Repetition makes for Desensitization

Monochrome (thumbnail): It was easy to forget Berlin wasn't grayscale and still wartorn!In his discussion of habit, De Botton is really talking about the phenomenon of desensitivity. It’s a psychological fact that things grow to be less novel, fabulous, eye-catching when you see them every single day. I experienced this in New York last semester. I was blessed to have the opportunity to live on the Penthouse Floor of NYU’s new Gramercy Green, in a corner suite, with floor-to-ceiling windows. My view included the Empire State building and the Chrysler Building. I cannot explain how ecstatic I was for the first three weeks, but as time wore on, I just began to take it for granted. I was living the New York dream as a mere student, not paying nearly what I would’ve had to for such a space in any other circumstances. And the truth of the matter is, I’ll probably never be in a position to afford something that amazing ever again, or maybe even anything in Manhattan ever again. And still, the glitter settled, and I stopped caring. How, though, could one possibly manage to just be re-invigorated by the same view, over and over again, when nothing about the view changes? By the end of the semester, I just smiled politely anytime someone who hadn’t been into my room before came in and got excited for me. The habit of life, of sensing, of seeing overcame me and I became spoiled, as it were. I just took it for granted.

In regards to my study abroad, Berlin became habit too. Sure, my apartment here is also nice. I have my own bedroom, a terrace, clean and fairly new furniture, and a lot of space. In New York, I’m sure this apartment would also be out my price range. But this didn’t really become habit, in the sense that De Botton means it, because it was never that fresh to begin with. It was cozy, not shocking. What, I think, became so habit about Berlin was the weather. It was gray, and this gray affected my mood in the worst way. I think if I believed in diagnoses like “Seasonal Affective Disorder,” then I would diagnose myself with it—but I feel like everyone likes the sun and everyone responds to the sun by producing serotonin, and responds to a lack of sun by isolating themselves and becoming fatigued all too easily. This, then, was where I have been for the majority of my trip abroad. Because light shined on nothing, nothing drew my attention. It all seemed so plain, so uninteresting, so gray. I think that this became habit and it made me crave New York in the worst way.

However, now that I’ve returned from my study abroad trip, Berlin has changed. My habits are broken. It is warm enough to go outside without a heavy coat and the sun shines brightly. Our windows stay open and I have the opportunity to smell one of my favorite smells: freshly mowed grass. The trees are decorated with leaves, giving me shady spot to sit while I admire how the sun lights up the greens of the grass and the pinks of the flowers. The sun reflecting on the fresh produce at the Turkish makes the biofood ripen before my eyes, and this energy absorption releases its fragrance into the air. It’s enough to make me want to go vegan!

All the buildings, I see now, are not gray. They’re actually a variety of colors, many of them too old to show their original color without proper lighting. Where oxidation has affected roofs, the Statue-of-Liberty green is so beautiful that it makes you forget that it might, by some standards, be considered an imperfection.

I wake up and want to get out of bed rather than wrap my sheets tighter. I like to start working in my living room with the shades wide and windows cracked rather than making sure I can’t see outside so I can procrastinate with CNN or BBC, the world editions. I reward myself for doing work by taking long walks, rather than feeling guilty for not having done work and going to bed early, waiting for the cycle to start over again. More than anything, I love to see other people out on the streets with me, making Berlin feel like a community instead of a series of isolation cells that people wouldn’t leave if they had the chance.