To Fall in Love With Anyone, Do This
如何快速與陌生人相愛(ài)
More than 20 years ago, the psychologist Arthur Aron succeeded in making two strangers fall in love in his laboratory. Last summer, I applied his technique in my own life, which is how I found myself standing on a bridge at midnight, staring into a man’s eyes for exactly four minutes.
20多年前,心理學(xué)家阿瑟·亞倫(Arthur Aron)成功地在他的實(shí)驗(yàn)室里令兩個(gè)陌生人相愛(ài)了。去年夏天,我把他的方法應(yīng)用到自己的生活里去——午夜時(shí)分,我站在一座橋上,凝視對(duì)面男人的眼睛,四分鐘之久。
Let me explain. Earlier in the evening, that man had said: “I suspect, given a few commonalities, you could fall in love with anyone. If so, how do you choose someone?”
讓我解釋一下。當(dāng)晚早些時(shí)候,那個(gè)男人說(shuō):“我覺(jué)得,假如有一些共性,你就可以愛(ài)上任何人。如果真是這樣,那人們又是如何選擇到底會(huì)愛(ài)上誰(shuí)呢?”
He was a university acquaintance I occasionally ran into at the climbing gym and had thought, “What if?” I had gotten a glimpse into his days on Instagram. But this was the first time we had hung out one-on-one.
他是我在大學(xué)里的熟人,偶爾會(huì)在攀巖館里遇到他,也想過(guò)“在一起會(huì)怎樣呢?”我在他的Instagram照片上看過(guò)他的生活,但是那次是我們第一次單獨(dú)出去玩。
“Actually, psychologists have tried making people fall in love,” I said, remembering Dr. Aron’s study. “It’s fascinating. I’ve always wanted to try it.”
“事實(shí)上,心理學(xué)家試過(guò)讓人們相愛(ài),”我想起了亞倫的研究。“很有意思,我一直都想試試看。”
I first read about the study when I was in the midst of a breakup. Each time I thought of leaving, my heart overruled my brain. I felt stuck. So, like a good academic, I turned to science, hoping there was a way to love smarter.
我第一次讀到這個(gè)研究是在某次分手期間。每當(dāng)想起要分手,我的感情就會(huì)戰(zhàn)勝理智。我覺(jué)得很糟糕。所以,我像個(gè)好的學(xué)者那樣求助于科學(xué),希望能有更好的戀愛(ài)方式。
I explained the study to my university acquaintance. A heterosexual man and woman enter the lab through separate doors. They sit face to face and answer a series of increasingly personal questions. Then they stare silently into each other’s eyes for four minutes. The most tantalizing detail: Six months later, two participants were married. They invited the entire lab to the ceremony.
我向這位大學(xué)里的熟人介紹了這個(gè)研究。一對(duì)異性戀男女從不同的門(mén)進(jìn)入實(shí)驗(yàn)室。兩人面對(duì)面坐著,回答一系列愈來(lái)愈個(gè)人化的問(wèn)題。然后他們靜靜對(duì)視四分鐘。然后最煽情的事情發(fā)生了:六個(gè)月后,兩個(gè)人結(jié)婚了。他們還邀請(qǐng)整個(gè)實(shí)驗(yàn)室的人來(lái)參加婚禮。
“Let’s try it,” he said.
“咱們也試試吧,”他說(shuō)。
Let me acknowledge the ways our experiment already fails to line up with the study. First, we were in a bar, not a lab. Second, we weren’t strangers. Not only that, but I see now that one neither suggests nor agrees to try an experiment designed to create romantic love if one isn’t open to this happening.
我得承認(rèn),我們的實(shí)驗(yàn)并不符合那項(xiàng)研究的要求。首先,我們是在酒吧,而不是實(shí)驗(yàn)室。其次,我們不是陌生人。不僅如此,現(xiàn)在我明白,假如一個(gè)人不期待和對(duì)方發(fā)生浪漫戀情,那么就不會(huì)向?qū)Ψ教嶙h或答應(yīng)對(duì)方進(jìn)行一項(xiàng)旨在增進(jìn)浪漫戀情的實(shí)驗(yàn)。
I Googled Dr. Aron’s questions; there are 36. We spent the next two hours passing my iPhone across the table, alternately posing each question.
我用谷歌搜索了亞倫博士的問(wèn)題,共有36個(gè)。我們對(duì)坐在桌邊,輪流看我的iPhone手機(jī)回答問(wèn)題,花了兩個(gè)小時(shí)。
They began innocuously: “Would you like to be famous? In what way?” And “When did you last sing to yourself? To someone else?”
一開(kāi)始是無(wú)傷大雅的問(wèn)題:“你想出名嗎?以什么樣的方式出名?”以及“你上次自己唱起歌來(lái)是什么時(shí)候,給別人唱呢?”
But they quickly became probing.
但問(wèn)題很快就變得深入心靈。
In response to the prompt, “Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common,” he looked at me and said, “I think we’re both interested in each other.”
回答“說(shuō)出三個(gè)你和對(duì)方的共同點(diǎn)”這個(gè)問(wèn)題的時(shí)候,他看著我說(shuō),“我覺(jué)得我們都對(duì)對(duì)方感興趣。”
I grinned and gulped my beer as he listed two more commonalities I then promptly forgot. We exchanged stories about the last time we each cried, and confessed the one thing we’d like to ask a fortuneteller. We explained our relationships with our mothers.
我笑著喝了一大口啤酒,接下來(lái)他說(shuō)了另外兩個(gè)共同點(diǎn),但我很快就忘了。我們給對(duì)方講了我們上一次為什么哭,也向?qū)Ψ教拱琢俗约喝松械睦Щ螅€說(shuō)了自己和母親之間的關(guān)系。
The questions reminded me of the infamous boiling frog experiment in which the frog doesn’t feel the water getting hotter until it’s too late. With us, because the level of vulnerability increased gradually, I didn’t notice we had entered intimate territory until we were already there, a process that can typically take weeks or months.
這些問(wèn)題讓我想起那個(gè)臭名昭著的溫水煮青蛙實(shí)驗(yàn),實(shí)驗(yàn)中,青蛙無(wú)法感覺(jué)到水溫逐漸升高,直到被煮熟為止,這時(shí)已經(jīng)來(lái)不及了。而我們呢,在回答問(wèn)題的過(guò)程中,我們的脆弱程度逐漸提高,不知不覺(jué)中,我們已經(jīng)漸漸進(jìn)入了彼此的私密領(lǐng)域,這個(gè)過(guò)程通常需要幾周乃至數(shù)月。
I liked learning about myself through my answers, but I liked learning things about him even more. The bar, which was empty when we arrived, had filled up by the time we paused for a bathroom break.
我喜歡在回答問(wèn)題的同時(shí)了解我自己的感覺(jué),但我更喜歡了解他。我們進(jìn)來(lái)的時(shí)候,酒吧還是空空蕩蕩的,但后來(lái)我們中間停下來(lái)上廁所時(shí),我才發(fā)現(xiàn)人已經(jīng)擠滿了。
I sat alone at our table, aware of my surroundings for the first time in an hour, and wondered if anyone had been listening to our conversation. If they had, I hadn’t noticed. And I didn’t notice as the crowd thinned and the night got late.
我獨(dú)自坐在桌邊,這是一個(gè)小時(shí)以來(lái)我第一次意識(shí)到周邊事物的存在,想著會(huì)不會(huì)有什么人正在聽(tīng)我們的對(duì)話。如果有,那我也根本沒(méi)注意到。后來(lái)酒吧里的人漸漸離去,我也同樣沒(méi)注意到。
We all have a narrative of ourselves that we offer up to strangers and acquaintances, but Dr. Aron’s questions make it impossible to rely on that narrative. Ours was the kind of accelerated intimacy I remembered from summer camp, staying up all night with a new friend, exchanging the details of our short lives. At 13, away from home for the first time, it felt natural to get to know someone quickly. But rarely does adult life present us with such circumstances.
我們都有一套關(guān)于自己的說(shuō)辭,用來(lái)提供給陌生人或點(diǎn)頭之交,但亞倫博士的問(wèn)題讓你不可能依賴那套說(shuō)辭。我們的交談就像小時(shí)候在夏令營(yíng),和新朋友整晚不睡,交流自己短短人生中的各種細(xì)節(jié),快速增進(jìn)友誼。13歲,第一次遠(yuǎn)離家鄉(xiāng)的時(shí)候,快速了解別人是很自然的事情。但成年后就很少有這樣的環(huán)境了。
The moments I found most uncomfortable were not when I had to make confessions about myself, but had to venture opinions about my partner. For example: “Alternate sharing something you consider a positive characteristic of your partner, a total of five items” (Question 22), and “Tell your partner what you like about them; be very honest this time saying things you might not say to someone you’ve just met” (Question 28).
最讓我不舒服的并不是需要坦白自己的那些問(wèn)題,而是必須冒險(xiǎn)評(píng)價(jià)對(duì)方的問(wèn)題。比如“交替說(shuō)出對(duì)方身上優(yōu)點(diǎn),每人說(shuō)五個(gè)”(第22個(gè)問(wèn)題),以及“告訴對(duì)方你喜歡他身上的什么東西,要誠(chéng)實(shí),說(shuō)出你不會(huì)對(duì)萍水之交說(shuō)出的東西”(第28個(gè)問(wèn)題)。
Much of Dr. Aron’s research focuses on creating interpersonal closeness. In particular, several studies investigate the ways we incorporate others into our sense of self. It’s easy to see how the questions encourage what they call “self-expansion.” Saying things like, “I like your voice, your taste in beer, the way all your friends seem to admire you,” makes certain positive qualities belonging to one person explicitly valuable to the other.
亞倫博士的研究主要關(guān)注創(chuàng)造人與人之間的親密感。有幾項(xiàng)研究特別審視我們?nèi)绾螌⑺苏系轿覀儗?duì)自我的意識(shí)中去。很容易看出,這些問(wèn)題鼓勵(lì)他們所謂的“自我膨脹”。說(shuō)些諸如“我喜歡你的聲音,你對(duì)啤酒的品位,你的朋友們好像都很仰慕你”之類的話,確實(shí)能夠幫你看清一個(gè)人對(duì)他人明顯有價(jià)值的積極特質(zhì)。
It’s astounding, really, to hear what someone admires in you. I don’t know why we don’t go around thoughtfully complimenting one another all the time.
聽(tīng)別人說(shuō)他仰慕你什么地方,這確實(shí)很令人震驚。我不知道我們平時(shí)為什么竟然沒(méi)有隨時(shí)去好好恭維別人。
We finished at midnight, taking far longer than the 90 minutes for the original study. Looking around the bar, I felt as if I had just woken up. “That wasn’t so bad,” I said. “Definitely less uncomfortable than the staring into each other’s eyes part would be.”
我們直到午夜時(shí)分才結(jié)束,比原始版本的研究多花了90分鐘時(shí)間。環(huán)視酒吧四周,我仿佛大夢(mèng)初醒一般。“這不壞,”我說(shuō),“比兩人雙目對(duì)視那部分好得多。”
He hesitated and asked. “Do you think we should do that, too?”
他遲疑了一下,說(shuō)。“你覺(jué)得我們應(yīng)該做那件事嗎?”
“Here?” I looked around the bar. It seemed too weird, too public.
“在這兒?”我環(huán)視四周,感覺(jué)有點(diǎn)怪,太公開(kāi)了。
“We could stand on the bridge,” he said, turning toward the window.
“我們可以到那座橋上去,”他轉(zhuǎn)向窗子說(shuō)。
The night was warm and I was wide-awake. We walked to the highest point, then turned to face each other. I fumbled with my phone as I set the timer.
那是一個(gè)溫暖的夜,我頭腦很清醒。我們走上橋中間,然后面對(duì)面地站著。我笨拙地摸出手機(jī)來(lái)定時(shí)。
“O.K.,” I said, inhaling sharply.
“好的,”我深深吸了口氣。
“O.K.,” he said, smiling.
“好的,”他微笑。
I’ve skied steep slopes and hung from a rock face by a short length of rope, but staring into someone’s eyes for four silent minutes was one of the more thrilling and terrifying experiences of my life. I spent the first couple of minutes just trying to breathe properly. There was a lot of nervous smiling until, eventually, we settled in.
我曾經(jīng)沿著陡坡滑雪,曾經(jīng)腰間系著短繩攀巖,但在整整四分鐘里靜靜凝視一個(gè)人的眼睛是我一生中最精彩也是最刺激的體驗(yàn)。頭幾分鐘里,我試著調(diào)整呼吸。后來(lái)我們又神經(jīng)質(zhì)地笑起來(lái),最后終于安靜下來(lái)。
I know the eyes are the windows to the soul or whatever, but the real crux of the moment was not just that I was really seeing someone, but that I was seeing someone really seeing me. Once I embraced the terror of this realization and gave it time to subside, I arrived somewhere unexpected.
我知道眼睛是靈魂的窗口之類說(shuō)法,但那一刻的核心并不在于“我是真的在看某人”,而在于“我看到某人是真的在看我”。一旦我開(kāi)始接受這種認(rèn)知中可怕的成分,讓不適感慢慢消失,我就進(jìn)入了未曾預(yù)料到的境界。
I felt brave, and in a state of wonder. Part of that wonder was at my own vulnerability and part was the weird kind of wonder you get from saying a word over and over until it loses its meaning and becomes what it actually is: an assemblage of sounds.
我感覺(jué)很勇敢,進(jìn)入了一種奇跡般的境地。部分是由于我自身的脆弱,部分是由于一種怪異的驚奇之感,你不再喋喋不休,言語(yǔ)已經(jīng)喪失它的意義,恢復(fù)了它的本來(lái)面目:一大堆聲音的組合。
So it was with the eye, which is not a window to anything but rather a clump of very useful cells. The sentiment associated with the eye fell away and I was struck by its astounding biological reality: the spherical nature of the eyeball, the visible musculature of the iris and the smooth wet glass of the cornea. It was strange and exquisite.
所以這就是眼睛,它不是任何東西的窗口,只是一團(tuán)非常有用處的細(xì)胞。之后這種關(guān)于“眼睛”的想法也消失了,我開(kāi)始注意到它驚人的生理特征:眼球的球狀結(jié)構(gòu),虹膜上清晰可見(jiàn)的肌肉組織與平滑、濕潤(rùn)、透明的角膜。又奇異又精致。
When the timer buzzed, I was surprised — and a little relieved. But I also felt a sense of loss. Already I was beginning to see our evening through the surreal and unreliable lens of retrospect.
定時(shí)器嗡嗡響起,我吃驚之余,不免微微松了口氣。但我仍然感覺(jué)若有所失。這時(shí),我已經(jīng)開(kāi)始從超現(xiàn)實(shí)和不可靠的角度來(lái)看待這個(gè)晚上。
Most of us think about love as something that happens to us. We fall. We get crushed.
大多數(shù)人覺(jué)得“愛(ài)情”是突然發(fā)生在我們身上的事情,我們墮入愛(ài)河,我們?yōu)楸舜藘A倒。
But what I like about this study is how it assumes that love is an action. It assumes that what matters to my partner matters to me because we have at least three things in common, because we have close relationships with our mothers, and because he let me look at him.
但我喜歡這項(xiàng)研究的一點(diǎn)是,它把“愛(ài)情”當(dāng)做一種行為。它假定對(duì)于對(duì)方有效的東西,對(duì)我來(lái)說(shuō)同樣有效,因?yàn)槲覀冎辽儆腥齻€(gè)特征是一樣的,因?yàn)槲覀兌己湍赣H保持著親密的關(guān)系,因?yàn)樗试S我凝視他。
I wondered what would come of our interaction. If nothing else, I thought it would make a good story. But I see now that the story isn’t about us; it’s about what it means to bother to know someone, which is really a story about what it means to be known.
我猜想我們之間的關(guān)系會(huì)怎樣發(fā)展。至少我覺(jué)得這算是個(gè)好故事。但我現(xiàn)在明白,這個(gè)故事不是關(guān)于我們兩人的,而是關(guān)于費(fèi)心去了解別人有多么重要,“被人了解的意義”,這確實(shí)是個(gè)好故事。
It’s true you can’t choose who loves you, although I’ve spent years hoping otherwise, and you can’t create romantic feelings based on convenience alone. Science tells us biology matters; our pheromones and hormones do a lot of work behind the scenes.
確實(shí),你不能選擇讓誰(shuí)來(lái)愛(ài)上你,盡管多年來(lái)我一直希望可以這樣選擇;你也不能僅僅為了自己方便就創(chuàng)造出浪漫氣氛??茖W(xué)告訴我們,生物學(xué)起到了作用,我們的信息素與激素在戀愛(ài)過(guò)程中扮演很重要的角色。
But despite all this, I’ve begun to think love is a more pliable thing than we make it out to be. Arthur Aron’s study taught me that it’s possible — simple, even — to generate trust and intimacy, the feelings love needs to thrive.
但是盡管如此,我開(kāi)始認(rèn)為,戀愛(ài)其實(shí)比我們所想的更加靈活。阿瑟·艾倫的研究讓我懂得,創(chuàng)造信任與親密的感覺(jué)是有可能的,甚至還很簡(jiǎn)單,而愛(ài)情正需要信任與親密的滋養(yǎng)。