<div style="background-color: #ffffff; padding: 10px 5px 10px 10px; border: 0px 0px 0px 0px; border-style: solid; border-color: #ffffff; border-radius: 0px; margin: 20px 0px 30px 0px; width: 700px; height: 110px;"><hr />
<p style="text-align: left;"><strong><img class="alignleft wp-image-8151 size-full" src="http://andrewhallam.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/bookatelogosm.jpg" alt="bookatelogosm" width="90" height="82" /><span style="font-size: 20px;">Best Hotel Price - Guaranteed</span></strong></p>
<p>Bookatel instantly checks the booking prices of all the top travel deal websites on the internet including Expedia, Hotels.com. Check 100s of prices from just one site.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span style="font-size: 16px;"><strong><a href="http://andrewhallam.com/p/bookatelt1">Save $$$$ on Hotel Room Prices</a></strong></span></span></p>
Smoothly picking up speed, I glided down the running track earlier today, approaching a pace that I figured was equivalent to a 6 minute mile.
That was the goal: to run a 6 minute mile.
After one lap, I doubled over, heaving from the effort. And as strange as it sounds, I think that one 90 second lap cracked one of my ribs.
Four laps = 1 mile.
One lap = a cracked rib + pain = a bad attitude.
So my MG factor is running near the top of its spectrum. What’s an MG factor? It’s my scientific term for “Moaning and Groaning”. I ache—and I’m not happy about it.
What I’m going to say next might be pretty controversial. But I’m going to say it anyway:
People are born with an internal MG factor, and there’s not much they can do about that. To summarize what psychologist Daniel Goleman suggests, we’re hard-wired to a degree of moaning and groaning—or a lack of it. For some people, their MG factor puts them in the old Winnie-the Poo- “Eeyore” state most of the time. No matter what’s going on in their lives, they complain. They’re as much fun as an infected ingrown hair.
Based on what I recall of Goleman’s book Social Intelligence, each individual has their own range of happiness. Imagine a factor of 100 being ecstasy, and a score of 50 or below representing depression.
Goleman suggests that people are going to operate within the same range no matter what happens to them. Say you average a level of 75 on this fictional scale of mine.
Lose your legs in an automobile accident and, according to Goleman, within about a year, (after the initial emotional devastation) you’ll find yourself averaging close to 75 on the same scale.
Win the lottery instead, and after a year, you’ll find yourself operating at the 75 point level—just as you were before.
I remember when I first cracked $10,000 with my investment portfolio. It was a goal of mine, and doing it felt pretty good. But after a month or so, I was as satisfied with $10,000 as I had previously been with $8000.
Then I cracked six figures, and it was the same thing.
Seven figures? Done.
There’s no more day to day satisfaction derived from having more than a million dollars.
I’m living within the same range of “happiness” that I was operating in 5, 10, 15, 20 years ago.
And I’m lucky. I think my “happiness range” is higher than most people’s, so I can thank my “wiring”.
This week, at work, the topic of conversation on everyone’s lips pertained to a certain “roll-back” of financial benefits. Really smart people were complaining about it, and I’m sure their moaning and groaning lessened the quality of their workweek.
But here’s the thing. If those same people weren’t moaning and groaning about the financial roll-back, they’d be moaning and groaning about something else. That’s just the way we’re wired.
It’s the rare person who can value what’s important, what isn’t important, and count the blessings of the things they have, rather than dwelling on the things they don’t have.
If you’re able to put things in perspective, perhaps you’re high on Goleman’s social intelligence scale.
I hope to join you—as soon as I stop bitching about this cracked rib.