Great reasons to break your own heart

Ethan Shalom Johnson

Peace of My Mind

This column is not about an international crisis. It is not about any social or political issues either. The only subject that this column covers is what I have learned about emotional investments in my life, so feel free to stop if you don't want to read about me.

I am probably too young to be making generalizations like the ones I'm about to spew, but I will proceed regardless. From my point of view, life tends to be composed of trade-offs; nothing comes without a cost (direct or otherwise), and no one person gets everything he or she wants. Maybe, if you are really special, you have conditioned yourself to be happy with every detail of your life. Unfortunately, in our society, this is rather unlikely.

Some individuals try hard to make themselves fully content with each aspect of their lives, and while such an effort is valiant, many times it only leads to apathy. If nothing bothers you, then you probably don't care deeply about anything. And that is where a very important trade-off becomes apparent: The balance between emotional investment and personal contentment.

The greatest feelings of happiness that I have experienced in my life have all occurred because I made a total emotional commitment to a given situation, and this applies to just about everything I have ever been involved in.

Last year, when my team won Michigan's first Big Ten men's gymnastics championship in 24 years and its first NCAA title in 29 years, the jubilation was like nothing I had ever felt before. All those years spent conquering one obstacle after another had culminated in triumph, and no one can ever take that away.

The problem, of course, stems from the risk that when you put your heart out on the table, someone can always mash it with a baseball bat. The worst feelings of pain I have ever experienced have also occurred because I made a total emotional investment in certain aspects of my life.

Last weekend, when my team fell .125 points short of repeating as national champions, the pain we all felt was many times worse than back in the days when we were finishing last in the Big Ten. It might seem rather odd that placing second in the country would lead anyone to feel poorly, but when you make a 100 percent emotional investment in a specific goal, anything short of that feels like total failure. Needless to say, it was very difficult to smile as we stood on the podium on Friday night to accept the runner-up trophy.

Is this emotional roller coaster worth the extreme motion sickness that comes with the ride? Absolutely, and there are at least two good reasons for it. First, life without emotional risks is very dull and rather meaningless. If I don't care about something in my life, then there is no point in getting involved in the first place.

Second, the risks we take are worthwhile in themselves. This one is kind of tough to explain, but I'll try. Let's say you play in an intramural basketball league, and on the day of your most important game the other team doesn't show up, so your team wins by default. Sure, you won, but the victory is not nearly as fulfilling as winning by playing the game. The challenge constitutes half the fun.

Likewise, it was exhilarating for me to compete in front of the largest crowd in my gymnastics career, in one of the closest NCAA finals of all time, mounting a comeback on the last two events from a steep deficit to challenge for the title. Naturally, that by no means made the end result any better from my team's standpoint. It was crushing to finish second and this pain is not one that will subside quickly. But we competed to win, and for that we can be proud.

I have a difficult time expressing the lesson here without sounding awfully trite, but it's possible that no clear-cut answer can be found anyway. In order to be happy, you cannot have endless wants, because then you do not appreciate life for its intrinsic value. On the other hand, passionless existence seems empty.

Maybe the lesson, then, is that even though pain is never pleasant, this experience was nevertheless a positive one because we as team worked hard for something that meant enough to all of us to hurt a lot when things didn't turn out as planned. Moreover, we know what it feels like to succeed after having literally given our blood, sweat and tears to Michigan athletics. I know it's a feeling I will never forget.

- Ethan Shalom Johnson can be reached via e-mail at ethanj@umich.edu.