Are We Truly Selfish Or Kind?

Writing

Altruism – “Having or showing an unselfish concern for the welfare of others.”

Do you think you’re a nice person? And by this, self-validation in the form of saying “thank you” to the cashier and “hello” to your neighbor I’m afraid doesn’t quite cut it.

This question springs to my mind in light of a recent conversation I had with a work colleague, as a previous psychology student he divulged in a mixture of both his past successful and failing science experiments within the field.

One which stood out had to be the case where he intended to a stage a robbery, not by using actors or people who were atleast aware of actions to be taken upon them. Oh no, he was aiming to use the element of surprise and stage robberies on innocent ill-prepared passer-bys. The psychology experiment wasn’t to analyse jumpscare reactions, it was in his words to put to test the behaviors of the witnessing bystanders. In other words, would someone come to the rescue of the person who has just been robbed? Thereby testing to what extent people exhibit altruism. Do you think you would go to their rescue in the example above?

Whether you would or not, or whether anyone would  for that matter, the experiment never came to fruition, no surprises as to why. One sniff downwind that one of the school’s students aimed to scare the sh*t out of members of the public and the study was shutdown. Who wants a pass in psychology when it comes at the cost of being passed a 10 year jail sentence for manslaughter because the test subject suffered a heart attack?

As I digested the story of his scientific setback, it got me thinking – are we really as kind as we like to think?

Moving away from human beings for just a moment, I recently came across this video of altruism being exhibited in the bird species – the African grey parrot.

Here you can see that although bird one does not receive a treat for indirectly facilitating in the passing of a token to the human hand by passing it to the bird that does, it still chooses to continue the action despite no reward. A selfless act if you ask me! And likewise, when the birds switched places, the same was shown, they continued to help get the token to the human hand even when they themselves were not rewarded with food and the other bird was:

Courtesy of The Scientist

So where am I going with this? Well, if birds have the capacity for selflessness, then so should humans, right? Afterall, we live in a society, there is a need to be social, to create bonds and work co-cooperatively, so surely it’s in our best interests to look out for eachother, no?

So why might we want to help eachother?

Neuroscience? –  The reward centers in the brain are activated when we carry out an altruistic act [source: Hinterthuer].

But isn’t this in itself a selfish thing? I help you because it makes me feel better?

Survival technique – Cooperative Breeding? – offspring receive care not only from their parents, but also from additional group members, often called helpers. As Burkart suggests in Psypost: “When our hominin ancestors began to raise their offspring cooperatively, they laid the foundation for both our altruism and our exceptional cognition.”

So perhaps deep down helping others really means helping ourselves.

 

Poetry: Change

Writing

A leopard can change its spots.

But cheetahs never do.

Changing your mind is one thing.

But changing your heart, is about as easy as making a mountain move.

 

2020

A new year, a new you.

This year will be different.

A false promise? Or does here lie the truth?

 

Do you need to change your perspective?

Moreso than actually changing you?

Do you need to take more time reflecting?

Than taking time, faking, being too big for your boots?

 

Happy New Year To You, Not I

Writing

I hope you’re having a pleasant start to the new year, if not then I hope revelling in my misfortunes will have you grinning from ear to ear like a Cheshire cat. 

 

Having just about set foot inside my grotty London flat on the 1st Jan after a rather heart-palpitation inducing flight from Northern Ireland to visit the fam over the holidays, I’m greeted by a bold red-fronted letter of pure threat. Who could it be? My stalker’s love letters normally arrive for me on a Friday, it’s several days too early I pondered. Ripping it open in a fashion much similar to the scenes in Alien vs Predator where the Predator thrusts its hand into the victims stomach and then rips his spine out through his……we’ll not go there. Simply put, I open the letter with a hard swallow and what meets my eyes is the unwelcome invitation of a £1,000 fine coming my way if I so choose to abstain from paying for a TV license. Do you think I could get away with saying I don’t watch TV or is that a bit weak? I double blink in the hope that I just had a moment of utter delusion, as if the more I blinked the more zeroes would disappear from the fine. Just to be clear this is a warning – I’m yet to be fined, and have infact bought a TV License to cover my back for my endless bingeing of Botched, Louis Theroux and Sugar Rush (wait this is Netflix)? Anyhow it was just a miscommunication, I’m not keeping tabs on what channels charge me my hard earned money to become transfixed on the latest terrestrially televised topic. Why should I be? I have better things to do, like spend my wads of cash on the important things in life, such as scratchcards and Cuban cigars. 

 

As if this wasn’t enough, I also had a letter grace me from a magistrates court summoning me to appear infront of a judge for……..

 

I shouldn’t be divulging this information, for you’ll probably think I’m some sort of conman, it’s not like I intentionally forget to pay these bills, I just DO forget sometimes. Anyhow it’s all paid up now, besides it’s not like I’m tax evading millions (give it time). 

 

I’m off to buy a shredder for my letters, Happy New Year to you! 

Poem: Winter

Writing

 

Cheeks flushed crimson,

Embers crackle,

As the smoke billows beyond the seams of the Oak smoked door.

 

A faint glow from within the forest,

The little cottage.

Offering temporary relief,

From a permanent frost.

 

Brave the wind, the rain and the snow.

A feat too difficult for now.

Yet a necessity for

Tomorrow.

 

She Threatened To Smash My Face In

Writing

Who walks into a shop to buy some Christmas baubles for their tree and instead has ‘you’re a f*cking b*tch’ screamed into their face as ‘Jingle Bell’s’ plays in the distant background? Only yours truly ofcourse!

Nothing reminds me more of the season of giving than being on the receiving end of the odd curse word, tirade of insults and that all too familiar tsunami of spit. It’s never a dull moment if you’re me in the shops I can assure you of that.

Let’s rewind for a moment, it’s Friday, everyone loves a Friday (unless of course you work weekends, then it sucks to be you). And what better way to kick off the start of the weekend, and the start of your Christmas shopping, than with a wander around overpriced shops? Doing exactly this, last Friday afternoon was rather boring, yet in doing so, I was content within my mundane little bubble until it was abruptly popped by an aggressive ram to the back of my Achilles heels by a stranger’s pram. The force so strong it made the Trojan Horse look like ‘My Little Pony’. I ignore this ‘accident’ from a fellow shopper, perhaps they had a spasm, slipped on a banana peel, had a moment of utter delusionment and unknowingly forgot their manners. And thus, giving them the benefit of the doubt, I continue to rummage through the tat on the shop floor.

No sooner had the pain dissipated from my heels than had it returned again, like an unwanted smell wafting, which you somehow find yourself consistently down wind of. This time I grit my teeth, crumple a pasty paper mache angel decoration in my palm to a pulp and turn to the perpetrator of this unforgivable act.

I thought pigs couldn’t push prams? I say internally as I give the doting new mother a look like she’s just killed my family pet. No amount of make up disguises an ugly personality, with her overlined lips she seethed through gritted teeth for me to ‘not bother giving her dirty looks as she said ”sorry”. To which I blankly stated ‘I wouldn’t, if your pram push wasn’t intentional’. And to this she erupted like a flantulent St Helens. Hotheaded and rough af, she proceeded to storm around the shop like a bull in a china shop spitting verbal abuse at me from left, right and centre. ‘F*cking b*tch this, f*cking b*tch that’, I wish I’d brought my swear jar for this lovely lady.

Before I’d even had a chance to register what was even being said to me, I watched in shock as other shoppers stood from a distance with both caution and concern at the behavior of this show up. I look around me, I too am in shock at this individual’s escalation from 0 to 100, afterall she was the one who rammed me. Eager to diffuse the situation, my attention turned to try and find the shop assistant before matters truly got out of hand. I spotted the manager but on first glance thought she was a mannequin thanks to her lack of expression, concern or action for what was unfolding before her vacant eyes. I pleaded for her to call security as I truly feared for my safety as the headless chicken of a mother hen rampaged through the store, a hurricane chicaning, refusing to relent. The shop manager,  to my utter astonishment, proceeded to flat out tell me that I was making the situation worse. ‘How could a mother with a pram do you any harm? I’m not calling security’. Was her phrasing. I’m sorry but just because you’ve a pram doesn’t making you bloody Mother Theresa. You can’t judge books by their covers. With this I was truly deflated, my safety means nothing to nobody. Had this aggressive individual spoke to the manager or one of her colleagues how I was spoken to, getting up into my face at a point,  I’d like to hope she would’ve had the respect and decency to call security in that instance. But for me, just a ‘shopper’ I’m somehow the problem?

‘Well Merry Christmas to you ya filthy animal! Your shop sells cheap tat anyway!’ I should’ve said, yet with an overwhelming feeling of disappointment and sadness at the event which had just unfolded I left the shop several minutes after my aggressor stormed out at the sound yet unfortunately not the appearance of ‘security’ at my request.

Sitting on a nearby bench to the shop I reflected and wondered had my actions caused such an explosive aftermath? Or can you truly be caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time? Should I have just not turned around when she bumped into me? Was it really an accident?

How can you not turn around if you feel a thump to your legs? If it was an accident why did she do it twice and at such force? Besides from the way she reacted to my turn around said it all. She was quite simply someone with no manners. If she wanted passed, couldn’t she have said ‘excuse me’? But at the end of the day it’s not my job to teach someone manners, and unfortunately the reality is is that sometimes you may find yourself on the receiving end of this. With that aside what hurt me the most was the lack of consideration given to me by the shop manager. Whether I’m a customer who enters your shop to buy a £1 item or £1,000 item, shouldn’t I be treated with the same respect? Isn’t that what all companies looking your custom want to portray, so you shop with them? That they care for you? The takeaway message from that event is that you need to take care of yourself. Not in a  selfish way but have some respect for yourself and your own well-being. Know that how you handle difficult situations says alot about your character aswell as the others involved.

I hope you don’t have the experience I had too often, and that Santa brings you something a little better than a chorus of cussing this festive season.

Merry Christmas! x

 

 

 

Poem: La Familia

Writing

La Familia,

Blood’s thicker than water.

A ‘V’ for Vendetta,

If any were to ‘runneth’ over.

 

Sibling feuding subsides,

Eyes are dried as,

The belly of the beast rolls over in submission.

Fist fights in a blink of an eye become,

Nothing more than a memory of augmented vision.

 

La Famila,

The Family,

The Clan.

Does the man make the family,

Or does the family make the man?

P*ss Off Christmas!

Writing

No sooner has the Grim Reaper even had a chance to pull out his scythe from under his cloak for the Halloween happenings than has every man and his dog cracked open the bottle of eggnog whilst covering outdated Christmas carols in the key of ‘sounds like I’m being choked out in a headlock’.

Christmas comes sooner and sooner with each passing year, and with that, my patience gets thinner and thinner!

Not content with keeping the festivities wrapped up in the comfort of our own homes, as low and behold the shops are at it too! Their plethora of pompous plastic propaganda is quite simply preposterous! Crowing their untimely festive ‘hello’ in the form of silver tinsel, shiny baubles and ofcourse the Christmas cards which you gift to the neighbours you don’t so much as blink an eye at the during the other 364 days of the year.

As the Santa sign with his harem of reindeer in tow swings carelessly above the heads of the unwitting shoppers who stock up like apocalypse preppers below, the shelf stockers are fast replenishing the sold out supply of extra wide aluminum foil and the Christmas crackers that do the toenail clippers. Cheery Christmas jargon is sprawled across the shop floor like your aunt across the king-size during the night of your cousin’s conception. Mid-November really has that festive feel about it, doesn’t it?

Sing along shenanigans, sherries, shandies,
Family fights, half necked-back brandies.

It’s all kicking off in Autumn 2019!

Not that I’m yearning to be the female version of Scrooge this year but is there really anything wrong with wanting the festive cheer to not start early? If Christmas can start early then why can’t the purge?

Can Christmas really start too soon, I hear you squeak? Yes! When it leads to a country’s recession! Starting Christmas that little bit earlier means putting your hand into your pocket that little bit deeper. Which means you’ll be giving up that kidney to the black market that little bit faster. And let’s face it, we all need as many kidneys as we can get our grubby hands on during the later months of the year.

Blowing your pension fund on secret Santa presents is all good if you’ve recently won the lotto or bumped off your wealthy mum and dad to gain access to their will, but for the rest of us unlucky law abiding citizens, Christmas just puts the ‘Christ’ in our mouths everytime we pull out our wallets.

Soon the case will be that Christmas officially ends on the 26th Dec and officially starts again on the 1 January the following year.

I might as well wish you a Merry Christmas now, in advance of Christmas 2020 for the way things are going, so here:

 

Merry Christmas ya filthy animal!

 

Poem: Anger

Writing

Teeth grit like vice grips on steel.

The metallic hiss rings unforgivingly long.

I raise my hands to the air

Empty handed I surrender.

Empty handed I look for answers.

Yet none rings true for this.

Like a swinging pendulum

I’m hot and then cold

Impatience – an unwelcome friend yet makes itself all too known.

Trying to pacify myself is like

Trying to run backwards up a hill.

Continuously falling downwards.

Makes for a bitter

Pill.

To swallow.

I wallow,

I’m self pity.

Woe be to me for I have seen more tragedy,

In my little mind’s eye than you’ve seen wrongs over rights.

More sleepless nights,

As the hag rides,

Drive bys

Seem like nursery rhymes

Compared the stories I rewind at bedtime.

Poem: Timeless Beauty

Writing

Timeless beauty.

What a contradiction.

Will you still love me,

When my hair loses thickness?

When my skin starts to wrinkle?

When my youth is but memory in the distance?

 

Time.

It’s bittersweet.

Cruel to the appearance.

Yet kind to the mind.

Stripping away my pride in my looks,

To expose an endearment for the memories I share with you. 

 

Love is not lust.

And lust is not love.

So do you choose a beautiful person,

Or someone blessed solely with looks from above?

 

Poem: Time

Writing

 

Time.

Moving passed like 

Dew dripping from the leaves of

The waxiest cuticles.

My hands,

Gnarled, close tight,

Around the memories,

Uprooted by those of time.

 

Time,

A spectre of the night,

Time, invisible to the eye

Of even the most profound inspectors. 

I suspect.

Expecting time to wait for,

Any man.

Is like expecting a hug on

No man’s land.

 

Time,

And time again we

Try to cheat it’s nimble ways.

Like sacrificial lambs to the slaughter we,

Try to resort to cosmetics to

Bathe in youth’s fountain forever

 

Keeping Fit (Minus The Gym)

Writing

Not one for the gym, I like to think of alternative methods of keeping myself ‘fit’ (using the term loosely). Below are some ideas if you are like myself and find yourself in the deep dark hinterland of monotony when forcing yourself to run on the local gym’s treadmill, or if you’re just after something different then have a look at the below:

 

  1. Squash

 

If you ever want to get back at that ‘friend’ who never paid you back for the drink you bought them then take them to a tiny squash court. Here you can smack the ball for all your worth, hitting them where the sun don’t shine, all while playing it off as an accident.

red woman girl white

Photo by Public Domain Pictures on Pexels.com

 

2.  Dance

You knew I had to put this one in, in my opinion there’s no better way to work up a sweat than by throwing some serious shapes. Whether you book a dance class or a night at the silent disco, either way you’re guaranteed a workout that you don’t even notice that you’re doing!

 

woman standing near group of people

Photo by Matan Segev on Pexels.com

 

  1. Martial Arts

Having experienced the combative world of Taekwondo, I can honestly say that during this time I was the fittest I’ve ever been. Even if you’re not into fighting, the pure technique and skill of the movements in martial arts overall is a bonus you earn ontop of simply keeping fit. From Judo to karate, Muay Thai to Jiu Jitsu .there are so many choices.

 

action adult athletes battle

Photo by Coco Championship on Pexels.com

 

  1. Lacrosse

If you don’t fancy a hunchback from hockey then try this other fun stick wielding game, fast paced and agile makes it enjoyable, plus it’s a team sport so you’ve got socialising as a major plus as well.

 

lacross player battling on the field

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

  1. Zorbing

Yes, it is infact a sport believe it or not, who wouldn’t want to be trapped inside a giant inflatable ball being hurled down a grassy knoll at 100 miles an hour?

ball ball shaped blur bubble

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

 

We aren’t all made for gyms, and that’s ok, there’s a form of fitness out there for everyone!

The Time I Almost Went Blind

Writing

I think back to this horrific memory as a result of having incredibly dry and itchy eyes for what felt like every living second of work today. If you’re familiar with my other post about an unwelcomed eye infection I had last year, then you’ll be familiar with the fact that I’ve had some nasty little issues with my eyes at certain points in my life.

 

Today in work, as I sat cross-eyed, with the tears streaming down my face trying to type ‘how to cook egg fried rice’ into my google search I think back to the following event involving my eyes which left me scarred for life:

 

About 7 years ago I was in the garden of my family home in Northern Ireland, hanging out the washing as any enslaved child would do for the enjoyment of their parents, when all of a sudden I started to lose my peripheral vision.

 

Initially it began in the rims of my sight but soon before I knew it my whole vision was blurry. The only way I could describe it would be like if you were to open your eyes in the ocean’s salty water and everything appears ‘fizzy’ if that makes sense. I can only use this example because I being the idiot that I am have tried this. So with my vision suddenly disintegrating I scream to my sister who is too busy hanging up my dad’s tighty whities that I couldn’t see.

 

Thinking it was a joke she continued pegging the odd socks to the clothes line. I was adamant I was losing my vision, my parents were out of the house at this stage so it was just me and my younger sister in the garden. I continued to shriek with panic until finally she knew that I wasn’t joking for once.

 

The two of us ran inside and I scrambled to reach for the phone as my vision was getting ‘fizzier’ and ‘fizzier’, I couldn’t see the numbers by this stage, I think only 2 minutes had went by since my vision was normal. My sister rand my dad who consequently sped home so fast I could smell the burning rubber on his tyres. By the time he got back which was approx 15 minutes after we alerted him,  my sight had returned to me. I should’ve probably rang an ambulance but being a kid I didn’t know what to do, I just panicked.

 

At the opticians a few days later they found no real reasoning for it but I have one of my own.

 

My phone.

 

It just so happens that a few weeks prior to this scare I had just gotten my first touch screen phone. I felt like the bee’s knees and loved looking at everything from the latest music videos to social media all within 5 millimetres if my face. I literally never sat it down, this dangerous recipe of being continuously on my phone coupled with holding it so close to my eyes, led to major strain being put on my eyes as a result in my opinion. I believe overuse of the device led to my temporary blindness.

 

I think back to the event and part of me finds it humourous but another part of me is genuinely cautious of eye strain. It’s so easy for us to spend copious amounts of times on our electronic devices and although opticians may feel that it’s the biology of the eye and age that make it deteriorate overtime, part of me still feels overworking the eye plays a part.

 

Even if I’m wrong, we all know that using our phones and laptops for sustained periods of time does cause discomfort to our eyes, even if only on a temporary basis.

 

I actively think about the amount if time I spend on my devices. And put in effort to ensure I don’t spend too long. I think we all should, what use is getting a high score on candy crush when you’re damaging your body in the process?

Poem: Time

Writing

We think about the future,

So that we can enjoy its ‘present’.

But like a dollar bill drifting in the wind.

We never do quite catch it.

 

We worry that it’s not on our side.

Like it’s going by too quickly.

Asking ‘where does it fly’?

 

Time – isn’t it a peculiar concept?

Does it exist or does it not?

As humans have we just ‘created’ it?

Or is it time that created us?

 

We can’t rewind the clocks,

And we certainly can’t speed them up.

Why don’t we just get lost in the moment?

And not worry about the time that we’ve lost?

 

Poem: Lust

Writing

I love you,

More than I love myself.

Likened to a fly in a black widow’s web,

I entangle myself.

 

In your lust.

 

I obey you.

Favouring your plans.

Dismissing my own in the blink of an eye.

To keep you.

 

I lose myself.

 

I fear you,

I fear that you have blinded me.

I barely know myself anymore.

Is it me or is it us?

 

Who’s to trust?

 

In your lust,

I lose myself.

Who’s to trust?

 

Can You Be Too Ambitious?

Writing

Can you be too ambitious in life? By being so are you just setting yourself up for overwhelming levels of stress and bottomless pitfalls? Or  by setting higher goals are you growing your skillset further and achieving more than you ever could even if you shoot and miss the target?

 

I ask this question because I feel like this alot, I feel like I’m maybe trying to do too much at one time, I struggle with organisation and procrastination eventhough I have a list of ‘ambitions’ as long as my arm that I ‘want’ to ‘/start’ doing. Spending alot of time thinking and planning and little time doing is my biggest issue. It really is a game of psychology, perhaps because I’m giving myself so many goals all at once I’m subconsciously feeling overwhelmed by the sheer volume of tasks at hand and so turn my head to making a stab at any one ambition in particular.

 

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with having multiple ambitions, and I don’t like the phrase ‘jack of all trades, master of none’ but maybe when applied to the concept of time it is infact best to master one skill/ambition and then start incorporating another rather than tackling several simultaneously.

 

Another reason why maybe some of us find it difficult to keep on track with our goals is because we lead by the stick and not the carrot, by this I’m referring to the metaphor for the use of reward and punishment to bring about a desired behaviour. It’s a depiction of a donkey either being hit with the stick or chasing a carrot dangles infront of him in order to get him to move forward. For the most part we lead by the threat of something happening e.g. if we don’t do X then something bad will happen, and as a result we put ourselves under huge amounts of stress which may lead us to quit our efforts at reaching our goals. For example – if I don’t nail this presentation my boss will demote me, I need to earn above 50k per year or my wife will leave me, as opposed to if I nail this presentation my boss could promote me, my wife loves me for me not my money, I’m going to aim to earn above 50k to treat her more not to keep her!

 

I don’t think we reward ourselves enough when we do make progress towards our goals or even when we achieve them, maybe we think reaching the goal is the reward but it seems that no sooner have we reached one goal than are we back on the journey of trying to reach another. Perhaps we should give ourselves a pat on the back more often for even the small steps in the right direction. This would definitely help keep the motivation to reach a goal.

 

Bottom line is, I think it’s great to have ambitions, and even better if we start working towards them!

 

I wish you all the best with yours!

ASMR – The Weird Addiction

Writing

ASMR – ‘Autonomous sensory meridian response’

Or In other words:

The triggering of a tingling-like sensation spreading from the scalp down the spine as a result of visual or auditory stimuli.

Or in other words:

A brain gasm!

Over the passed couple of weeks I find myself watching and listening to more and more asmr videos. Either I’m somehow subconsciously super stressed or else I need to find a boyfriend. I don’t know, there’s just something so addictive about them! Who doesn’t want to be entranced into a semi-sedated state by the breathy vocals of ‘gentle whispering ASMR’ or ‘ASMR Ting Ting’?

But, to be honest, maybe I shouldn’t be so honest! Much to my own dismay I’ve even started listening to it at work! Dozing off instead of doing my spreadsheets is guaranteed to get me fired, I’ve no doubt! What should I do? Why do I enjoy it so much? Why do we all enjoy it so much? Or are you one of these people who doesn’t react to the asmr triggers, like one of those people who gets poked in the eye yet still stares straight ahead, or the type that doesn’t reciprocate a yawn. If this is you, you may also be a psychopath. Don’t believe me? Then read this.

Anyway enough about your psychopathic tendencies and back to my quarter-life crisis – how the f*ck do I lessen the amount of time I’m devoting to YouTube videos of people chewing squishy foods, tapping their fingernails and whispering softly?(Basically all of the steps I attempt in my endeavours to pull a hot guy at the bar.)

You may be thinking to yourself, where’s the harm? There’s worse things I could be doing, like racing baby snails against their will or forcing myself to run 10km on the gym’s treadmill. I wish I could agree with you, but there is indeed harm being caused by this pleasurable pastime (this sounds gross). I shouldn’t be yearning for spine tingles at 12.30pm on a Wednesday afternoon while making a pie chart and eating slightly salted walnuts. Maybe at midnight when I’m trying to drift off but not midday, surely?!

Addiction is a terrible thing, I need to think of ways to get out of this rabbit hole. Maybe I’ll start watching videos of how to stop watching asmr, only to find myself becoming addicted to them.

Pray for me!

The Psychology of Value

Writing

What do you think is more valuable, the price of these rings in the picture, or, the relationship symbolised by them?

No rush to answer! How about the question below instead, as a continuation from yesterday’s post:

 

If I gifted you a Swiss chocolate bar to begin with then a few moments later asked if you’d like to swap that chocolate bar for a new white coffee mug, would you do it?

I didn’t think so either, so why is this? Maybe you like chocolate more than mugs (same here)? But the psychology behind ownership  isn’t that straightforward. In a study by Kahneman, Knetsch and Thaler, when the experiment was conducted in the both the way outlined  above and also the opposite i.e. when students given mugs first were then asked if they wanted to swap it for some of Switzerland’s finest cocoa products, the majority refused to swap the item they were initially given for the item up for grabs in return. So why is this?

Scientists believe it may be  because of the psychological phenomenon known as the ‘Endowment Effect’. Which put simply is the idea that people place more value on something they ‘own’ than the very same object which they have not inherited. For example, say we had two identical water bottles. If I were to give you one and ask you a few moments later if you’d like to swap. Chances are you wouldn’t, even when knowing the two items are basically equal in value in terms of money and use.

But that’s just it. The intrinsic value that your water bottle has to you is more than that of my water bottle.  In those precious few minutes you held your gifted bottle you developed an ‘attachment’ to it. This attachment idea stems from childhood: It is theorized that throughout our childhood, we grew accustomed to placing value to particular objects, be it a certain blanket or a toy,  as if believing that they have a ‘unique’ essence.

Not limited to the imaginations of our juvenile selves, this trait follows us into adulthood and if anything becomes more elaborate.From celebrity memorabilia to refusing to detach ourselves from the possessions of passed loved ones, it’s as if we feel better connected to these individuals through their materialistic items.

 

When it comes to ownership, culture also plays a part.

 

Explained in tomorrow’s post!

 

I’m Making A Radio Show

Writing

If ever there was a time I was more nervous, it would have to have been the day I mixed colours with whites while doing the clothes washing. But only once, and only then! *Mum forgive me!

But why am I so nervous about making a radio show? And more importantly, why exactly am I making one in the first place?

I guess answering the first one, it’s because I’ve never made one before, and with inexperience comes apprehension. Compounding this, it’s because I care. I care about the meaning behind the content I am creating, I care about doing a good job of it.

I’m making a radio show because in the last half a year I’ve been bitten by the radio bug through listening to select radio shows and doing a bit of work experience at local stations. Radio for me, sits in the crosshairs of two interests of mine: music & bullsh*tting conversation. So with all of these ingredients combined I might as well give it a go! What’s the worst that could happen? I’m too robotic, there’s too many awkward silences, my music choices suck!!!!! Well, even so atleast I can say I gave it a go!

So what will my radio show actually be about?

Watch this space! :p

**Release date: 1st April 2019

*Surely there’s something you’ve wanted to give a go but haven’t yet? Take the leap of faith just like me and we can both cry about it after haha.