of coffee, after I practice. That makes it satisfying. All of this applies directly to entrepreneurs. Whether you want to improve your public speaking, get in better shape, deepen your prayer life, or finally learn to code, you do not need to rely on bursts of motivation. You can build a system that helps you grow in complexity and character over time without draining your energy. And here is the deeper lesson. Growth for its own sake is good for your soul. It expands your creativity. It increases your tolerance for discomfort. It builds a reservoir of inner strength that you will inevitably need during your next business challenge. Too often, we limit our learning to what we deem 'useful.' But that utilitarian approach can actually shrink our world. When you engage in learning simply because it enriches you, you create mental and emotional space that cannot be measured in key performance indicators but pays dividends in resilience, empathy, and innovation. So here is my challenge to you. Pick something to learn that has no immediate benefit. Learn an instrument. Study an ancient language. Try your hand at watercolor. Or yes, learn sign language. Not because you have to. But because you are becoming the kind of person who grows for the joy of it. And if you are worried you do not have time or energy, remember this. You do not need willpower. You need a system. Stack your new habit onto an old one. Make it visible. Make it easy. Make it feel good. Then let time and consistency do the heavy lifting. You may be surprised by what happens when you just keep growing as a priority. My next unnecessary thing to grow in is taking care of chickens.
