How much do others’ emotions influence you? Are you more likely to sway them or them to sway you?
For most of my life, I have been a chameleon in human form. I’d jump into a new culture and adopt their accent, language, habits, and tics without even knowing it. After just a few months in Tanzania, when I called my family for Christmas, my aunt got on the phone and didn’t believe that it was me because of my thick East African accent. When I say she didn’t believe it was me, she seriously did not believe it was me.
As I’ve studied emotions for the last four years, I’ve noticed that I also absorb a lot of other people’s emotions. If someone were frustrated, I’d start to get frustrated. If angry, I’d get angry. If worried, well, I wouldn’t get so worried, I’d often tell them, “Don’t worry,” make them more worried, and then get frustrated. Someone pokes me long enough and I’ll get annoyed.
With the onslaught of media, through television, computers, and smartphones, now I don’t just absorb the emotions of those around me but those on the other side of the world. I feel the anger and pain of those on Twitter, I feel the jealousy of those on Facebook, I feel the cynicism of people on television, and I feel the joy of the little puppy on YouTube.
I’m being injected more and more with other people’s emotions and often these emotions are more related to pain than pleasure. Telling me to distrust this person. Or hate that person. Or protest against this person. What happened to joy?
I’m starting to realize that perhaps I need to spread the emotions I want the world to experience. If I want the world to feel calm, I have to feel calm. If I want the world to feel confident, I have to feel confident. If I want the world to feel joy, I have to feel joy.
Wow. This makes it a whole lot easier. Instead of worrying about how everybody else is feeling, I can just focus on how I’m feeling. I can’t control if people are going to throw anger at me, or jealousy, or sadness, but I can focus on receiving those emotions and quickly processing them so that I can throw joy back towards them. Almost like that old, “I’m rubber and you are glue, whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you,” but with a twist that instead of bouncing off me, it comes into me, gets beautified, and then gets given back in a tastier form. I’m not sure that metaphor makes sense, but oh well.