Soaping up your hands may do more than just get rid of germs. It may wash away the inner confusion you feel right after being forced to make a choice between two appealing choices, according to a new study. The study builds on the past research into a phenomenon known as “the Macbeth effect” (麦克白效应）.

    It turns out that Shakespeare was really onto something when he imagined Lady Macbeth trying to clean her conscience by rubbing invisible bloodstains from her hands.

    A few years ago, scientists asked people to describe a past wrong act. If people were then given a chance to clean their hands, they later expressed less guilt than people who hadn't cleaned.

    This finding interested W. S. Lee, a researcher. “Anything from the past, any kind of negative emotional experiences, might be washed away,” says Lee.

    He decided to test hand washing's effect on one kind of bad feeling：the tension we feel after being forced to choose between two attractive choices, because picking one choice makes us feel that we've lost the other. People usually try to calm this inner conflict by later exaggerating (夸大）the positive aspects of their choice.

    He had students rank 10 different music CDs. Then he offered students two of the CDs and told them to select one as a gift. Some students then used liquid soap. Others only looked at the soap or sniffed (闻)it. “Actually, you do not need water and soap,” says Lee.

    Later, the students again had to rank all the music CDs. People who didn't wash their hands had the normal response — they scored their take-home CD higher, suggesting that they now saw it as an even more attractive one than before. But this wasn't true for the hand washers. They ranked the music about the same. “They feel no need at all to justify (证明…正确）the choice,” says Lee.

    But the effects of it just aren't clear. Schwarz says it's too soon to know whether people should head for a sink after making a tough choice. He says washing may help decision-makers by cleaning away mental disorder. But perhaps if they don't go through the usual post-decision process of justifying their choice, they might feel more sorrow in the long run.

    We spend so much time waiting to be loved, hoping love will find us, and searching for that special love. Unfortunately, that's not usually how life works. Loving yourself is mainly having self-respect, which is the only dependable way to create love in your own life, so you can share it with others. To be able to be loved, you must love and respect yourself as much as you do others. By doing so, you are enabling positive energy and allowing for great situation to occur in your life.

    Bringing joy to other people's lives will help you find joy in your own. In addition, those who you treat well will likely repay you with the same kindness. Gradually, you will start to feel your worth through the smiles of gratitude. However, don't just be very kind to people so you can receive royal treatment.

    Don't punish yourself for something you have done in the past. Instead, look at the mistake as a learning experience. Say to yourself now, “I forgive myself for..." Go to look in a mirror, and say it out loud to yourself. Look at yourself right in the eyes, and speak forgiveness like you mean it. If you do, laugh out loud, realizing that was then and this is now. Every day is a new beginning.

    We all want a nice house, nice things, and someone to share our life with. Find your true wants objectively. Are you eager for power, a religion, or simply a motive? Sometimes, it's easier to hide the truth from yourself, but figuring out what you really want will help you know yourself better. This will hopefully aid you in answering important questions you often ask yourself.

    Write about your experiences, good and bad. When you write down good experiences, allow yourself to feel those feelings. When you remember bad experiences, allow yourself to feel self-compassion(自我同情). Compassion is not self-pity, but rather a willingness to accept one's own pain and regret. Compassion allows us to be present with our pain, so we can acknowledge it and let it go.

    Eudaimonia is an Ancient Greek word, particularly stressed by the philosophers Plato and Aristotle, which deserves far more attention than it has because it corrects the shortfalls (缺失）in one of the most central, but troubling words in our modem language: happiness.

    When we nowadays try to clearly express the purpose of our lives, it is the word “happiness” that we commonly turn to. We tell ourselves and others that the most important principle for our jobs, our relationships and the conduct of our day-to-day lives is the pursuit of happiness. It sounds like an innocent enough idea, but too much reliance on the term means that we frequently unfairly tend to quit or, at least, heavily question a great many challenging but worthwhile situations. The Ancient Greeks did not believe that the purpose of life was to be happy; they proposed that it was to achieve Eudaimonia, a word which has been best translated as “fulfilment”.

    What distinguishes happiness from fulfilment is pain. It is very possible to be fulfilled and—at the same time—under pressure, suffering physically or mentally, overburdened and, quite frequently, in an irritable (易怒的）mood. This is a slight psychological difference that is hard for the word “happiness” to capture, for it's tricky to speak of being happy yet unhappy, or happy yet suffering. However, such a combination is readily accommodated within the respected and noble-sounding idea of Eudaimonia.

    The word encourages us to trust that many of life's most worthwhile projects will sometimes be in conflict with contentment, and yet will be worth pursuing. Properly exploring our professional talents, managing a household, keeping a relationship going, creating a new business venture or engaging in politics… none of these goals are likely to leave us cheerful and grinning on a daily basis. They will, in fact, involve us in all manner of challenges that will deeply exhaust and weaken us, provoke (激怒）and wound us. And yet we will perhaps, at the end of our lives, still feel that the tasks were worth undertaking. Through them, we'll have achieved something deeper and more interesting than happiness.

    With the word Eudaimonia in mind, we can stop imagining that we are aiming for a pain-free existence—and then blaming ourselves unfairly for being in a bad mood. We'll know that we are trying to do something far more important than smile all the time: we're striving to do justice to our full human potential.

    When school started on that warm August day, I threw myself into everything I did, including playing volleyball. I decided to become beautiful, or at the very least, skinny. I stopped eating completely. Soon I began losing weight, which thrilled me, and I even grew to love the tiredness and lightheadedness that came with my poor diet, for those feelings meant that I was winning.

    As the season progressed, things had become tense between my head volleyball coach, Coach Smith, and me. She felt that something was wrong with my health. She talked with me about my eating and was angry that I wouldn't listen to her when she tried to make me eat. She tried to persuade me in a determined way and so we fought constantly. Then my hunger started to affect my performance. I was so tired that practice and games were becoming a struggle. One afternoon, with hurt in her eyes, Coach Smith asked me what I had eaten and I told her nothing yet, but I was going to. She looked at me, disappointment in her eyes, knowing she couldn't make me stop, and walked away.

    A couple of weeks later I attended a formal dinner for our volleyball team. I stood there as my coach managed to say something nice about me. I realized then that I had ruined my senior year by being disrespectful, and I had probably ruined hers as well. So that evening I wrote her a letter apologizing and thanking her.

    Then one Saturday, as I was reading in the library, I felt someone gently take my arm and say softly, “Lynn Jones, how are you doing?” I looked up and saw the familiar face. “Thanks for the letter,” she said. “It meant a lot.”

    When I think of a coach, I think of someone above me, someone who gives instruction—not a friend. But Coach Smith is different, and, like any other good friend, she dealt with my problem in a determined way even when I hated her for it at that time. I didn't deserve her kindness, but she gave it anyway. I will forever be grateful for her help, and now for her friendship.

    At a daycare center in Texas, children were playing outside. One of the children was Jessica Mc Clure. She was 18 months old. Her mother, who worked at the daycare center, was watching the children. Suddenly Jessica fell and disappeared. Jessica's mother screamed and ran to her.

    A well was in the yard of the center. The well was only eight inches across and a rock always covered it. But children had moved the rock. When Jessica fell, she fell right into the well.

    Jessica's mother reached inside the well, but she couldn't feel Jessica. She dialed 911 for help. Men from the fire department arrived. They discovered that Jessica was about 20 feet down in the well. For the next hour the men talked and planned Jessica's rescue.

    "We can't go down into the well," they said."It's too narrow. So, we're going to drill a hole next to the well. Then we'll drill a tunnel across to Jessica. When we reach her, we'll bring her through the tunnel and up through our hole."

    The men began to drill the hole at 11 a.m. on Wednesday, October 14, 1987. The men had a difficult job; they were drilling through solid rock. During her days in the well, Jessica sometimes asked for her mother. Sometimes she slept, sometimes she cried and sometimes she sang.

    All over the world, people waited for news of Jessica. Everyone worried about her.

At 8 p.m. on Friday, October 16, men reached Jessica and brought her up from the well. She was soon sent to hospital. Jessica was dirty, hungry, thirsty and tired. Her feet and forehead were badly injured. But Jessica was alive.

    After Jessica's rescue, one of the rescuers made a metal cover for the well, saying," To Jessica, with love from all of us."

    I must have looked deep in thought, or as deep in thought as an 11-year-old man can, when my grandmother glanced up from her weeding to ask, “You have something on your mind, don't you?”

    “Yes, I was thinking that someday I want to be an Olympic speed skating champion like my hero, Eric Haiden, I want to be a doctor like my parents and I want to help children in Africa.”

    I immediately knew I had confided in the right person when a knowing smile broke across her face. “Johann, of course! You can do anything you want to do!” she said simply. And with my grandmother's support, I set out to pursue my passions.

    14 years later, I was well ready to take hold of my first dream: becoming an Olympic champion. The Olympics in 1994 were in my home country, Norway. As I entered the Olympic stadium, I wasn't the best athlete, and many had doubts about my ability to perform well. But I had something special working for me. I had a woman in the first row who believed in me following my passions just as much as I did. For the first time ever, my grandmother was going to see me skate.

    It happened. Breaking a world record, I won the gold.

    As I stood on the podium(领奖台) that I had dreamed about my entire life, a curious question popped into my head. Why me? Why did I win, given all the other incredible competitors out there? The reason had to be more than a grandmother who shared a belief in her grandson's dream. The question led me to only one answer: because I wanted to make a difference in the world, and with all the media attention on my success, I could.

    I immediately knew what that difference had to be: hope in the lives of the children in Africa. Six months earlier, I'd been invited to Eritrea as an ambassador for Olympic Aid.