I am planning my first cocktail in February with the enthusiasm of a bride-to-be evaluating wedding cake samples. It’s just that I have these two cute bottles of St. Germain, the 50ml size you find in hotel mini-bars and planes (they’re called nips). They were out of the regular 750ml bottles at the liquor store when I set out to buy supplies for a New Year’s Eve party. Shockingly, I was in charge of the signature cocktail and apparently I read the same online recipes as everyone else, many calling for St. Germain. I was told by the cashier at the liquor store it’s quite popular this time of year.
St. Germain is a French liqueur flavored with elderflowers. The flowers are picked in the French Alps and bicycled to collection stations where, using a secret family technique, they are then macerated to extract the best flavor. The taste is difficult to pin down but bears hints of pear and lychee and goes really well with champagne.
So why am I blogging about a French liqueur when I’m supposed to be abstaining from said liqueur? It’s called focusing on unwanted content--or at least I think that’s what it’s called.
Yesterday, I phoned my sister for advice on how to proceed with my blog. I felt a need to be more “scientific” in my approach. This is, after all, a kind of experiment. The reason I reached out to my sister is because she is a scientist, with a bunch of letters behind her name earned at such lofty establishments as Caltech and Harvard. My sister got the brains in the family and I would like to say that I got the looks but the beotch is also gorgeous. Because she is genetically blessed, and my big sister, I never feel guilty imposing on her.
My sister explained in no uncertain terms that what I am doing is not a scientific experiment and there is nothing I could do to make it so. Apparently, one person does not an experiment make in the world of science, which seems a little judgy to me, but ok. However, she did give me an article to read on distraction as a coping behavior.
The article is actually a chapter from Biobehavioral Foundations of Self-Regulation, G. Gendolla, M. Tops, S. Koole (Eds.), called “From Distraction to Mindfulness: Psychological and neural mechanisms of attention strategies in self-regulation,” by Lotte F. Dillen, PhD, and Esther K. Papies, PhD. The title alone made me think I’d hit the behavior-changing jackpot but I was also completely intimidated. A quick scan showed I’d be reading about bottom-up processes, negative valence, and things like the amygdala and the insula. I’m not going to try to interpret or paraphrase what I read--I don’t have a degree in psychology or the neurosciences. But I can discuss my take-away.
Along with distraction, which appears to be a short-term solution, I should practice something called “mindfulness,” which sounds suspiciously like meditation--something that, like yoga, I’ve avoided most of my life ... all that deep breathing and sitting still. But apparently, both techniques take up brain power, thus limiting my ability to focus on things like little bottles of St. Germain and how well they go with champagne.
So let’s talk about distracter tasks. In the field of science, distracter tasks often involve doing math. I’m not much for that--I prefer reading an article in Lucky magazine about, “Outfits for Every Occasion,” (December 2014 issue), but you get the idea. If you’re using your noodle, the parts of your brain that whisper sweet nothing about cocktails or chocolate cake are now competing for attention with glossy pictures of faux fur jackets. And the more complicated the task, the more disruptive it is to those sweet nothings, so maybe I should fill out that seasonal color analysis questionnaire to see if I’m a Summer or a Winter?
It must be noted that my scientists are not offering a silver bullet here; there are caveats. Distracters may interfere with long-term learning or have a rebound affect. Which brings up the strategy of mindfulness.
Mindfulness is an approach based on Buddhist practices like--as I feared--meditation. The advantage to mindfulness training is that, with time and practice, I can actually change my brain, which is huge. There is also something called “mindful attention,” which to my understanding requires you to focus on the trigger--little shiny bottles of St. Germain--and see it merely as a “mental event.” My reaction (yum!), is like a wave that passes over me and disappears. I don’t need to avoid or suppress my desire for that cocktail, I just need to focus on my reaction and dub it transitory--maybe like when I stub my toe and the pain washes over me, but eventually recedes.
Of course, mindfulness, the approach that promises more long-term success (hey, I’m changing my brain!), requires a good deal more effort than keeping a stack of magazines handy. And, because, unlike mine, these are respectful scientific experiment, there is always the disclaimer that more research is needed.
If you’re someone who has already spent considerable time reading about and mastering these techniques and are possibly offended by my dumbing down, please feel free to tweet or write your displeasure in a comment below. But here’s another thing I learned reading the chapter my sister sent me: These techniques require practice, which makes them less attractive to people not highly motivated to change. That might be me. So baby steps. And finally, something that I keep reading in a lot of these websites on distraction and substitution: There’s no one-size-fits-all solution here.
In the weeks ahead, I plan to try and suss out distracter tasks that work for me. And, while I am skeptical, I will even try mindful attention. After all, if I’m working for lasting change, it seems to me that the brain is a good place to start.
In the meantime, I'm going to take those two nips of St. Germain and hide them in a drawer. See you in February, St. Germain!
This is my year of change. I hope you join me.
Please feel free to comment below.
St. Germain is a French liqueur flavored with elderflowers. The flowers are picked in the French Alps and bicycled to collection stations where, using a secret family technique, they are then macerated to extract the best flavor. The taste is difficult to pin down but bears hints of pear and lychee and goes really well with champagne.
So why am I blogging about a French liqueur when I’m supposed to be abstaining from said liqueur? It’s called focusing on unwanted content--or at least I think that’s what it’s called.
Yesterday, I phoned my sister for advice on how to proceed with my blog. I felt a need to be more “scientific” in my approach. This is, after all, a kind of experiment. The reason I reached out to my sister is because she is a scientist, with a bunch of letters behind her name earned at such lofty establishments as Caltech and Harvard. My sister got the brains in the family and I would like to say that I got the looks but the beotch is also gorgeous. Because she is genetically blessed, and my big sister, I never feel guilty imposing on her.
My sister explained in no uncertain terms that what I am doing is not a scientific experiment and there is nothing I could do to make it so. Apparently, one person does not an experiment make in the world of science, which seems a little judgy to me, but ok. However, she did give me an article to read on distraction as a coping behavior.
The article is actually a chapter from Biobehavioral Foundations of Self-Regulation, G. Gendolla, M. Tops, S. Koole (Eds.), called “From Distraction to Mindfulness: Psychological and neural mechanisms of attention strategies in self-regulation,” by Lotte F. Dillen, PhD, and Esther K. Papies, PhD. The title alone made me think I’d hit the behavior-changing jackpot but I was also completely intimidated. A quick scan showed I’d be reading about bottom-up processes, negative valence, and things like the amygdala and the insula. I’m not going to try to interpret or paraphrase what I read--I don’t have a degree in psychology or the neurosciences. But I can discuss my take-away.
Along with distraction, which appears to be a short-term solution, I should practice something called “mindfulness,” which sounds suspiciously like meditation--something that, like yoga, I’ve avoided most of my life ... all that deep breathing and sitting still. But apparently, both techniques take up brain power, thus limiting my ability to focus on things like little bottles of St. Germain and how well they go with champagne.
So let’s talk about distracter tasks. In the field of science, distracter tasks often involve doing math. I’m not much for that--I prefer reading an article in Lucky magazine about, “Outfits for Every Occasion,” (December 2014 issue), but you get the idea. If you’re using your noodle, the parts of your brain that whisper sweet nothing about cocktails or chocolate cake are now competing for attention with glossy pictures of faux fur jackets. And the more complicated the task, the more disruptive it is to those sweet nothings, so maybe I should fill out that seasonal color analysis questionnaire to see if I’m a Summer or a Winter?
It must be noted that my scientists are not offering a silver bullet here; there are caveats. Distracters may interfere with long-term learning or have a rebound affect. Which brings up the strategy of mindfulness.
Mindfulness is an approach based on Buddhist practices like--as I feared--meditation. The advantage to mindfulness training is that, with time and practice, I can actually change my brain, which is huge. There is also something called “mindful attention,” which to my understanding requires you to focus on the trigger--little shiny bottles of St. Germain--and see it merely as a “mental event.” My reaction (yum!), is like a wave that passes over me and disappears. I don’t need to avoid or suppress my desire for that cocktail, I just need to focus on my reaction and dub it transitory--maybe like when I stub my toe and the pain washes over me, but eventually recedes.
Of course, mindfulness, the approach that promises more long-term success (hey, I’m changing my brain!), requires a good deal more effort than keeping a stack of magazines handy. And, because, unlike mine, these are respectful scientific experiment, there is always the disclaimer that more research is needed.
If you’re someone who has already spent considerable time reading about and mastering these techniques and are possibly offended by my dumbing down, please feel free to tweet or write your displeasure in a comment below. But here’s another thing I learned reading the chapter my sister sent me: These techniques require practice, which makes them less attractive to people not highly motivated to change. That might be me. So baby steps. And finally, something that I keep reading in a lot of these websites on distraction and substitution: There’s no one-size-fits-all solution here.
In the weeks ahead, I plan to try and suss out distracter tasks that work for me. And, while I am skeptical, I will even try mindful attention. After all, if I’m working for lasting change, it seems to me that the brain is a good place to start.
In the meantime, I'm going to take those two nips of St. Germain and hide them in a drawer. See you in February, St. Germain!
This is my year of change. I hope you join me.
Please feel free to comment below.
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