We live in a material world whose main quality is inertia (惯性), which is also one of our main qualities. Our physical bodies, as well as our personalities, naturally obey the law of inertia—we’re lazy, more or less.

When there is nothing to push us forward, as pain does, we can sink deep into the quicksand of slackness (懒散). It’s our nature and we must not blame ourselves for that. As a consequence, a painful experience arising from that quicksand of our inactivity pushes us ahead. Thanks to these shocks and injuries, we have gained depth of personality. Therefore, our wounds are blessings, too.

However, those painful experiences can leave deep scars in our mind. They inevitably influence our whole life in defeating and limiting ways. They produce negative beliefs, bad habits, wrong decisions, painful emotions, and so on. Although they have enabled us to mature and grow up, it’s obvious that we have to restore them.

The source of our pain is our attachment to countless experiences. Our attachments can be positive or negative, i. e. those experiences that we want to have, or those that we try to avoid. When we cannot gain what we need, or when we cannot avoid what we fear, we suffer. Painful life experiences usually gather within our mind into numerous aspects of personality, such as limiting beliefs, bad decisions, basic negative emotions and so on. They all have huge impact on our lives.

There are only two paths ahead of us: either we will continue to gain the depth of our being through suffering, or we will continue with our growth by dealing with suffering. The latter is much more pleasurable, faster and effective. But it still requires effort and continual work. The decision is up to us only.

We were five minutes into a severe winter storm — approaching Boston’s Logan International Airport when I turned to the woman next to me and said, “Hey, would you mind chatting with me for a few minutes?” My seatmate seemed friendly and I suddenly felt desperate for a human connection.

“Sure. My name is Sue,” the woman replied, smiling warmly. “What brings you to Boston?” I started to explain that I was on a business trip. Then the plane trembled violently, and I blurted out, “I might need to hold your hand too.” Sue took my hand in both of hers, patted it, and held on tight.

Sometimes a stranger can significantly improve our day. A pleasant meeting with someone we don’t know, even an unspoken exchange, can calm us when no one else is around. It may get us out of our own heads — a proven mood lifter — and help broaden our vision. Sandstrom, a psychologist and senior lecturer at the University of Essex, has found that people’s moods improve after they have a conversation with a stranger. And yet most of us resist talking to people we don’t know or barely know. We worry about how to start, maintain, or stop it. We think we will keep talking and disclose too much, or not talk enough. We are afraid we will bore the other person. We’re typically wrong.

In a study in which Sandstrom asked participants to talk to at least one stranger a day for five days, 99 percent said they had found at least one of the exchanges pleasantly surprising, 82 percent said they’d learned something from one of the strangers, 43 percent had exchanged contact information, and 40 percent had communicated with one of the strangers again.

You don’t even have to talk to complete strangers to obtain the benefit. Multiple studies show that people who interact regularly with passing acquaintances or who engage with others through community groups, religious gatherings, or volunteer opportunities have better emotional and physical health and live longer than those who do not. One person took up the cell phone after chatting with a woman on the subway who was carrying one. Another recalled how the smile of a fruit salesman from whom he regularly bought bananas made him feel less lonely after he’d first arrived in a new city.

When Sue took my hand on that scary flight to Boston, I almost wept with relief. “Hey, this is a little bumpy, but we will be on the ground safely soon,” she told me. She looked so encouraging, and confident. I asked her what she did for a living. “I’m a retired physical education teacher, and I coached women’s volleyball,” she said. Immediately, I could see what an awesome coach she must have been.

When we said goodbye, I gave Sue a big hug and my card. A few days later, I received an e-mail with the subject line “Broken hand on Jet Blue.” “I have to admit that I was just as scared as you were but did not say it,” Sue wrote. “I just squeezed your hand as hard as I could. Thank you for helping me through this very scary situation.” She added that when she’d told her friends about our conversation, they teased her because they know she loves to talk. I told my friends about Sue too. I explained how kind she was to me, and what I learned: It’s OK to ask for help from a stranger if you need it. Now if I mention to my friends that I am stressed or worried, they respond, “Just think of Sue!”

The first patient who died on my watch was an older man with a faulty heart. We tried to slow it down with treatment, but it suddenly stopped beating completely. Later, whenever I would have a case like that one, I found myself second-guessing my clinical management. However, it turns out that thinking twice may actually cause more harm than good.

In a working paper, Emory University researchers found that when doctors delivering a baby have a bad result, they are more likely to switch to a different delivery method with the next patient, often unnecessarily and sometimes with worse results.

Because doctors make so many decisions that have serious consequences, the fallout from second-guessing appears especially large for us. A 2006 study found that if a patient had a bleed after being prescribed (开药) warfarin, the physician was about 20% less likely to prescribe later patients the blood thinner that prevents strokes (中风). However, if a patient was not on warfarin and had a stroke physicians were still no more likely to prescribe warfarin to their other patients.

These findings highlight interesting behavioral patterns in doctors. In the blood-thinner study, doctors were more affected by the act of doing harm (prescribing a blood thinner that ended up hurting doctors were more affected by the act of doing harm(prescribing a blood thinner that ended up hurting a patient) and less affected by letting harm happen (not prescribing a blood thinner and the patient having a stroke). Yet a stroke is often more permanent and damaging than a bleed.

But this phenomenon is not unique to medicine. ''Overreaction to Fearsome Risks'' holds true for broader society.

For instance, sensational headlines about shark attacks on humans in Florida in 2001 caused a panic and led the state to prohibit shark-feeding expeditions. Yet shark attacks had actually fallen that year and, according to the study, such a change was probably unnecessary given the extremely small risk of such an attack happening.

Humans are likely to be influenced by emotional and often irrational (不理性的) thinking when processing information, bad events and mistakes. As much as we don't want to cause an unfortunate event to happen again, we need to be aware that a worst situation that can be imagined doesn't necessarily mean we did anything wrong. When we overthink, we fail to rely on thinking based on what we know or have experienced. Instead, we may involuntarily overanalyze and come to the wrong conclusion.

I have treated dozens of patients who presented with the same illnesses as my first patient, who died more than a year ago. Instead of second-guessing myself, I trusted my clinical instinct (本能) and stayed the course. Every one of those patients survived. You should trust your instinct in your life, too.