I feel…good?

How do you feel?

Never mind.

That sounds harsh, doesn’t it? After all, most people who were not raised by wolves ask about another’s mental/physical/emotional status as a matter of course. These inquiries range from the deeply sincere—the expression of concern by a good friend, for example—to the merely polite—a conversation opener with someone whose welfare isn’t top of mind. But we ask it, nevertheless.

Should we?

Last weekend, The Wall Street Journal published an essay titled, “Stop Constantly Asking Kids How They Feel,” by Abigail Shrier.* It was adapted from Ms. Schrier’s new book, Bad Therapy: Why the Kids Aren’t Growing Up.

The subhead sums up Ms. Shrier’s premise: “Emotion ‘check-ins’ can encourage a self-destructive mindset in young people, who need to learn to manage and sometimes ignore their fleeting feelings.”

See what I mean?

I’m no longer raising children, and I’m not around them often. Mr. Pettit and I enjoy seeing our grandchildren when schedules permit, but even then, we’re like the circus coming to town, more entertainers than trainers.

But this column has circulated in my brain over the past week because it’s not about kids only.

It’s about all of us.

Ms. Shrier tells this story: As she interviewed Michael Linden, a professor of psychiatry at the Charité University Hospital in Berlin, he broke in with a question of his own: “How are you feeling?” He stopped her from answering with the usual “Good,” by saying, “You don’t feel happy at this moment. You are concentrating on the interview.”

At that point she took note of her fatigue, her worry about whether her children would interrupt her, her concern about her appearance. “Being more aware of, and precise about, my current feelings elicited primarily negative thoughts.”

Ms. Shrier adds that, “Studies have consistently shown that the more adults value happiness, the less happy they tend to be.” After discussing problems experienced by children trained to focus on their feelings, she concludes her essay this way:

Instead of obsessing over the happiness of our kids, which pushes them to overvalue their own emotions, we can encourage them to set goals and take risks. The world outside of their own heads turns out to be a worthy distraction from the turbulent gloom of adolescence. It may also contain the cure.

When I put myself in that paragraph, the truth lands very close to home. I shouldn’t obsess over my happiness. I shouldn’t overvalue emotions. I should take a look at the world beyond myself.

I don’t think I’m being delusional when I say I don’t obsess over happiness. Not my own, anyway. But sometimes I do ruminate about the happiness of my friends and family.

As a writer, my understanding of how the human heart reacts to events is an asset—emotions bring fiction and nonfiction to life. But I fight an ongoing battle to draw the line between understanding and excessive examination (especially self-examination).

Of course, God has been trying to tell us this for years. Thousands of years.

Then Jesus said to his disciples, “If any of you wants to be my follower, you must turn from your selfish ways, take up your cross, and follow me. If you try to hang on to your life, you will lose it. But if you give up your life for my sake, you will save it. And what do you benefit if you gain the whole world but lose your own soul? Is anything worth more than your soul?” Matthew 16:24-26 (NLT)

As I reflect on my spiritual health during this Lenten season, I must remember that my feelings at any given moment—whether anxious or elated, lethargic or energized—are as substantial as a breeze. My sense of identity shouldn’t be tied to the buoy of emotion, bobbing up and down with the waves. Rather, I must recall morning and evening that my line has been cast around the Rock, strong and utterly steadfast.

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever. Hebrews 13:8 (ESV)

*”Stop Constantly Asking Kids How They Feel,” Abigail Shrier, The Wall Street Journal, Saturday/Sunday, March 9-10, 2024