I’m reading a fascinating book called Look Again: The Power of Noticing What Was Always There by Tali Sharot and Cass Sunstein; it’s all about pleasure, and how long it lasts.  

Take, for example, what happens when people go on holiday to a gorgeous, tropical location.

On arrival, they’re likely to be quite overwhelmed by its beauty and warmth, and to feel thrilled and lucky to be there. However, by the end of the second day, the authors maintain it’s common for the initial excitement to have faded somewhat, simply because the experience has become more familiar. They call this “habituation”.

At first, I thought this was rather a sad concept, but then I realised it tells us a lot about the human mind and that perhaps we might use this research to our advantage. 

I certainly recognise myself in what they reveal about holidays.

For me, the “wow” moments of arriving at the hotel, seeing the room, having a lovely dinner on the first evening, plus waking up for the first time to a fabulous view, are the exciting bits. And, I have to admit, that usually more than a week away from home is wasted on me, because the “specialness” has evaporated. 

The book also describes how when people are questioned about pleasurable occasions, they will frequently use the word “first”, which suggests that it’s the surprise and novelty of the experience that ramps up enjoyment. I notice I’ve done this myself in the previous paragraph. 
Of course, as we have aged, many of us have discovered that “first times” are not always good. 

For example, the first Christmas after a partner has dumped you is likely to be painful rather than marvellous.

But I believe there are far more terrific firsts in life than there are bad ones. The first time you meet a new grandchild. The first flower of the year in the garden. 

The first time you complete a challenge you’ve set yourself like walking or running 5K. The first meal in a restaurant you’ve wanted to visit for ages, and so on.    

Now, obviously, no one could live at a peak of constant ecstasy. It would be both expensive and exhausting.

But perhaps punctuating our routine days with more new and varied highlights might improve our sense of well-being in a way that splashing out on bigger and longer-lived extravaganzas might not – particularly if it’s true that huge treats tend to lose their gloss before they’re over. 

Something that many of us do is to settle down for a couple of hours of TV viewing in the evening, and we’re delighted if we stumble upon a series that really engages us. The chances are that if it only lasts between three and six episodes, we’ll sustain our interest. 

But probably we’ve all been in a situation where we’ve loved some drama or other and have watched it endlessly, almost through habit, but then realised we’re no longer enjoying it, and are actually irritated by the way the plot is never resolved, because it feels as though the writers are just extending the storyline in the hope of getting another series commissioned. 

We need good entertainment in the evenings in order to wind down and relax but perhaps we would derive more reliable enjoyment by having several go-to programmes in the mix at any one time.   

Another area where you can have too much of a good thing is if people come to stay but remain with you for longer than you’d like. I know a couple who both work from home and don’t like too much disruption because of that.

They’re sociable individuals though, and pleased to welcome friends and family, but have a firm rule that no one stays for more than two nights. I’m not sure many of us would be brave enough to enforce this, but they do. Apparently, because everyone knows the rule, they all make the best of this short period and have a wonderful time, then go their separate ways.  

I must say that the book has also got me thinking about how sometimes we live in quite a dull or repetitive way for ages while we are focusing our attention on some highly significant occasion in the future, such as a daughter’s wedding or a very big birthday. 

It’s not unusual for folk to almost put pleasure on hold while making these plans. But now I wonder if there’s a case for downsizing such grand events in favour of creating more commonplace and regular mini rewards.   

Small treats don’t have to be expensive – a different brand of coffee might perk you up. Or buying yourself a magazine you haven’t read for a while, or a little bunch of daffodils. 

Currently, many of us feel there are far too many grim goings on in the world, and that we have no control over them.

Perhaps, therefore, we should think about what we can control and how we could make things better.

And it seems to me that injecting more reliable, small scale, varied pleasures into our days could be a way of boosting our moods and improving our mental health. I think it’s worth a try.