When insomniac Amber Hewerdine visits a hypnotherapist to cure her sleep problems, she doesn’t expect the memories she dredges up to connect her to a police investigation, yet two hours later she is questioned about the murder of a woman she has never met.

It’s a typically intriguing Hannah opener, and fans of her thrillers will be satisfied by the number of twists and shock revelations that keep the plot moving. What makes her compelling reading, though, is not so much the whodunit element as the why. How do memories work? What makes a lie compulsive? Hannah excels at dissecting human behaviour, and the way she describes little acts of cruelty can send real chills down the spine.

I do it because it brings me a tranquillity that nothing else can – and that is prize enough. It is my hobby, and always has been but, even as I write that word, I think how strangely old-fashioned it sounds. I suppose the modern euphemism is ‘me’ time.

A friend who is constantly consumed with stress and anxiety claims she takes plenty of me time. That means getting her hair done and having a facial and mani/pedi – preferably all at the same time. It’s not relaxation she’s after, but results – glossy hair, toned skin and a set of perfect, pearly nails.

Yoga is too slow for her, until I mention that Hollywood stars practise it to attain a perfect butt. Her eyes light up. Mention meditation and her eyes glaze over. ‘I couldn’t just sit still and do nothing. Anyway, I don’t have the time.’ This is a woman who runs every day and goes to the gym three times a week. Couldn’t she swap a couple of those sessions to meditate, which genuinely does reduce stress? No chance. She doesn’t exercise because she loves it. It is a chore, tolerated to keep her body lean and slim. For her, like so many others, pleasure has become goal-oriented.

I live by the sea and every morning the beach is crowded with people power-walking, iPods plugged in, so intent on burning calories that they miss the glories of a sun-silvered ocean and the cries of seagulls freewheeling through a blue sky. They are part of our Must Do generation. We must run to lose weight; we must read the latest book or see the newest movie, not necessarily for pleasure, but to have that well-informed phrase to drop into conversation. Saying you’ve idled away an afternoon planting seeds is likely to kill social chit-chat stone dead. As for doing a jigsaw puzzle or building model ships – it’s kid’s stuff.

If only it was. Hobbies – the delight of doing something for nothing – are an absorption left to small children making mud pies and building castles in the sand, but even those innocent pursuits are lost as shopping becomes this nation’s number one leisure activity. Pleasure these days is about getting, not being.

Whenever I mention to my daughter that I grew up without television (there was no such thing in the far-flung countries where I lived as a child), or computer games, mobile phones or Facebook, her expression is one of almost comic panic. ‘But what did you do?’

Well, nothing really. I made clothes for my dolls and, later, for myself – usually with equally disastrous results. I read to lose myself, wrote stories for amusement and went on two-hour bike rides, not to get anywhere, but simply for the exhilaration of the wind in my hair. I’m not saying it was an idyllic childhood; half the time I was bored out of my mind. But it taught me one thing. Pleasure is quiet and joy can be idle – which is perhaps why I am at my happiest making mud pies in my garden.

TRY THIS:

Alternate nostril breathing.

Fold your index and middle fingers towards your palm on your right hand. Then place your left thumb under your right nostril to ‘tape’ it up.

Inhale from the left nostril to the count of four. Gently pinch the left nostril with the right ring finger for as long as it is comfortable, working up to the count of 16. Release your thumb and exhale through the right nostril for a count of 8.

Now inhale through the right nostril for 4. Hold for as long as it is comfortable (up to 16 seconds). Exhale through the left nostril for 8.

Repeat for several minutes.

This exercise balances the brain’s serotonin, the chemical that regulates happiness. It pushes oxygen to the bottom of the lungs and helps remove toxins when you exhale. You will feel relaxed after this exercise, particularly in the shoulder area, and may experience heightened perception.

ABOUT THE STRESS MANAGEMENT SOCIETY

The Stress Management Society is dedicated to helping people tackle stress at work and at home. Its team of health and professional consultants offers consultancy, staff training, event organisation and stress-management products.

If you need help tackling stress, visit. www.stress.org.uk

Aveda’s Stress Fix body care range will be available in Aveda Salons, Spas, Stores and online from April.

Tuesday 21st February

TRY THIS:

You can learn the secrets of guided imagery and use them at any time of the day. All you need is five minutes to yourself.

Begin by closing your eyes and taking deep, measured breaths. Imagine that you are in beautiful surroundings – either a place you have visited or a place you conjure up from your imagination. Focus on bringing all the elements of the scene to life: the colours you see, the sounds you hear, the smells you detect, the aromas and taste. How does your body feel with whatever it’s doing in your special place? Is it warm or cool? Are you alone or with others? Bring the images into focus and try to stay in the scene for at least five minutes.

Practice this exercise for a few minutes every day, or use whenever you’re stressed.

ABOUT THE STRESS MANAGEMENT SOCIETY

The Stress Management Society is an organisation dedicated to helping people tackle stress at work and at home. Their team of health and professional consultants offers the highest quality consultancy, staff training, event organisation and stress management products.

If you need help tackling stress, visit. www.stress.org.uk

Aveda’s Stress Fix body care range will be available in Aveda Salons, Spas, Stores and online at aveda.com from April.

Most of the other customers in the shop looked on and said nothing, but Anne felt furious. ‘I thought, why should these boys be allowed to get away with it? Is no one going to say anything? I shouted at the second boy, “You don’t just apologise. That doesn’t make it OK”.’ The mugger’s friend ran away, and the boy called the police. What she did, she insists, was nothing. The mugging had already taken place, all she did was stand up for a young boy. But no one else in that shop intervened.

We all know someone like Charvonia – we may even have faced the same sort of dilemma ourselves. But do you know what you’d have done in the same situation? Faced with shocking news stories – such as the death of Richard Whelan, who was stabbed when he stopped a man throwing chips at his girlfriend on a bus – it often feels like the right thing to do is say nothing and walk away. But according to a growing number of psychologists, there is an imperative on all of us to be courageous. Not just because it makes for a better society, but because it’s good for us.

‘Fostering a clear idea of a personal heroic ideal can help guide a person in times of trouble, or moral uncertainty,’ says Philip Zimbardo, professor emeritus of psychology at Stanford University and author of The Lucifer Effect. As creator of the Stanford Prison experiment (in which students instructed to act as guards in a fake prison became shockingly sadistic towards fellow student ‘prisoners’), Zimbardo was one of those groundbreaking researchers who revealed how we really think when confronted with a choice between bravery and inaction. Now, he firmly believes looking for chances to be heroic could have a positive effect on wellbeing. ‘Being able to react heroically, instinctively or spontaneously suggests an internal strength and self-assurance guiding the individual’s moral compass,’ he says.

Heroes-in-waiting

It’s an idea Zimbardo is now actively promoting, with the development of the Heroic Imagination Project. Dedicated to creating ‘a global movement of everyday heroism’, the project’s website lists inspirational resources on compassion, empathy, courage and ‘the helper’s high’ (the euphoria
we feel when we engage in altruistic behaviour). The fledgling movement proudly reports it has more than 800 global ‘heroes-in-waiting’.
In the UK, Sgt Gary Brown of the Lincolnshire police created the Knight School for local six- to 16-year-olds in Spilsby. ‘Knight School is designed for young people, inspiring them to live ethical, purposeful, happy lives,’ says Brown. ‘We examine our principles and character, look at what is right and wrong, and how we know the difference.’ Within three years of its inception, public-order offences in the town fell by 70 per cent.

So far, so inspirational… if you happen to be eight years old. In the past few decades, the antihero has been the more sophisticated option for disaffected Generation X-ers. But, argues Professor Angie Hobbs of the University of Warwick, heroism still performs an essential function for adults, particularly when we’re feeling disillusioned by public figures (MPs’ expenses and bankers, anyone?).

As senior fellow in the public understanding of philosophy, Hobbs is researching a book with the working title ‘Heroism, Courage And Fame’. ‘We still have the same vital need as our forefathers for special people to do special deeds,’ she says. ‘That’s why we are still intensely moved by tales of heroic, everyday actions. These are virtues that are necessary for society to make us feel life is worth living.’

The banality of heroism

So what’s stopping us all striving to be modern-day heroes? Partly, says Hobbs, it is because we have dumbed down the definition of what a true hero is to the point we no longer know what to strive for. Teaching children about the Knights of the Round Table is all very well, but where should a woman in her forties look for inspiration?

‘The concept is not outmoded but the word has been debased,’ says Hobbs. ‘For many, heroes are no longer those who do great things at considerable personal risk. Instead, being a celebrity is enough, or a positive role model or a powerful sports figure.’

Others, however, point to the opposite problem. They suggest our traditional societal heroes (Nelson Mandela, Aung San Suu Kyi, Mother Teresa) are the wrong heroes precisely because they are the exceptions. In teaching our kids that these exceptional people encapsulate the word ‘hero’, we are teaching them the heroic act is unusual, remote and extraordinary.

That, says Dr Julian Baggini, co-founder and editor of The Philosophers’ Magazine, is more damaging than helpful. ‘We conflate hero with superhero, thereby implying heroes are such super-special people their bravery is beyond anything that could be expected of the rest of us,’ he says. ‘In these circumstances, it is easy to fall into the trap of inaction – also known as the bystander effect – and assume it is beyond our abilities to be heroic; that it is someone else’s responsibility to act the hero.’

But by conceiving of heroism as a universal attribute of human nature, not just as a rare feature of the ‘heroic elect’, heroism becomes something that seems within the realm possibility for every person, says Zeno Franco, a colleague of Zimbardo’s based at the Pacific Graduate School of Psychology in California.

‘This “banality of heroism” concept suggests we are all potential heroes waiting for a moment in life to perform a heroic deed,’ he says.

Cultivating courage

So, can heroism be taught? Yes, say Zimbardo and Franco. The key is to develop our ‘heroic imagination’, to envisage how we might act in the heat
of a dangerous moment, what dilemmas we might face, and how we would deal with them. By setting ourselves small challenges, we can cultivate a personal habit of bravery, which equips us for facing the real thing. Part of this strategy involves learning to develop our ‘discontinuity detectors’, an awareness of when something is wrong regardless of what the law or those around us are saying. Crucially, we must also learn to ignore the social anxiety we might feel if we stand firm.

It’s a habit Ellie, 32, wishes she’d had seven years ago. ‘I was on the last train home one Friday when a drunk couple got on, arguing,’ she says. ‘Suddenly he began hitting her really hard, slapping her around the face and shouting at her. I wasn’t the closest to them, so I hesitated to jump up, but then no one else did, and I felt as if I’d lost the moment and was trapped in my seat. I just sat there and pretended I couldn’t see them. When I got off the train I felt such a coward. I was angry with myself and everyone else on that carriage. Why hadn’t we done anything?’

‘Our society needs to consider ways of fostering heroic imagination in all its citizens, particularly in our young,’ urges Zimbardo. ‘We must teach them the seduction of evil will probably be quite ordinary – an unethical colleague or friend, for instance. The call might only come once in your life, and if you pass it by, you’ll always know, “I could have been a hero… and I let it pass me by”.’

How to nurture a heroic imagination
• Maintain constant vigilance for situations that require heroic action.
• Learn not to fear conflict because you took a stand.
• Imagine alternative future scenarios.
• Resist the urge to rationalise and justify inaction.
• Trust people will appreciate heroic (and frequently unpopular) actions.

After a successful collaboration with clinical aromatologist Pierre Franchomme, Aveda will shortly launch its Stress Fix range – a body lotion, £27; bath salts, £29, and a pressure pure-fume rollerball, £21, all infused with a 100 per cent organic aroma made from French-sourced lavender, lavadin and clary sage – a concoction proven to relieve tension and ease the feeling of stress.

To celebrate the launch of this new range, Aveda enlisted the help of The Stress Management Society, which provided the brand with a collection of stress-busting techniques and exercises to recommend. Every day this week we will be posting a tip for you to try at home or at your desk. Enjoy!

Monday 20 February 2012

TRY THIS:

Sit comfortably with your back supported against the back of the chair, feet firmly on the ground, hands and arms open and relaxed.

1) With a deep breath in, raise the shoulders towards the ears and hold them raised for a few seconds. Then slowly breathe out and drop the shoulders. Repeat several times.

2) Place your left hand on your right shoulder. Squeeze gently and then release. Repeat down the right arm to the elbow. Repeat several times. Place your right hand on your left shoulder and repeat the exercise.

3) Place the fingers of both hands at the base of your skull; apply slow circular pressures down from the base of the skull to the base of the neck.

4) Now close your eyes and relax your face muscles. Be aware of your eye muscles, your jaw and your forehead. Place the fingers of both hands on each side of the temples and slowly massage in circular motion. Repeat several times.

5) Finish by cupping your hands over your eyes and holding for several seconds. This helps to release tension and tightness in the face.

ABOUT THE STRESS MANAGEMENT SOCIETY

The Stress Management Society is an organisation dedicated to helping people tackle stress at work and at home. Their team of health and professional consultants offers the highest quality consultancy, staff training, event organisation and stress management products.

If you need help tackling stress, visit. www.stress.org.uk

Aveda’s Stress Fix body care range will be available in Aveda Salons, Spas, Stores and online at aveda.com from April.

Lucy Beresford replies: The fact that you’ve repeated your betrayal reveals you have conflicting needs being met by the current situation. The man who claims he can’t live without you now lives with someone else. It’s possible you haven’t left the security of your marriage because you fear your lover’s unreliability. You stay married because part of you craves safety.

However, another part of you craves excitement. The sporadic relationship with your colleague provides the highs of repeatedly reignited passion. Being desired sexually is flattering, and your lover says he’s unable to live without you, so you feel wanted. The two of you have never had to adjust to day-to-day life as a couple, so you exist in an alluring bubble of ‘forbidden’ lust.

You’re sleep-walking through your life. Only when your husband gave you an ultimatum four years ago did you wake up for a while and try and work at your marriage. Maybe you’re hoping he’ll find out again, saving you the bother of taking responsibility.

To make choices in life we need to understand what it is we want – not perhaps the thing itself, but what it represents. We need to take responsibility for our actions and understand why we choose to repeat our behaviour. Try to work out what you really want and your path will become clearer.

What do you think? Add your comments below.

Send your dilemmas to dilemmas@psychologies.co.uk

David Cronenberg does his best to show passion and madness as inextricably linked, as the disturbed Spielrein gives in to her sadomasochistic sexual desires, while Jung remains aloof and restrained in their covert spanking sessions. The drama demonstrates that Jung was indeed dealing with dangerous issues.

The precarious link between Freud and Jung, the forefathers of psychoanalysis, is the subject of much discussion, but A Dangerous Method places Freud (a marvellous Viggo Mortensen) as a somewhat jovial father figure to the controlled and superstitious Jung. But when Spielrein takes her grievances at the failed romance and enrols in therapy with Freud, the harmonious union and academic alliance becomes fractious.

Casablanca is the story of Rick Blaine (Humphrey Bogart), a hard-drinking, cynical ex-freedom fighter who, in early World War II,  is running a bar in Casablanca, Morocco, the gateway out of Europe for refugees willing to sell their souls for an exit visa. Out of the blue, his life is shaken up by the arrival of old flame Ilsa (Ingrid Bergman). who appears in his bar with her Resistance-leader husband, Victor.

Made in 1942 by director Michael Curtiz, it’s clear why the appeal of Casablanca shows no sign of diminishing. This is a film that ticks all the boxes – bittersweet love story, dry comedy, stylish wartime adventure – and is packed with cracking dialogue, with many choice lines still in cultural consciousness today (think, ‘Here’s looking at you, kid’ and ‘We’ll always have Paris’). Not to mention the timeless appeal of Sam on the piano playing ‘As Time Goes By’. Spine-tingling moments come thick and fast, with Bogart thrilling and seductive as Rick, playing opposite the luminous Bergman, who oozes old-school glamour.

The final moments are the most enduring. Faced with a painful dilemma, Rick rises to the challenge and decides that duty must come first and gallantly sacrifices the only woman he’s ever loved for the greater good. It’s impossible not to come away from Casablanca misty-eyed, a little in love with Bogart and with faith in human nature firmly intact.