Mental Traps_ The Overthinker's Guide to a Happier Life - Andre Kukla [22]
The structure of thought recommended by Franklin is reminiscent of the vertically infinite amplifications discussed in an earlier chapter: one thing leads to another without end. The perfectly Franklinian life is one vast vertical anticipation. No matter how much of the future we’ve already anticipated, there’s always the problem of what happens after that. Having mapped out our career plans for the next twenty years, we have the twenty-first year to think about, and then the twenty-second. Our work is literally never done. The leisurely bath will never come.
There are people who actually live in this condition of endless vertical anticipation. These are the type A personalities that we’ve read about, who die of stress long before their well-laid plans have run their course. Short of a coronary, the worst thing that can happen to them is complete success, in which case their lives consist of one prefigured scenario after another, each one bereft of spontaneity and the fascination of the unforeseen. They’ve written the book, and now they plan to spend the rest of their lives reading it.
Anticipation may also be infinite in the horizontal direction. Just as Franklin’s vertical anticipator delves further and further into the future, the victim of horizontal anticipation prepares himself for more and more possibilities at a single point in time. Anticipating a letter of reprimand, he works out the outlines of an indignant defense. Then the thought occurs to him: what if the anticipated letter takes a conciliatory tone? He had best prepare an alternative version of his reply suited to this eventuality. But what if the letter is whimsical? condescending? whimsical and condescending? whimsical and conciliatory? So he works on six different replies, to make certain that every eventuality is covered. But what if the letter is impersonal and matter-of-fact …
Like his vertical cousin, the horizontal anticipator wishes to make certain that he isn’t caught by surprise. But he adopts a different battle plan. The vertical anticipator tries to settle what will happen for all time to come; the horizontal anticipator tries to settle what will happen at a particular point of time under all possible circumstances. Both jobs are literally endless. Just as there’s no end of time to account for, so also is there no limit to the possibilities for any single point of time. What if we break a leg and can’t go to the store? We had best stock up on groceries now. What if the power fails and all the food in our freezer is spoiled? We had best get a generator. What if an oil embargo makes it impossible to obtain fuel for our generator? Perhaps a windmill on the roof … Horizontal anticipation is the what-if disease.
The characteristic experience of anticipation is a feeling of being hounded and pushed from behind. As soon as a possible avenue of movement is opened up, we’re catapulted along it by a heavy hand at our back. We may not tarry for a moment. It’s as though the mere existence of a path made the journey immediately mandatory.
But the fact that something needs doing does not necessarily mean that it needs to be done right now. Even the most important task in the world can be utterly ignored until its time has come. In time, we may be called