Atlas of the Heart: The Bestselling Guide to Understanding our Emotions and Developing Meaningful Connections

by Brené Brown

I understood that people would do almost anything to not feel pain, including causing pain and abusing power, and I understood that there were very few people who could handle being held accountable for causing hurt without rationalizing, blaming, or shutting down. What surprised me the most when I was growing up was how little other people seemed to understand or even think about the connection between feelings, thinking, and behavior. I remember often thinking, Oh, God. Do you not see this coming? I didn’t feel smarter or better, just weirder and

It’s awful that the same substances that take the edge off anxiety and pain also dull our sense of observation. We see the pain caused by the misuse of power, so we numb our pain and lose track of our own power. We become terrified of feeling pain, so we engage in behaviors that become a magnet for more pain. We run from anger and grief straight into the arms of fear, perfectionism, and the desperate need for control.

When people are hateful or cruel or just being assholes, they’re showing us exactly what they’re afraid of. Understanding their motivation doesn’t make their behavior less difficult to bear, but it does give us choices. And subjecting ourselves to that behavior by choice doesn’t make us tough—it’s a sign of our own lack of self-worth.

Comparison is the crush of conformity from one side and competition from the other—it’s trying to simultaneously fit in and stand out.

What’s interesting is that while admiration fosters self-betterment, reverence seems to foster a desire for connection to what we revere—we want to move closer to that thing or person.

But is all jealousy dangerous? No. It’s normal to feel some level of jealousy, and research shows that in small doses and expressed appropriately, it’s a normal part of healthy relationships.17 I love how the poet Maya Angelou frames it. “Jealousy in romance is like salt in food.18 A little can enhance the savor, but too much can spoil the pleasure and, under certain circumstances, can be life-threatening.”

Without hesitation, Marc replied, “No. Resentment is part of envy.” Oh, holy shit. I’m not mad because you’re resting. I’m mad because I’m so bone tired and I want to rest. But, unlike you, I’m going to pretend that I don’t need to. I’m not furious that you’re okay with something that’s really good and imperfect. I’m furious because I want to be okay with something that’s really good and imperfect. Your lack of work is not making me resentful, my lack of rest is making me resentful.

nothing that celebrates the humiliation or pain of another person builds lasting connection.

While most of us think of boredom as a negative feeling, it turns out that not all experiences of boredom are bad. In fact, if it weren’t for boredom, you wouldn’t be reading this book or any book by me. Let me explain the research first. A recent study showed that simple, boring tasks or mundane activities can allow our minds to wander, daydream, and create.3 The lack of stimulation that defines “being bored” gives our imagination room to play and grow. A big part of my book writing routine is watching super predictable, formulaic mysteries—even ones I’ve seen ten times. These shows would bore me to tears if I were in a normal mental space. But when I’m coding data and writing, something weird happens. It’s like the shows lull the easily distracted part of my brain into a rhythmic stupor, setting free the deeper, meaning-making part of my brain to engage and start making connections between things that don’t seem connectable. I actually sit on my couch with a notepad next to me because the more bored I get, the more ideas bubble to the surface.

THIS!

When we develop expectations, we paint a picture in our head of how things are going to be and how they’re going to look. Sometimes we go so far as to imagine how they’re going to feel, taste, and smell. That picture we paint in our minds holds great value for us. We set expectations based not only on how we fit in that picture, but also on what those around us are doing in that picture. This means that our expectations are often set on outcomes totally beyond our control, like what other people think, what they feel, or how they’re going to react. The movie in our mind is wonderful, but no one else knows their parts, their lines, or what it means to us.

I used to think the best way to go through life was to expect the worst. That way, if it happened, you were prepared, and if it didn’t happen, you were pleasantly surprised. Then I was in a car accident and my wife was killed. Needless to say, expecting the worst didn’t prepare me at all. And worse, I still grieve for all of those wonderful moments we shared and that I didn’t fully enjoy. My commitment to her is to fully enjoy every moment now. I just wish she was here now that I know how to do that.

Interestingly, research shows that in the short term, we tend to regret bad outcomes where we took action.15 However, when we reflect back over the long term, we more often regret the actions we didn’t take—what we didn’t do—and we think of those as missed opportunities.

While some people disagree with me, I firmly believe that regret is one of our most powerful emotional reminders that reflection, change, and growth are necessary. In our research, regret emerged as a function of empathy. And, when used constructively, it’s a call to courage and a path toward wisdom. The idea that regret is a fair but tough teacher can really piss people off. “No regrets” has become synonymous with daring and adventure, but I disagree. The idea of “no regrets” doesn’t mean living with courage, it means living without reflection. To live without regret is to believe we have nothing to learn, no amends to make, and no opportunity to be braver with our lives.

In our work, we find that what we regret most are our failures of courage, whether it’s the courage to be kinder, to show up, to say how we feel, to set boundaries, to be good to ourselves, to say yes to something scary. Regret has taught me that living outside my values is not tenable for me. Regrets about not taking chances have made me braver. Regrets about shaming or blaming people I care about have made me more thoughtful. Sometimes the most uncomfortable learning is the most powerful.

It turns out that confusion, like many uncomfortable things in life, is vital for learning. According to research, confusion has the potential to motivate, lead to deep learning, and trigger problem solving. A study led by Sidney D’Mello found that when we’re trying to work through our confusion, we need to stop and think, engage in careful deliberation, develop a solution, and revise how we approach the next problem.10

How can both of those statements be true? If we dig into the tension of that statement, it reveals truths about us: We’re drawn to authentic, imperfect people, but we’re scared to let people see who we really are. I want to experience your vulnerability, but I don’t want to be vulnerable. Vulnerability is courage in you and inadequacy in me. I’m drawn to your vulnerability but repelled by mine.