Life in Five Senses: How Exploring the Senses Got Me Out of My Head and Into the World

The more we notice, the more we can enjoy.

As I listened to this exchange, suddenly I realized that the word listen was just a rearrangement of the word silent—remarkably apt.

Over the years, I’ve learned that it’s important that we give ourselves treats—which may sound self-indulgent or frivolous, but it’s not. When we give more to ourselves, we can ask more from ourselves. Treats help us to stick to challenging goals, resist unhealthy temptations, and shrug off small irritations. When we don’t get any treats, we can begin to feel burned-out, depleted, and resentful.

Laughter can make us happier, and it can also make us healthier. It stimulates the heart, lungs, and muscles; cools down the stress response; helps us stay alert; improves the immune function; and relieves pain.

I agree with writer Gertrude Stein: “Anything one does every day is important and imposing.” I love repetition. Doing the same thing over and over makes me feel grounded in my life and makes my actions feel more meaningful.

For instance, studies show that when mothers listen without offering advice or criticism while their children explain solutions to problems, the children markedly improve their problem-solving ability.

when we visit a new place or try a new activity—time seems to slow down, experiences seem more vivid, and our emotional responses are more intense. That’s why a week on vacation seems longer and more memorable than a month at home.

The main purpose of laughter is to bind people together; it’s a social sound that’s meant to be heard by others, to create engagement. We’re far more likely to laugh when we’re with other people, and when we’re with friends rather than with strangers.

(It’s always reading that makes me want to experience things.)

Surprise stimulates the brain, and research shows that people who do new things and visit new places—even something as modest as a trip to a new restaurant—tend to be happier.

See something once—really see it—and it never looks the same again.

I went online to compare different colors of noise. White encompassed all audible frequencies and reminded me of TV static; pink was a mix of frequencies, with reduced higher frequencies, with a sound closer to ocean waves or falling rain; brown sounded lower, with the hint of a rumble, like a strong wind; blue was higher, with a hissing quality, like water spraying from a hose; green supposedly captured the background sound of nature; black noise was…silence.

This interest in pattern and surprise gives us our love of both familiarity and novelty. When we experience something familiar—a song, a favorite snack, an episode of The Office—our brains process it more easily, which may make us like it more. Nevertheless, to enjoy ourselves, we usually try something new. Novelty is more work but also more interesting, which is why new forms of music, art, and fashion catch our attention.

From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler. In it, eleven-year-old Claudia and her nine-year-old brother, Jamie, run away from their Connecticut suburb to spend a week living in the Met.

Now, perhaps, I had found a way to shake myself out of my chronic fog of preoccupation: I would undertake to see, hear, smell, taste, and touch the world around me so that instead of staying in my head, I would live more fully in my body. I

In that time, I woke to a profound truth: I had my one body and its capacities right now, and I wouldn’t have them forever.

If we all wore sandwich boards that listed bullet points of the main things we’re dealing with,” he said, “all of us would be so much more empathetic, would understand where people are coming from, and would be able to connect in a way we don’t.” It’s crucial to remember that our sensory world isn’t everyone’s sensory world.

At some point in life the world’s beauty becomes enough. You don’t need to photograph, paint or even remember it. It is enough. —Toni Morrison, Tar Baby

When I felt like snacking out of boredom, if I put on perfume or did something else to gratify one of my senses, my impulse to snack faded away.

Studies of what’s called the “dinner party problem” show that once a group includes five people, it usually splits into two or more conversations.

Because of the delicate structure of the ear, our hearing is vulnerable to damage. We’re born with about sixteen thousand of the cochlear hair cells that allow us to pick up sounds, and these cells don’t regenerate.

When we hear our voice coming from somewhere else, it sounds higher and thinner, which is why so many people dislike hearing recordings of themselves.

Our hearing anchors us in the world; it tells us what’s happening behind us, above us, in the dark, and before we’re born. Sound pumps me up, calms me down, and transforms my moods in just a few seconds.

This phenomenon of pareidolia explains why we see the Man in the Moon or the face of the Virgin Mary on a grilled cheese sandwich (which, by the way, sold for $28,000).