I had first heard of his work a few months ago on a podcast, and for the life of me, I have no idea which podcast, but the main crux if the argument was essentially those who delayed satisfaction are said to be more successful, happier and more fulfilled.

In this particular Ted Talk, he fleshes out his theory by saying there are generally, 3 types of people:

1. Present Oriented: Individuals who are only concerned with the moment and answer the question “what can I experience now?”
2. Past Focused: Decisions are based on what they’ve experience prior to this moment – “based on past experiences, what will I choose now?”
3. Future Focused: Decisions are based on cost benefit analysis of the future – “If I choose X now, what will be the repercussions or consequences of my choice?”

And within these 3 types of people, each tends to focus on either extreme of this time continuum:

1. Past Positive
2. Past Negative
3. Present Hedonism
4. Present Fatalism
5. Future Life-Goal Oriented
6. Future Transcendental (Life After Death)

Optimally, he theorizes that your goal is to remain mentally flexible so that at any one time you can temporarily shift your time perspective to meet the demands of that moment. For example, if you’re about to eat a tuna fish sandwich in Spain, and from past experience living in the Midwest you remember that most tuna fish sandwiches have mayo in it. And because you’re allergic to eggs, you stop, open the sandwich and look. Odd, you don’t see mayo. Staying in the present moment, you ask the woman behind the counter if there are any eggs or mayo in the sandwich. She says no, and now your mind shifts to future thinking. If she’s wrong you could end up in the hospital, but as you remember that most sandwiches in Spain do not have a sauce other than olive oil and tomato, the chances of there being egg in the sandwich is slim. Therefore, your choice, assessing all three time perspectives, is to happily take a risk and eat the sandwich.

Philip believes that the ideal time perspective is:

• High Past Positive - provides you the roots to not only remain grounded, but to connect with your identity and family
• Moderately High Future – allows you to dream, imagine and aim for new challenges
• Moderate Present Hedonism - gives you the raw energy to explore what’s around you now

Where he emphasizes that you not go is into High Fatalism (believing that you have no control over your actions), Negative Past (where everything behind you is frightening and scary) or Transcendental Future (where you’re waiting for some reward at the end of your existence, making this life “less than” your next one). Personally, I think his framework for tackling the psychological issues as to how we relate to ourselves and others is not only fascinating but very poignant, but I’m curious what you think.

Other sites to check out include: the social implications of understanding time perspective (www.mappingthinking.com) and the other deals with the commercial implications (www.gpsforthemind.com)

Check out his video here:

Related articles by Zemanta

• Philip Zimbardo on Time and Temptation (brainandlearning.blogspot.com)

These statements were taken from a book called “Disorder in the Court“, and are things people actually said in court, word for word, taken down and now published by court reporters that had the torment of staying calm while these exchanges were actually taking place. Sent to me by a friend, which I’m sure had gone through a long line of email forwards, I couldn’t resist!

ATTORNEY: What was the first thing your husband said to you that morning?
WITNESS: He said, ‘Where am I, Cathy?’
ATTORNEY: And why did that upset you?
WITNESS: My name is Susan!
___________________________________________

ATTORNEY: What gear were you in at the moment of the impact?
WITNESS: Gucci sweats and Reeboks.
_____________________

ATTORNEY: Are you sexually active?
WITNESS: No, I just lie there.
___________________________________________

ATTORNEY: This myasthenia gravis, does it affect your memory at all?
WITNESS: Yes.
ATTORNEY: And in what ways does it affect your memory?
WITNESS: I forget.
ATTORNEY: You forget? Can you give us an example of something you forgot?
__________________________________________

ATTORNEY: Do you know if your daughter has ever been involved in voodoo?
WITNESS: We both do.
ATTORNEY: Voodoo?
WITNESS: We do.
ATTORNEY: You do?
WITNESS: Yes, voodoo.
__________________________________________

ATTORNEY: Now doctor, isn’t it true that when a person dies in his sleep, he doesn’t know about it until the next morning?
WITNESS: Did you actually pass the bar exam?
____________________________________

ATTORNEY: The youngest son, the twenty-year-old, how old is he?
WITNESS: He’s twenty, much like your IQ.
_________________________________________

ATTORNEY: Were you present when your picture was taken?
WITNESS: Are you shitting me?
_________________________________________

ATTORNEY: So the date of conception (of the baby) was August 8th?
WITNESS: Yes.
ATTORNEY: And what were you doing at that time?
WITNESS: getting laid
___________________________________________

ATTORNEY: She had three children, right?
WITNESS: Yes.
ATTORNEY: How many were boys?
WITNESS: None.
ATTORNEY: Were there any girls?
WITNESS: Your Honor, I think I need a different attorney. Can I get a new attorney?
___________________________________________

ATTORNEY: How was your first marriage terminated?
WITNESS: By death.
ATTORNEY: And by whose death was it terminated?
WITNESS: Take a guess.
____________________________________________

ATTORNEY: Can you describe the individual?
WITNESS: He was about medium height and had a beard.
ATTORNEY: Was this a male or a female?
WITNESS: Unless the Circus was in town, I’m going with male.
____________________________________

ATTORNEY: Is your appearance here this morning pursuant to a deposition notice which I sent to your attorney?
WITNESS: No, this is how I dress when I go to work.
______________________________________

ATTORNEY: Doctor, how many of your autopsies have you performed on dead people?
WITNESS : All of them.. The live ones put up too much of a fight.
________________________________________

ATTORNEY: ALL your responses MUST be oral, OK? What school did you go to?
WITNESS: Oral.
_________________________________________

ATTORNEY: Do you recall the time that you examined the body?
WITNESS: The autopsy started around 8:30 p.m.
ATTORNEY: And Mr. Denton was dead at the time?
WITNESS: If not, he was by the time I finished.
___________________________________________

ATTORNEY: Are you qualified to give a urine sample?
WITNESS: Are you qualified to ask that question?
_____________________________________

And the best for last:

ATTORNEY: Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: Did you check for blood pressure?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: Did you check for breathing?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?
WITNESS: No.
ATTORNEY: How can you be so sure, Doctor?
WITNESS: Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar.
ATTORNEY: I see, but could the patient have still been alive, nevertheless?
WITNESS: Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law..

When I lived in New Mexico in 1995, I remember taking a long drive through the desert from Albuquerque to Santa Fe, listening to my warn out Cranberries tape on full blast. Coming upon the southern tip of the city, red dirt blanketing the freeway, I saw an art gallery just off to my right with a big wooden door sheltering it from the afternoon light. Curiosity piqued, I quickly exited, dust covering the entire back end of my black Subaru, and pulled into the makeshift driveway.

Inside, the gallery was pristine with gleaming white plaster walls and rustic wooden beams running across the ceiling, giving it both a professional yet cozy feeling. And as I walked across the creaky wooden floor, unnoticed by an attendant, I spotted a flaming red corner of a canvas propped against the back wall. The painting, upon closer inspection, was not only gigantic, but absolutely breathtaking. 3 emaciated looking American Indians sat exhausted, head held low, on equally pathetic looking horses. Their legs and arms were twice the size of their bony bodies, painted in a thick black oil texture. But the painting itself conveyed more than an overwhelming heaviness or exhaustion, because the colors behind the men on horse were so vibrant and alive with various shades of red, orange, yellow and purple that you felt an urge to block the sun from your eyes. The colors conveyed hope, maybe a voyage that would end in something so powerful and peaceful that the current state of pain would completely cease to exist.

I stood in front of that painting for what felt like hours, though most likely, only moments had passed. To date, I have no idea who the artist was, as my 19 year old self was too timid to ask the very professional looking attendant, but the painting has been forever etched in my mind.

The painting you see above was taken along the coast in Collioure in Southern France. There was large sign that stated with perfect clarity, “No Photos”, but I couldn’t help myself. Walking innocently infront of the canves, with my tiny little Cannon hid under jacked, drapped over my crossed arms, I snapped in rapid speed sans flash just when the perfect moment arose.  It’s not the perfect picture, but I think it captures exactly how color alone can instantanously effect the world around it.

• During my Sophomore year of high school, out of teenage distress I planned a move to Ireland. And though my plan was never fully carried out, you still supported me
• When I moved to Colorado on the day of my high school graduation with no money, job or plan, you supported me
• When I swore that I would be an internationally famed painter, with only a half dozen canvases half completed in my apartment, you supported me
• When I decided to major in paranormal psychology, determined to prove the existence of the sixth sense, you supported me
• When completing my Masters, I declared my passion to become an educational speaker on Multi-Intelligence Learning, and despite my total and complete fear of public speaking, you supported me
• When I chose to celebrate my marriage by traveling across Portugal for three weeks visiting wineries, instead of having a traditional ceremony, you supported me
• When I changed my last name, our family name, to Opaz – a name only Ryan and I related to – you supported me
• When I packed up and moved to Spain without a job, knowledge of the language, money or contacts, you supported me
• When I shared my new vocation as a wine blogger, without any solid understanding as to where my financial resources would come from, you supported me

We all have our faults, our major shortcomings, and despite the moments when we’ve seen life from two different lenses, you’ve always supported me. Thank you for believing in me and for continually sharing your pride in who I am as a person.

Happy Father’s Day Dad!

One might imagine that sitting alone on the large field on a beautiful spring day, watching the changing colors of the oak leaves sway before you, would be the ideal option for any struggling 15 year old, but part of school politics required participation. A lack of participation equated to a large “L” pasted on your forehead, signaling to your peers that you’re weak and incapable suffering the same torturous exercise as the rest. Lacking complete and total confidence in myself, I learned rather quickly that it was better to duck out of class entirely, choosing the wrath of my mother over the painstaking shame I felt from my peers.

A few years ago, Ryan and I spent Christmas at his aunt and uncle’s house in Norway, where outdoor activity is synonymous with cod – what day would possibly be complete with out it? Having enjoyed a few bottles of wine at dinner, the family sat satiated and content when his aunt turned to me and proposed a “girl’s run” the following day.

“A run?” I repeated back in terror.

“Sure! We head up to the mountains just 15 minutes from here all the time and enjoy the fresh air” she replied.

“You’re serious?! A run?!”

Mind you, this was December, and the thought of running up mountains in frigid temperatures, while the sun only pretends to peek its head over the fjords, was equivalent to suicide for me, but my pride took over.

“Sure, that sounds like fun!” If my nose could have grown in proportion to the lie I had just slipped, family members would have been hitting the deck for dear life.

I couldn’t sleep that night. My heart wouldn’t settle into a restful pace! What if I couldn’t breathe? What if I only got a quarter up the hill and had to stop because legs were too sore? What if I just couldn’t make it? It had been a decade since I ran on anything that didn’t resemble a gerbil’s toy, and the notion of having to physically perpetuate myself forward by my own validation seemed hellish.

The following morning, I donned my running shoes, a wool cap, long underwear and I ran. I ran until my legs ached, but the feeling was ethereal. I loved it! For the first time, my whole body felt alive, pulsing, vibrant and full of energy. I cursed myself for letting my mind get the best of me for so many years, perpetuating the idea that I couldn’t run. But like any mental block, it only takes facing the fear to evaporate the feeling.

Carretera de les Aigües hugs the mountain overlooking Barcelona offering miles of undulating dirt road with a priceless view of Barcelona. Struggling from the heat, with sweat pouring down my face, I couldn’t help but smile when going out for a 10 mile run yesterday.

If only Mr Smith could see me now.

Gabriella Opaz