Wednesday, October 25, 2017

A Note on Shared Experiences (with a smidgen of patrick dempsey)


Given the choice between going on a date with super sexy film and TV star Patrick Dempsey or to dinner with a group of close-knit friends, most of us would probably choose Mr. McDreamy. (I mean, come on, be honest here. Look at this dude.)




After all, your close friends will always be there, but imagine how cool it would be to tell them about your one-night long escapade with a beautiful celebrity. They’d love to hear all the details, and no doubt it’d be a story to tell over and over again. Even years from now when we’re 40 years old and our idea of a good time is going out to Texas Roadhouse for $4.25 sangria margaritas on happy hour… right? (Yes, seriously. One day we might actually be old and boring. Also, yes, seriously. Sangria margaritas for $4.25 are a thing.)


Although we all might crave to tell extraordinarily amazing stories over mediocre steak dinners years from now, studies actually show that having these types of radical stories is more detrimental than we might believe. Psychological Science published an article explaining how amazing experiences like dating a movie star do not cultivate deeper relationships with those close to us like friends and family. Instead, they tend to create a chasm between people, making it harder to connect in interpersonal relationships. This alienation occurs simply because the friends who gather at Table Mountain Inn for margaritas and nachos every Wednesday night simply can’t relate to their college friend who makes red carpet appearances with a boyfriend old enough to be her dad. Conversely, chatting and laughing about the horrible mechanics professor we used to hate serves as a shared memory between them. The shared memory nurtures the friendly relationships even though the memory itself is not out of the ordinary or extravagant in any way. Naturally, this derives a theory that shared experiences and day-to-dayness cultivate deep and meaningful relationships with others much better than elaborate experiences like getting abducted by aliens, winning the lottery, or dating a former Grey’s Anatomy heartthrob (spoiler alert: McDreamy dies). Okay I promise I’m done talking about Patrick Dempsey. Point is, shared experiences are oftentimes more meaningful and worthwhile in regards to building lasting relationships with friends, friends of friends, and not so friendly friends.

            Every week in class we are given the opportunity to connect with one another and share our experiences. Earlier this month, however, we were given a unique opportunity that should be addressed, appreciated, and shared further. We got to experience the beauty of breathing together. One of the most fundamental, mundane tasks we can do as human beings brought us together deeper than any virtual reality demo or 5 minutes of silence or 3-scene skit has done this semester. Our oxygen has been shared through time from our parents and grand parents all the way back to our ancient sapien ancestors and beyond et cetera ad infinitum. The same oxygen that fuels harmful protozoa in our bodies is the same oxygen that antibodies need to protect us. Oxygen is the ultimate shared resource, uniting everything under our atmosphere in more profound ways than we usually think about.
Furthermore, our breathwork exercise itself classifies as evidence that we are all united under oxygen. Energy bounced from one corner of the room to the next through the air which served as a catalyst for transporting emotions. One second we were quiet, perhaps a little nervous, as we slid the blindfolds over our eyes. The next, we were hysterically laughing in unison. Our bellies ached, the tears flowed, all while we breathed the same life-giving oxygen. Then, only a couple moments later we were crying, some were sobbing. The energy in the room permeated through each of us through our individual breaths to create an experience that we can all cherish and share as our own. Our one experience. Oxygen, such a simple and necessary molecule, bound us to one another in a beautiful matrimony. What is even more profound is that after class ended, our connection was not stripped from us. Our trust and compassion for one another grew through our breath. Still, we are here, our roots only growing deeper and more tangled. While we may all study different disciplines, live different lifestyles, and set different goals, we have shared something that has united us more fundamentally than others can see or feel. So while our branches and limbs may be growing in opposite directions, our roots will remain intertwined deeper than anyone else knows. Who knew that a 1 hour workshop on the most fundamental human instinct could have such prolific outcomes? It goes to show that a shared experience, no matter how seemingly menial it may be, can have magnificent and beautiful consequences.


So next time someone asks the question about who you would choose to have dinner with, living or not, I urge you to think about the most meaningful response. Having dinner with Alanis Morissette or an alien or Abraham Lincoln or God Himself may seem like the best immediate answer, but the most fulfilling choice may be with your little brother or your parents or your classmates, where you can gossip about how horrible mechanics is, was, and always will be.

5 comments:

  1. I agree with you, in the sense that when attempting to cultivate a deep relationship with those close to you (or anyone, really) it is easier to do this when you have shared experiences to discuss, experience (haha) and reflect upon. When you consider the fact that some of the oldest people on Earth are surrounded by close and meaningful relationships (as proposed in this TED Talk [https://bluezones.com/2017/10/face-face-interactions-not-facebook-connections-impact-health-longevity/]) it is easy to deduce that maybe we should stop striving for spontaneous, extraordinary, and amazing experiences; if we can not encounter them with those closest to us. However, what if you have a passion for sky-diving? What if, at the same time, you desire to hike the Himalayas and immerse yourself in the wonders of the Deep Blue? What if you have a dream to go backpacking through the back country of Colorado, and are determined to summit every 14er in the Centennial State? What if you desire to do all of these things, yet everyone that you know and love is absolutely terrified of hiking, or swimming, or sky diving? Unlikely situation, I know; but if this were the case, would you avoid these things for fear of ostracizing yourself from those relationships you hold dear? Or, is there another element of fulfillment which comes from within (and is possibly sparked by close relationships too), as opposed to being the result of deep relationships?

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  2. Simply beautiful. I too felt a profound set of connection that night. I wondered how many groups of people exist that would be comfortable engaging in something like that together. I think of my roommates, friends from my major, friends from other clubs... I would not have had the same level of comfort engaging in this exercise with them as I did with everyone in this class. Roel Snieder once said something to me that bears repeating here. He asserted that McBride student's greatest asset is not their cross-disciplinary expertise or international experience, but rather their openness. Openness to different ways of ways of living, different modes of thought, different ideas... It was truly humbling to have such an intimate experience with a group of people and be left feeling free of judgement and honestly heard. Thank you all.

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  3. What a great piece. I loved how you balanced the deeper parts of the breath workshop with the Patrick Dempsey humor (and yes, he does look pretty fine ;). The bit that struck me the most about your piece was when you talked about the need for shared experiences competing with the desire to do crazy, unique things--like go on dates with movie stars. Your argument makes a lot of sense, but I too had the thoughts that Marquis expressed in his reply. Is it worth suppressing one’s desire to do “cool” things that friends may not be able to relate to? I would say no. I find immense fulfillment in doing things that some of my friends will never relate to. But discussing these events has to be tempered with a certain amount of awareness about how these events are perceived; talking about your adventures might not be well perceived among a friend group who does not have the same opportunities, no matter how many sangrita margaritas are consumed during the conversation. This awareness of which situations are shared and which are not is crucial to maintaining a good relationship. In other words, I think it’d be just fine to go on a date with Patrick Dempsey--as long as you don’t talk too much about it.

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  4. First, as a public service announcement, I would like to share that On the Border also has frozen sangria margaritas for under five dollars. Second, I am so excited to see a similar experience coming from the breath workshop as my own. Personally, I didn’t experience any of the limb heaviness, tingling, or sparkling that I had expected, and I found this to be very disappointing. Going into the breath workshop, these physical experiences are really what I assumed the point to be. But it is exactly what you described, the sense of community, that has had the largest impact on me since the workshop. McBride classes always get close. We can’t help it, we’re talkative people. But when was the last time you laid down with people you only met several weeks prior and just breathed together? It was so simple and so beautiful.

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  5. Emily, thank you for reminding me of the important things in life: community, $4.25 margaritas, McDreamy, and oxygen. The breathwork workshop was an amazing experience in that it somehow managed to make us all feel the same emotions in unison, and that is something which is not easily explained by science alone. It is interesting to think that I could win all of the awards and meet all of the cool celebrities in the world, and that none of that would matter as much as sharing a quiet evening with friends, wondering what the heck is happening to me as I laugh uncontrollably. That was a very unique experience!

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