So... it's 2:42 am. I've finished cleaning the apartment. I'm totally packed. Prepared to pay a fortune for an oversized bag and a box that I was not expecting to have to bring home (planning ahead is apparently not one of my strengths). Sitting on the couch wondering what comes next.
Deep down, I know I'm tired. I mean, it's 2:42 in the morning. But I can't bring myself to go to bed. If I go to bed, it's over. I wake up in the morning, make a mad dash to the post-office, and then the airport, and then suddenly... back to Philadelphia.
I don't know what it is about me and places.
I took an urban studies research class in high school where we studied "sense of place"--the significance people impart to their surroundings. In other words, why live here instead of there? Where does "local pride" come from? What does local even mean? The premise of the class was that place is a completely abstract concept. Despite the fact that it's concrete-- you can go someplace. There are buildings and streets, and names etc. A place doesn't exist outside of what people make of it.
I feel very strongly about place, particularly about place and happiness. If you don't "fit" in the place where you are (if your sense of self is at odds with your location's sense of place), then it will be very difficult to be happy. Not impossible, I don't think, but difficult.
The trick is to define (or re-define) your location in terms that mesh with your sense of self.
Part of my problem with Philadelphia, I think, is that the city's sense of place doesn't fit my own personality. I like it there. It's a nice place to be. Penn is a good school. But... it always feels like something's missing. It's always a struggle to have to return.
Of course, returning to Philadelphia throws into question this particular endeavor. After all, the California Project was only valid while I remained in California. What now?
I can't abandon my quest for happiness. Especially now that I'm going someplace where I face even more adversity. But, I do need time for evaluation and reflection.
How have I do so far? What needs to change? Where have I failed, and where did I succeed?
Of course, if anyone is out there reading this... Would you start again with me once school starts? A sort of happiness renaissance, if you will?
What do you want to know?
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Monday, August 30, 2010
Complainasaurous
I am a Complainasaurous. It is, according to Adam, a new species of dinosaur recently discovered on the North American continent.
Really, I just let the little things get me down. I dwell. I hold grudges. I get pissed about things, and then I look for excuses for my bad mood-- and then that just prolongs it. This weekend, my computer broke. I went out a bought a new one. I am lucky enough that this was not a huge problem, but a mild inconvenience. Still, every time I feel myself being bothered, I think, "my computer broke. My phone broke (it did. I have to go back to the Apple store today). I have so many reasons to be in a bad mood."
I googled "How to improve your mood" and it came up with 21 suggestions (some of which seem VERY silly). I found 5 that I'm going to try:
1. Be curious. People who are interested in people and other things are more likely to be happy.
2. Don't dwell on the past. My friend has a motto "forgive yourself, move on." It's better to focus on improving the future than moping over what you should have done. I need to find better coping strategies for so many of my problems, rather than sink down into sadness for what I don't handle well.
3. Act the Part. Apparently, if you pretend to be happy, you'll be happy.
4. Breathe deeply. People who suffer from depression often are shallow breathers.
5. Don't eat junk food. The spike of sugar improves your mood, but once your blood sugar drops, you get really depressed.
Really, I do not have good reasons for being upset. Making excuses doesn't do anybody any good. I know that. I also know that the reason I am falling into a perpetual bad mood is because I am going back. I leave California tomorrow. But, that doesn't mean that I have to give up everything that California means. I can take so much of this with me. I keep telling myself that, at least.
Really, I just let the little things get me down. I dwell. I hold grudges. I get pissed about things, and then I look for excuses for my bad mood-- and then that just prolongs it. This weekend, my computer broke. I went out a bought a new one. I am lucky enough that this was not a huge problem, but a mild inconvenience. Still, every time I feel myself being bothered, I think, "my computer broke. My phone broke (it did. I have to go back to the Apple store today). I have so many reasons to be in a bad mood."
I googled "How to improve your mood" and it came up with 21 suggestions (some of which seem VERY silly). I found 5 that I'm going to try:
1. Be curious. People who are interested in people and other things are more likely to be happy.
2. Don't dwell on the past. My friend has a motto "forgive yourself, move on." It's better to focus on improving the future than moping over what you should have done. I need to find better coping strategies for so many of my problems, rather than sink down into sadness for what I don't handle well.
3. Act the Part. Apparently, if you pretend to be happy, you'll be happy.
4. Breathe deeply. People who suffer from depression often are shallow breathers.
5. Don't eat junk food. The spike of sugar improves your mood, but once your blood sugar drops, you get really depressed.
Really, I do not have good reasons for being upset. Making excuses doesn't do anybody any good. I know that. I also know that the reason I am falling into a perpetual bad mood is because I am going back. I leave California tomorrow. But, that doesn't mean that I have to give up everything that California means. I can take so much of this with me. I keep telling myself that, at least.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Just When it Look like Everything Worked Out...
I'm starting to believe that this is a way for two people to communicate and come to a compromise, although for some reason, that never seems to be how it turns out.
All of the problems of this morning disappeared this afternoon-- and were replaced by more concrete, unmanageable problems.
Suddenly I'm wondering, how much do I want my Penn degree? And if I can get a degree, how much do I want the degree I chose?
Happiness, as I keep on realizing, is largely the ability to accurately value everything in our lives. Well, more than that-- it's the ability to relatively value things accurately. That is-- how much do I value the degree I chose over the opportunity that's presented itself? How much do I value the ability to graduate in a semester versus having to take summer classes? How much do I value that ability to make money (with a job) versus losing money paying rent in two different cities?
And then, how much do I value my future? And how can I even try to value my future when I don't know what's going to create a future or where along the line I'm going to make a mistake?
All of the problems of this morning disappeared this afternoon-- and were replaced by more concrete, unmanageable problems.
Suddenly I'm wondering, how much do I want my Penn degree? And if I can get a degree, how much do I want the degree I chose?
Happiness, as I keep on realizing, is largely the ability to accurately value everything in our lives. Well, more than that-- it's the ability to relatively value things accurately. That is-- how much do I value the degree I chose over the opportunity that's presented itself? How much do I value the ability to graduate in a semester versus having to take summer classes? How much do I value that ability to make money (with a job) versus losing money paying rent in two different cities?
And then, how much do I value my future? And how can I even try to value my future when I don't know what's going to create a future or where along the line I'm going to make a mistake?
Wednesday. My Day Off.
Just for the record, I swear that as soon as I finish writing this, I am going to Starbucks, getting a GIANT chai tea, and writing at least three more pages of Mr. Mao. I'm saying it upfront so the entire world knows it and I can't back out.
The past 24 hours with me would be a psychologist's dream. Actually, just this morning provides an adequate example--
I couldn't sleep last night. I woke up early, probably because of the weird dreams. Unable to concentrate at home, I walked to Starbucks. When I found out that I wasn't going into work today, I walked back home. Then, decided to go shopping. I got my hair cut at a completely random place, a walk-in, where I confessed all my problems to the hairdresser (if you don't know me, that is very unusual). I also bought a second pair or earings to wear in the double piercings that I never wear. I contemplated re-piercing my nose, but decided against it. I'm sitting here re-reading the description of my day, eyebrows raised, wondering if I sound as crazy as I think I do.
Really, this is all coming from some weird insecurity that I'm not "cool" enough. I know it, but I'm not strong enough to fight against it.
I'm doing stupid ineffective things like getting my hair cut and buying earings to try and answer the question: Am I the kind of person who throws their plans out the window?
I used to be. That's why I was contemplating the nose piercing. Freshman year of college I decided to get my nose pierced-- that was the weekend I'd decided to cut class and convinced Adam and Monica to go to DC. I just walked into a place and did it. Of course, things like that don't work out with me. It got infected and one thing led to another... Even so, I wonder if I'd still have it today.
Okay, let's be honest. Here's what I'm actually trying to ask: How are we supposed to make happiness-based decisions? I wrote a week ago that there is no future, but I'm realizing now that that's not entirely true. Even if the future is an abstract concept, eventually it becomes the present, and in the present we have to face decisions we made in the past. Duh. But how are we supposed to know what's going to make us the happiest?
I'm facing a decision that's so obvious it seems stupid I'm conflicted about it (with the exception that I might not graduate from college). There's every reason to go one way, except-- how much do I care about my relationship? How in love am I, and am I about to ruin that, again? These days, they tell girls that careers should come first; that we should never compromise "who we are" for someone else. But what if that other person has become a part of who we are? What do we do then?
The past 24 hours with me would be a psychologist's dream. Actually, just this morning provides an adequate example--
I couldn't sleep last night. I woke up early, probably because of the weird dreams. Unable to concentrate at home, I walked to Starbucks. When I found out that I wasn't going into work today, I walked back home. Then, decided to go shopping. I got my hair cut at a completely random place, a walk-in, where I confessed all my problems to the hairdresser (if you don't know me, that is very unusual). I also bought a second pair or earings to wear in the double piercings that I never wear. I contemplated re-piercing my nose, but decided against it. I'm sitting here re-reading the description of my day, eyebrows raised, wondering if I sound as crazy as I think I do.
Really, this is all coming from some weird insecurity that I'm not "cool" enough. I know it, but I'm not strong enough to fight against it.
I'm doing stupid ineffective things like getting my hair cut and buying earings to try and answer the question: Am I the kind of person who throws their plans out the window?
I used to be. That's why I was contemplating the nose piercing. Freshman year of college I decided to get my nose pierced-- that was the weekend I'd decided to cut class and convinced Adam and Monica to go to DC. I just walked into a place and did it. Of course, things like that don't work out with me. It got infected and one thing led to another... Even so, I wonder if I'd still have it today.
Okay, let's be honest. Here's what I'm actually trying to ask: How are we supposed to make happiness-based decisions? I wrote a week ago that there is no future, but I'm realizing now that that's not entirely true. Even if the future is an abstract concept, eventually it becomes the present, and in the present we have to face decisions we made in the past. Duh. But how are we supposed to know what's going to make us the happiest?
I'm facing a decision that's so obvious it seems stupid I'm conflicted about it (with the exception that I might not graduate from college). There's every reason to go one way, except-- how much do I care about my relationship? How in love am I, and am I about to ruin that, again? These days, they tell girls that careers should come first; that we should never compromise "who we are" for someone else. But what if that other person has become a part of who we are? What do we do then?
Monday, August 23, 2010
Train
Today, I made a bad decision. I can’t go back on it, so I’m trying very, very hard to live with it.
I’m currently (well, not currently as when this is posted, but currently as when I am writing this) on the train from LA to San Diego. It has some fancy name like Skyliner or Skynet; I don’t remember. The point is, I am stuck on a train going no more than forty miles an hour, without internet, and WITHOUT MY PHONE.
You’ve seen me post about my phone several times. I’m kind of attached. My phone was stolen last May and it was a very traumatic experience.
I realized I didn’t have my phone 5 minutes before the train left. I reached into my bag and voilà—no phone. Panicked, I emptied the bag, twice. I remember searching through the bag earlier this morning for the little pouch to put the phone in. I remember putting the phone in the pouch. I have no idea if I then put the phone into the bag. If I did not, it’s still at home. If I did, then it’s somewhere in my car, or mysteriously disappeared in the walk from the car to the train station. What could I do? I ran off the train. The conductor stopped me—obviously I was crazy. Who misses a train because they can’t find their phone? The next train was at 8:30, an hour from now. That would put me into San Diego at 10:30, which I had decided yesterday was too late. I stood on the platform, torn. Then I jumped onto the train.
Now I’m pouting on the top row of the train, listening to it hoot joyfully and I’m not quite so joyful. It sways back and forth and all I can think is that I don’t have my phone. Where could it be? What if I’m wrong and there’s a forth possibility and it’s completely lost and I never find it again? I try to reconcile myself to that possibility. I imagine jumping off the train and running back to Los Angeles. It would be possible and I was totally going to do it at the next stop, but the conductor just came by and clipped my ticket. I’m stuck. Phoneless. On a train.
The good news is, I can survive phoneless. I borrowed a friendly fellow passenger’s phone to call my mother (who didn’t answer, big surprise) and ask her to tell my Aunt that I’m coming in and beg Adam to track the phone—at least in two hours I will know exactly where it is. And, if anyone has taken my phone since it has been unattended, I can stalk them via the internet. As soon as I get off this damn train.
I’m currently (well, not currently as when this is posted, but currently as when I am writing this) on the train from LA to San Diego. It has some fancy name like Skyliner or Skynet; I don’t remember. The point is, I am stuck on a train going no more than forty miles an hour, without internet, and WITHOUT MY PHONE.
You’ve seen me post about my phone several times. I’m kind of attached. My phone was stolen last May and it was a very traumatic experience.
I realized I didn’t have my phone 5 minutes before the train left. I reached into my bag and voilà—no phone. Panicked, I emptied the bag, twice. I remember searching through the bag earlier this morning for the little pouch to put the phone in. I remember putting the phone in the pouch. I have no idea if I then put the phone into the bag. If I did not, it’s still at home. If I did, then it’s somewhere in my car, or mysteriously disappeared in the walk from the car to the train station. What could I do? I ran off the train. The conductor stopped me—obviously I was crazy. Who misses a train because they can’t find their phone? The next train was at 8:30, an hour from now. That would put me into San Diego at 10:30, which I had decided yesterday was too late. I stood on the platform, torn. Then I jumped onto the train.
Now I’m pouting on the top row of the train, listening to it hoot joyfully and I’m not quite so joyful. It sways back and forth and all I can think is that I don’t have my phone. Where could it be? What if I’m wrong and there’s a forth possibility and it’s completely lost and I never find it again? I try to reconcile myself to that possibility. I imagine jumping off the train and running back to Los Angeles. It would be possible and I was totally going to do it at the next stop, but the conductor just came by and clipped my ticket. I’m stuck. Phoneless. On a train.
The good news is, I can survive phoneless. I borrowed a friendly fellow passenger’s phone to call my mother (who didn’t answer, big surprise) and ask her to tell my Aunt that I’m coming in and beg Adam to track the phone—at least in two hours I will know exactly where it is. And, if anyone has taken my phone since it has been unattended, I can stalk them via the internet. As soon as I get off this damn train.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Saturday Afternoon
It's 3:02 pm and my neighbor is listening to Beyoncé's "Sweet Dreams" and Taio Cruz's "Dynamite." I think he's the DJ. It's an "electro-pop" party out on the canals today. (Seriously, I know. I Shazammed both songs.)
There's nothing like a beautiful Saturday afternoon at home to put me in a happy place. I don't know how I'm ever going to leave California-- I love the sunshine and the breezes. I love being able to tell myself I'm going to walk to the beach and start seriously writing in 15 minutes, even though I always keep putting it off.
Adam left today. For the first time in a VERY LONG TIME, I am alone on the canals again. It's heavenly.
I feel guilty saying that, because I'm not trying to say that I don't like Adam, or any of the other people who have visited me over the summer. Of course, I love you all. It's just... There's nothing like the freedom of being completely alone. I've heard guys explain it as, "the ability to walk naked around your apartment." I totally get that. I don't do it, because that's weird and I live on the first floor and have windows, but still. Sentiment noted. Solitude = freedom.
So, that's something else to chalk up on the Emily Happiness List: I need alone time. And, I need more than an hour of alone time. When I was at Penn, living with Adam in a house with five other people, I struggled desperately for alone time. It became sort of an issue, leading to lots of fights. Alone time doesn't count as alone time if it's scheduled into someone else's itinerary. And it definitely does not count if the entire time I'm worrying that I'm upsetting someone by being by myself.
So I guess that's another thing. Emily isn't happy when other people are unhappy. Within reason, of course. I'm not saying that I will be thoroughly miserable so long as there are starving children in India, because unfortunately that will probably continue despite my best efforts, but if someone I know is unhappy and there's something I can do about it, I feel obligated to do something, even if it's at the expense of my own happiness.
What alone time really is, to me, is an expanse of time that stretches as far as I want-- for example, an afternoon into an evening, which will end whenever I decide to go to bed. It's exhilarating because time becomes so flexible when I get to choose what to do without any regard to anyone else's feelings. Of course, I can choose to do something for someone else. But even then, I'm choosing for me, not for them. alone time is the ultimate selfishness. I cling to it now because I'm positive that once I actually have to grow up, it won't exist anymore.
The neighbor isn't playing "electro-pop" anymore. Now, I can only hear the faint drone of an airplane and the occasional windchimes. Oh wait-- there he goes again. I'm going to Starbucks.
There's nothing like a beautiful Saturday afternoon at home to put me in a happy place. I don't know how I'm ever going to leave California-- I love the sunshine and the breezes. I love being able to tell myself I'm going to walk to the beach and start seriously writing in 15 minutes, even though I always keep putting it off.
Adam left today. For the first time in a VERY LONG TIME, I am alone on the canals again. It's heavenly.
I feel guilty saying that, because I'm not trying to say that I don't like Adam, or any of the other people who have visited me over the summer. Of course, I love you all. It's just... There's nothing like the freedom of being completely alone. I've heard guys explain it as, "the ability to walk naked around your apartment." I totally get that. I don't do it, because that's weird and I live on the first floor and have windows, but still. Sentiment noted. Solitude = freedom.
So, that's something else to chalk up on the Emily Happiness List: I need alone time. And, I need more than an hour of alone time. When I was at Penn, living with Adam in a house with five other people, I struggled desperately for alone time. It became sort of an issue, leading to lots of fights. Alone time doesn't count as alone time if it's scheduled into someone else's itinerary. And it definitely does not count if the entire time I'm worrying that I'm upsetting someone by being by myself.
So I guess that's another thing. Emily isn't happy when other people are unhappy. Within reason, of course. I'm not saying that I will be thoroughly miserable so long as there are starving children in India, because unfortunately that will probably continue despite my best efforts, but if someone I know is unhappy and there's something I can do about it, I feel obligated to do something, even if it's at the expense of my own happiness.
What alone time really is, to me, is an expanse of time that stretches as far as I want-- for example, an afternoon into an evening, which will end whenever I decide to go to bed. It's exhilarating because time becomes so flexible when I get to choose what to do without any regard to anyone else's feelings. Of course, I can choose to do something for someone else. But even then, I'm choosing for me, not for them. alone time is the ultimate selfishness. I cling to it now because I'm positive that once I actually have to grow up, it won't exist anymore.
The neighbor isn't playing "electro-pop" anymore. Now, I can only hear the faint drone of an airplane and the occasional windchimes. Oh wait-- there he goes again. I'm going to Starbucks.
Personally...
Work peoples have requested I write more personal blogs. So, here it goes...
I was driving to work today, and actually thinking about writing this particular blog post (before it was specifically requested). I was insanely happy as I was driving--and I had no idea why. Nothing particularly interesting had happened. Nothing exciting was going to happen. I've already gotten sick of making my happy lists every morning, so it wasn't anything on that... I tried to retrace my steps. What happened this morning that made me happy?
I woke up (exhausted) at 9:30, and promptly snoozed until 9:39, when I HAD to stumble out of bed to clean my apartment. The apartment inspector was coming today. Everything had to be perfect, and let's face it, I had my work cut out for me. Between the massive influx of guests I've had (it's always good to have guests, but it feels like I haven't had a spare moment to myself in the past two months) and my own laziness, my apartment has become a clutter-fest of random stuff and lots and lots of dust. By 10:30, my apartment was spick-and-span, and I was acting the happy host. Perhaps there's something to be said for acting the way you want to feel, and for having a nice, clean place to live. No matter how much I drag my feet, I think I like being organized and giving myself imaginary gold stars. Well, I know I like imaginary gold stars, but I hadn't realized just how much I appreciate cleanliness. It's ironic, really, given how messy I am.
By 11:00, Adam (my boyfriend who's visiting) and I went to Lemonade for lunch-- it's a little restaurant down the street where you combine different types of cold salads in a smorgasbord of yummy-ness. Adam and I shared mushroom couscous with truffle oil, sweet potatoes and pistachios, and macaroni and cheese (the best macaroni and cheese I've ever had, I swear) and then I had a chicken, sweet potatoes and grape salad. My next conclusion-- there's something to be said for really good food in the middle of the day.
As I drove, I was singing at the top of my lungs to Snow Patrol's "Set the Fire to the Third Bar." Normally I'm just a so-so Snow Patrol fan, but I'm kind of obsessed with that one song. Singing totally cheers me up, but I think that's because I have a tendency to belt it when I'm in a good mood.
It only helps that today was a warm, beautiful day. But, that's kind of an afterthought. Once I think to myself "I'm happy," I think, "It's warm and beautiful; I'm happy." It's like the icing on the cake. Of course, if it's nasty outside (as it often is in Philly, that's enough to swing my mood in the opposite direction and make me really work to think positive).
And then, once I'm happy, I'm more generous instead of hating the other drivers on the road. I'm excited to go to work and I appreciate the little things, especially about the people I'm with. Once I have a small foundation of happiness, it's easier to build on it-- to remember the other pieces that lead to happiness, like being thankful for the people around me, and remembering to slow down and appreciate things. If I don't have that foundation, it's almost impossible to move forward from there.
But what builds the foundation? The cleaning? The music? The food? All of it? Or none? Is the foundation of happiness simply a chemical balance in my brain that I can't control-- the scientific equivalent to waking up on the right side of the bed in the morning? In other words, is my day-to-day happiness sheer luck?
I shall have to do more reconnaissance.
I was driving to work today, and actually thinking about writing this particular blog post (before it was specifically requested). I was insanely happy as I was driving--and I had no idea why. Nothing particularly interesting had happened. Nothing exciting was going to happen. I've already gotten sick of making my happy lists every morning, so it wasn't anything on that... I tried to retrace my steps. What happened this morning that made me happy?
I woke up (exhausted) at 9:30, and promptly snoozed until 9:39, when I HAD to stumble out of bed to clean my apartment. The apartment inspector was coming today. Everything had to be perfect, and let's face it, I had my work cut out for me. Between the massive influx of guests I've had (it's always good to have guests, but it feels like I haven't had a spare moment to myself in the past two months) and my own laziness, my apartment has become a clutter-fest of random stuff and lots and lots of dust. By 10:30, my apartment was spick-and-span, and I was acting the happy host. Perhaps there's something to be said for acting the way you want to feel, and for having a nice, clean place to live. No matter how much I drag my feet, I think I like being organized and giving myself imaginary gold stars. Well, I know I like imaginary gold stars, but I hadn't realized just how much I appreciate cleanliness. It's ironic, really, given how messy I am.
By 11:00, Adam (my boyfriend who's visiting) and I went to Lemonade for lunch-- it's a little restaurant down the street where you combine different types of cold salads in a smorgasbord of yummy-ness. Adam and I shared mushroom couscous with truffle oil, sweet potatoes and pistachios, and macaroni and cheese (the best macaroni and cheese I've ever had, I swear) and then I had a chicken, sweet potatoes and grape salad. My next conclusion-- there's something to be said for really good food in the middle of the day.
As I drove, I was singing at the top of my lungs to Snow Patrol's "Set the Fire to the Third Bar." Normally I'm just a so-so Snow Patrol fan, but I'm kind of obsessed with that one song. Singing totally cheers me up, but I think that's because I have a tendency to belt it when I'm in a good mood.
It only helps that today was a warm, beautiful day. But, that's kind of an afterthought. Once I think to myself "I'm happy," I think, "It's warm and beautiful; I'm happy." It's like the icing on the cake. Of course, if it's nasty outside (as it often is in Philly, that's enough to swing my mood in the opposite direction and make me really work to think positive).
And then, once I'm happy, I'm more generous instead of hating the other drivers on the road. I'm excited to go to work and I appreciate the little things, especially about the people I'm with. Once I have a small foundation of happiness, it's easier to build on it-- to remember the other pieces that lead to happiness, like being thankful for the people around me, and remembering to slow down and appreciate things. If I don't have that foundation, it's almost impossible to move forward from there.
But what builds the foundation? The cleaning? The music? The food? All of it? Or none? Is the foundation of happiness simply a chemical balance in my brain that I can't control-- the scientific equivalent to waking up on the right side of the bed in the morning? In other words, is my day-to-day happiness sheer luck?
I shall have to do more reconnaissance.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Let's be Practical
I keep on going back to the premise that made me start this project.
How is a normal person-- with a job, responsibilities, and no desire to become all weird and preachy-- supposed to change her life without changing who she is, in order to become happier?
The more I get involved in happiness, the more it feels like I have to be all weird and guru-ish in order to find happiness. I keep stumbling upon mantras about happiness; I listen to my meditation tapes and absorb happiness lessons... But no matter what, I feel the most myself when I'm staying up late a night reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
or Twenties Girl (both fantastic books, though very different; both read this week. If you're interested-- buying them from these links will get me a commission!) Very un-guruish.
While I love going to my yoga classes for my weekly dose of mysticism, I really don't want to be all gooey and spiritual.
I wish happiness were a matter of being practical.
It just occurred to me that I am returning, once again, to the realm of
The Happiness Project
. Practical happiness.
Perhaps happiness is no more than simply being the person you have always wanted to be.
How is a normal person-- with a job, responsibilities, and no desire to become all weird and preachy-- supposed to change her life without changing who she is, in order to become happier?
The more I get involved in happiness, the more it feels like I have to be all weird and guru-ish in order to find happiness. I keep stumbling upon mantras about happiness; I listen to my meditation tapes and absorb happiness lessons... But no matter what, I feel the most myself when I'm staying up late a night reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
or Twenties Girl (both fantastic books, though very different; both read this week. If you're interested-- buying them from these links will get me a commission!) Very un-guruish. While I love going to my yoga classes for my weekly dose of mysticism, I really don't want to be all gooey and spiritual.
I wish happiness were a matter of being practical.
It just occurred to me that I am returning, once again, to the realm of
The Happiness Project
. Practical happiness.Perhaps happiness is no more than simply being the person you have always wanted to be.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
The Future is Now (sadly)
How many times have I made a resolution for the future? I will start the diet tomorrow. I will exercise tomorrow. I will concentrate on writing once the semester starts.
I have finally come to admit that that is all COMPLETE BULL.
Here's the problem: there is no future. That sounds scary-- but it's actually not. Tomorrow becomes today as soon as the clock strikes midnight. My resolution easily applies to this new "today"-- suddenly "I will start the diet" is easily bumped over to the next day and the next day... I never actually reach the promised "tomorrow."
Unfortunately, the future is now. Today, is yesterday's tomorrow (that sounds like a t-shirt slogan). I'm definitely not the first person to come up with this-- and I know I've heard people tell me that I have to take charge of my life now, not later. But I always kind of blew it off. I mean, it's so much easier to wait until tomorrow. Especially if tomorrow never comes.
So what changed my mind?
One of my friends out here (the one we've decided is destined to be the most successful) Writes regularly in his blog, Greener Grass. He has also (and this is the icing on the cake) just written a book. It's his second book, but it's the one that might get published. He already has an agent. And, he's like the nicest person I know (so out goes the, "well, his life is totally perfect but he's a total dick" excuse).
I have no more excuses. Zach works at this internship. He does research for LMU. He was a Penn student just like me (he just graduated). There is no reason why I can't finish my book. I just need to stop making these resolutions telling myself I'll start working harder tomorrow.
My screenwriting professor, when she wrote her book, woke up at 4 am every morning to be able to write before her kids woke up. Then, she went to work. I can barely haul myself out of bed at 8 to go to work. And if I don't have to... I skipped yoga this morning to sleep in until 11.
I have to remember: there is no tomorrow. There is only today, and what I decide to do with it.
For starters, I can stop watching five hours of 30 Rock every night.
I have finally come to admit that that is all COMPLETE BULL.
Here's the problem: there is no future. That sounds scary-- but it's actually not. Tomorrow becomes today as soon as the clock strikes midnight. My resolution easily applies to this new "today"-- suddenly "I will start the diet" is easily bumped over to the next day and the next day... I never actually reach the promised "tomorrow."
Unfortunately, the future is now. Today, is yesterday's tomorrow (that sounds like a t-shirt slogan). I'm definitely not the first person to come up with this-- and I know I've heard people tell me that I have to take charge of my life now, not later. But I always kind of blew it off. I mean, it's so much easier to wait until tomorrow. Especially if tomorrow never comes.
So what changed my mind?
One of my friends out here (the one we've decided is destined to be the most successful) Writes regularly in his blog, Greener Grass. He has also (and this is the icing on the cake) just written a book. It's his second book, but it's the one that might get published. He already has an agent. And, he's like the nicest person I know (so out goes the, "well, his life is totally perfect but he's a total dick" excuse).
I have no more excuses. Zach works at this internship. He does research for LMU. He was a Penn student just like me (he just graduated). There is no reason why I can't finish my book. I just need to stop making these resolutions telling myself I'll start working harder tomorrow.
My screenwriting professor, when she wrote her book, woke up at 4 am every morning to be able to write before her kids woke up. Then, she went to work. I can barely haul myself out of bed at 8 to go to work. And if I don't have to... I skipped yoga this morning to sleep in until 11.
I have to remember: there is no tomorrow. There is only today, and what I decide to do with it.
For starters, I can stop watching five hours of 30 Rock every night.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
A Year of Complete Happiness?
He's testing his theory in a different sort of happiness project, called a year of complete happiness. His goal is to find the happiness that exists in every single moment, rather than continually seek happiness elsewhere. In a way, his project is very similar to Gretchen Rubin's, except his is a little more philosophical.
I can't help but wonder if Cathal is right. Is happiness a permanent state?
I've always believed that our permanent state is neutral, and it's up to our actions to boost ourselves up or down. But if Cathal is right, we ought to appreciate our "default settings" more.
Just for kicks, I'm posting a picture of the newest additions to my "cute" collection. My owl mug, and two kokeshi dolls. :)
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Reconciliation
Happiness is the art of reconciling who you are, with who you wish you were.
Or, we can think of it as the art of balancing dream with reality. Sometimes in order to be happy it is necessary to pretend our dreams are real.
I keep reading that happiness requires being "present in the moment," that it is impossible for people to imagine a future in which they actually would be happy--because future imaginings exclude rationalization, that often the anticipation of the future is better than the future itself. (This is coming, not only from Gretchen, but also from Stumbling on Happiness
by Dr. Gilbert)
I've been told so many times lately, "That's not reality. You have to get back to reality." People say it sympathetically, or pityingly, or even condescendingly. I haven't written much because it made me so sad to think about being stuck in reality. Really, I'm not ready to grow up.
I keep thinking of myself as a little girl. Imagination was my life then. And though a nagging voice tells me that's because I had no life, I know that it's not really true. I think about all the books we read as children, the classics, and how every single child there had a rich dream world they escaped to. Why-- when we start to grow up-- why do we lose that? What if we kept our dream worlds and we, too, could escape to them when we needed to, just like when we were kids?
Then, if we held onto our dreams, we could pick and choose our lives. In our dreams, we know exactly who we want to be, and nothing is impossible. Personally, when I close my eyes and imagine a future unbounded by any rules or regulations, I'm a writer, with long brown hair that isn't poofy. I live in a quaint little house with floor to ceiling bookcases and wide windows. When I open my eyes, it's not too hard to think-- okay. So who knows if the house is going to work, and goodness knows the hair is impossible, but the writer thing? All I would have to do is actually write something. And, I have things to write, I just haven't written them yet. If I were to realize even a tiny part of my dream world, it feels like everything in my life would be so much happier.
And that is why I have concluded-- the art of happiness is the art of reconciling who you are with who you wish you were.
Or, we can think of it as the art of balancing dream with reality. Sometimes in order to be happy it is necessary to pretend our dreams are real.
I keep reading that happiness requires being "present in the moment," that it is impossible for people to imagine a future in which they actually would be happy--because future imaginings exclude rationalization, that often the anticipation of the future is better than the future itself. (This is coming, not only from Gretchen, but also from Stumbling on Happiness
by Dr. Gilbert)I've been told so many times lately, "That's not reality. You have to get back to reality." People say it sympathetically, or pityingly, or even condescendingly. I haven't written much because it made me so sad to think about being stuck in reality. Really, I'm not ready to grow up.
I keep thinking of myself as a little girl. Imagination was my life then. And though a nagging voice tells me that's because I had no life, I know that it's not really true. I think about all the books we read as children, the classics, and how every single child there had a rich dream world they escaped to. Why-- when we start to grow up-- why do we lose that? What if we kept our dream worlds and we, too, could escape to them when we needed to, just like when we were kids?
Then, if we held onto our dreams, we could pick and choose our lives. In our dreams, we know exactly who we want to be, and nothing is impossible. Personally, when I close my eyes and imagine a future unbounded by any rules or regulations, I'm a writer, with long brown hair that isn't poofy. I live in a quaint little house with floor to ceiling bookcases and wide windows. When I open my eyes, it's not too hard to think-- okay. So who knows if the house is going to work, and goodness knows the hair is impossible, but the writer thing? All I would have to do is actually write something. And, I have things to write, I just haven't written them yet. If I were to realize even a tiny part of my dream world, it feels like everything in my life would be so much happier.
And that is why I have concluded-- the art of happiness is the art of reconciling who you are with who you wish you were.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Intentions: Part 2
I'm just starting to realize how much more goes into happiness than we are aware of. How do we choose our intentions? What intentions will make us happy? What if an intention isn't enough?
I think that Gretchen must have been on a track with her list of resolutions, but perhaps only because she had so much more of her life figured out than I do. She knew her intentions when she started. She knew what her resolutions would be because she knew when her intentions wouldn't be enough.
I can set the best intentions in the world, and neglect to honor them. I can set the best intentions in the world, and realize that I don't care if I honor them or not.
I think that Gretchen must have been on a track with her list of resolutions, but perhaps only because she had so much more of her life figured out than I do. She knew her intentions when she started. She knew what her resolutions would be because she knew when her intentions wouldn't be enough.
I can set the best intentions in the world, and neglect to honor them. I can set the best intentions in the world, and realize that I don't care if I honor them or not.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Happiness Now
Sigh. Back to reality. I've been off the face of the earth for several days now. Not just away from here, but... away from, well, everything. My head's just been somewhere else. I've been happy.
Part of me, a very large part, was rebelling against returning to the reality of cleaning, cooking properly (instead of just microwaving gyoza), getting a normal amount of sleep, doing the work I'm supposed to be doing. I'd rather sit in my little dream bubble, check out of this world and head off to another at the first chance I get. I don't know how many of you can understand this. Maybe I seem crazy. The past week has been like an extended daydream.
Really, I was rebelling against the word should. A little voice in my head, a small voice which was easy to ignore, was telling me that I was destroying everything I've worked for in the past month. But I didn't care. I was tired of doing what I should be doing. If the happiness project is about happiness, and if I'm infinitely happier sitting at home, alone, reading all day, then shouldn't I be doing that instead of forcing myself to go out, forcing myself to work, to clean, to interact? How much of this happiness project is about actual happiness, and how much of it is forcing myself to be the person the world expects me to be?
I was angry.
But, I woke up this morning and I knew the dream bubble was popped. No matter how much I wanted to stay safely inside it, I had to get out. The longer I stayed, the closer I would come to destroying everything in my life. A dream bubble isn't self-sustaining. Eventually, I would have to go out, even if it were just for a breather. But once I did, I would be crushed by the enormity of how everything's changed. It's the difference between happiness now and happiness down the road. Happiness now is the bubble. Happiness later is a career, friends, a clean home, being well-nourished... If I didn't know that I had all those things now, even if I didn't want to deal with them, I wouldn't survive in my bubble. If I stay in my bubble too long, they will disappear, and I won't be happy anymore.
True Happiness, I realized, is about finding the balance between present happiness and future happiness. Without a balance, we're always going to be unhappy--if we're only thinking about the present, we're going to find our options getting smaller and smaller as we cut off future paths for ourselves. But, if we only think about the future, we will constantly be putting off our needs for something intangible. After all, we never actually reach the future-- we always stay in the present.
Part of me, a very large part, was rebelling against returning to the reality of cleaning, cooking properly (instead of just microwaving gyoza), getting a normal amount of sleep, doing the work I'm supposed to be doing. I'd rather sit in my little dream bubble, check out of this world and head off to another at the first chance I get. I don't know how many of you can understand this. Maybe I seem crazy. The past week has been like an extended daydream.
Really, I was rebelling against the word should. A little voice in my head, a small voice which was easy to ignore, was telling me that I was destroying everything I've worked for in the past month. But I didn't care. I was tired of doing what I should be doing. If the happiness project is about happiness, and if I'm infinitely happier sitting at home, alone, reading all day, then shouldn't I be doing that instead of forcing myself to go out, forcing myself to work, to clean, to interact? How much of this happiness project is about actual happiness, and how much of it is forcing myself to be the person the world expects me to be?
I was angry.
But, I woke up this morning and I knew the dream bubble was popped. No matter how much I wanted to stay safely inside it, I had to get out. The longer I stayed, the closer I would come to destroying everything in my life. A dream bubble isn't self-sustaining. Eventually, I would have to go out, even if it were just for a breather. But once I did, I would be crushed by the enormity of how everything's changed. It's the difference between happiness now and happiness down the road. Happiness now is the bubble. Happiness later is a career, friends, a clean home, being well-nourished... If I didn't know that I had all those things now, even if I didn't want to deal with them, I wouldn't survive in my bubble. If I stay in my bubble too long, they will disappear, and I won't be happy anymore.
True Happiness, I realized, is about finding the balance between present happiness and future happiness. Without a balance, we're always going to be unhappy--if we're only thinking about the present, we're going to find our options getting smaller and smaller as we cut off future paths for ourselves. But, if we only think about the future, we will constantly be putting off our needs for something intangible. After all, we never actually reach the future-- we always stay in the present.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Team Edward
I can't write for long. I have a date.
With Edward.
I learned something very important this week: Humor yourself. But, I think it's more than that-- you have to be able to laugh at yourself, love yourself, and then humor yourself and support yourself in all your stupid, quirky, little passions that keep life interesting. In my case, I'm trying very hard not to judge myself, because I just started reading Twilight.
Actually, I started reading Twilight yesterday. Today I'm reading New Moon. That's how bad it's gotten. :) Don't worry, I'm not going to start wearing Team Edward or Team Jacob t-shirts (Team Edward), or waiting outside movie theatres for days. But, forgive me if I make a detour on my trip home to stop at Borders and pick up the next installment.
I think we all have things that we love that aren't particularly flattering. Maybe you're a football player who actually likes the ballet classes you're forced to take. Maybe you're a physicist who doesn't actually like science fiction. I happen to be an English Major at an Ivy League university who's in love with so-called trashy plebeian literature (don't get me started. I took all the courses, I will tell you why they're not trashy or plebeian). If I have to tell the truth, my two favorite authors are Sophie Kinsella and J.K. Rowling. Try telling that to your Poetry and Poetics class.
And so I advocate-- let's humor ourselves. We don't have to jump out of the closet just yet, (although I seem to be outing myself online) but the very least we can do is stop feeling guilty about what we truly love. If we're worried about what everyone else will think, at least we can not think bad things ourselves. Go take that ballet class. I bet they have a night courses after football practice.
With Edward.
I learned something very important this week: Humor yourself. But, I think it's more than that-- you have to be able to laugh at yourself, love yourself, and then humor yourself and support yourself in all your stupid, quirky, little passions that keep life interesting. In my case, I'm trying very hard not to judge myself, because I just started reading Twilight.
Actually, I started reading Twilight yesterday. Today I'm reading New Moon. That's how bad it's gotten. :) Don't worry, I'm not going to start wearing Team Edward or Team Jacob t-shirts (Team Edward), or waiting outside movie theatres for days. But, forgive me if I make a detour on my trip home to stop at Borders and pick up the next installment.
I think we all have things that we love that aren't particularly flattering. Maybe you're a football player who actually likes the ballet classes you're forced to take. Maybe you're a physicist who doesn't actually like science fiction. I happen to be an English Major at an Ivy League university who's in love with so-called trashy plebeian literature (don't get me started. I took all the courses, I will tell you why they're not trashy or plebeian). If I have to tell the truth, my two favorite authors are Sophie Kinsella and J.K. Rowling. Try telling that to your Poetry and Poetics class.
And so I advocate-- let's humor ourselves. We don't have to jump out of the closet just yet, (although I seem to be outing myself online) but the very least we can do is stop feeling guilty about what we truly love. If we're worried about what everyone else will think, at least we can not think bad things ourselves. Go take that ballet class. I bet they have a night courses after football practice.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Mini-Pigs
Sometimes it's important to think about the things that really make you happy in life:
Just a little something to brighten your day. :)
Just a little something to brighten your day. :)
Monday, July 5, 2010
Set Your Intentions
What's the difference between an Intention and a Resolution?
I've spent the past month struggling to keep a series of resolutions, per the advice of Gretchen Rubin, but every time I go to yoga, we close our eyes and "set our intentions" for the class, and for our lives. It's so calming, and it feels so centered that I couldn't help but wonder if this was a different path that I should explore. So I've been wondering lately, what's an intention, really? And how does it differ from a resolution?
I felt like I knew the answer intuitively, but when I tried to verbalize it, it didn't make any sense. So I looked it up. My dictionary of choice is always the Oxford English Dictionary, online.
Resolution: 1. Physical conversion, dissolution, separation. Conversion to pus (rare). Death. 2. Breaking up or conversion of a non-material thing. Problem solving, logic, musical dissonance, and math problems. 3. The action or an act of resolving; determination, resolute temper. A fixed or positive intention. Determination, firmness, steadfastness of purpose; possession or resolute and unyielding mind. The elimination or easing of doubt.
Intention: 1. General Senses. The action of directing the mind or attention to something; mental application or effort; attention, intent observation, regard; endeavor. Ultimate purpose; the aim of an action. The way in which anything is to be understood; meaning significance, import.
The definition of "resolution" really hit home. It's a "physical conversion" of the self, a separation of the desirable and undesirable attributes. "Determination." "Firmness." A "resolute and unyielding mind." A resolution is a course of action that rewards the good and weeds out the bad. It's tough and it takes a lot of will power. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but I couldn't help wondering, will resolutions really make me happier?
An intention is softer. It's a mindset, as opposed to a concrete action. It focuses on aspirations, the meanings behind why we do what we do. Technically, intentions (unintentionally) come before resolutions-- they're what drive us to make resolutions in the first place-- but we're often not conscious of what our specific intentions are.
For a happiness project meant to fit into the crazy-busy life of a working student who already has stress problems, perhaps intentions will be better than resolutions. Resolutions, as great as they are in certain circumstances, are not always necessary. Perhaps all it takes is a simple mantra: "This is how I want to live my life. This is who I am going to be and how I'm going to act." Whether you set your intention to be more loving; to be more responsible; to be a better friend, sometimes just by telling yourself you're going to be that person, you will be. You don't need a laundry list of actions to check off every day.
I've spent the past month struggling to keep a series of resolutions, per the advice of Gretchen Rubin, but every time I go to yoga, we close our eyes and "set our intentions" for the class, and for our lives. It's so calming, and it feels so centered that I couldn't help but wonder if this was a different path that I should explore. So I've been wondering lately, what's an intention, really? And how does it differ from a resolution?
I felt like I knew the answer intuitively, but when I tried to verbalize it, it didn't make any sense. So I looked it up. My dictionary of choice is always the Oxford English Dictionary, online.
Resolution: 1. Physical conversion, dissolution, separation. Conversion to pus (rare). Death. 2. Breaking up or conversion of a non-material thing. Problem solving, logic, musical dissonance, and math problems. 3. The action or an act of resolving; determination, resolute temper. A fixed or positive intention. Determination, firmness, steadfastness of purpose; possession or resolute and unyielding mind. The elimination or easing of doubt.
Intention: 1. General Senses. The action of directing the mind or attention to something; mental application or effort; attention, intent observation, regard; endeavor. Ultimate purpose; the aim of an action. The way in which anything is to be understood; meaning significance, import.
The definition of "resolution" really hit home. It's a "physical conversion" of the self, a separation of the desirable and undesirable attributes. "Determination." "Firmness." A "resolute and unyielding mind." A resolution is a course of action that rewards the good and weeds out the bad. It's tough and it takes a lot of will power. That's not necessarily a bad thing, but I couldn't help wondering, will resolutions really make me happier?
An intention is softer. It's a mindset, as opposed to a concrete action. It focuses on aspirations, the meanings behind why we do what we do. Technically, intentions (unintentionally) come before resolutions-- they're what drive us to make resolutions in the first place-- but we're often not conscious of what our specific intentions are.
For a happiness project meant to fit into the crazy-busy life of a working student who already has stress problems, perhaps intentions will be better than resolutions. Resolutions, as great as they are in certain circumstances, are not always necessary. Perhaps all it takes is a simple mantra: "This is how I want to live my life. This is who I am going to be and how I'm going to act." Whether you set your intention to be more loving; to be more responsible; to be a better friend, sometimes just by telling yourself you're going to be that person, you will be. You don't need a laundry list of actions to check off every day.
Friday, July 2, 2010
Think Positive Thoughts
I've been a little down lately, so I'm going to list 10 positive things that are going on in my life:
1) I will be spending the 4th of July with friends, not alone, like I thought I was going to be. AND, we are going to BIKE to the fireworks! :)
2) Creativity calls for cutting yourself slack. That means I need to stop beating myself up for not writing a ton every day. I am making progress on my project, and I think it's actually good.
3) I love my job.
4) I live in California. And the past two days have been sunny.
5) Today, I invented a new type of yoga. And tomorrow I am going to write it down, and then make a book deal, and then I will be RICH.
6) I've found it in myself to start doing yoga again.
7) I have solved the problem of the water heater. (The neighbor's water heater is RIGHT NEXT to my bedroom wall, meaning that when they wake up at 6 am every morning, I do too. Now, I wake up at 5 am and move to the couch. It's working very well for me, seriously.)
8) I learn something new every day.
9) Tomorrow, I'm going to go see Toy Story 3, with my grandparents. And, they decided to drive up to see me, instead of me driving far away.
10) Tonight, I made a mini-molten-chocolate cake in the microwave. Yay for Trader Joe's!
It's not much, but it's something. If you can come up with 10 good things in your life, things can't be that bad. :)
1) I will be spending the 4th of July with friends, not alone, like I thought I was going to be. AND, we are going to BIKE to the fireworks! :)
2) Creativity calls for cutting yourself slack. That means I need to stop beating myself up for not writing a ton every day. I am making progress on my project, and I think it's actually good.
3) I love my job.
4) I live in California. And the past two days have been sunny.
5) Today, I invented a new type of yoga. And tomorrow I am going to write it down, and then make a book deal, and then I will be RICH.
6) I've found it in myself to start doing yoga again.
7) I have solved the problem of the water heater. (The neighbor's water heater is RIGHT NEXT to my bedroom wall, meaning that when they wake up at 6 am every morning, I do too. Now, I wake up at 5 am and move to the couch. It's working very well for me, seriously.)
8) I learn something new every day.
9) Tomorrow, I'm going to go see Toy Story 3, with my grandparents. And, they decided to drive up to see me, instead of me driving far away.
10) Tonight, I made a mini-molten-chocolate cake in the microwave. Yay for Trader Joe's!
It's not much, but it's something. If you can come up with 10 good things in your life, things can't be that bad. :)
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Big Decisions: Part 2
A week ago I frantically debated whether or not to lose sleep and money in order to buy the much-anticipated iPhone 4. It was a lengthy debate, and many of you weighed in. In the end, I did not buy the phone. I wanted to spend my money when my boyfriend comes to visit in August. It was probably for the best because the next day, the LA Times wrote that people started lining up at the stores before they even closed Wednesday night... So really, by the time I was even writing about it here, I was too late.
However, there would not be a part 2 to this story if there were not further developments... Developments that have since strengthened my belief in God. I can't decide if that's blasphemous or not.
I mentioned in my previous post that my entire family back in Minnesota ordered iPhones because they (unlike me) were eligible for the early upgrade. It turns out that AT&T, overloaded with the iPhone demand, made one tiny error. They duplicated my mother's order and sent our family ONE EXTRA iPHONE. It arrived on Monday. For those with ethical dilemmas out there, they charged us for the order (so I am not stealing the phone), but they did not charge us the extra $200 it would have cost me to upgrade. So, my parents Fed-Ex-ed it out to California, I plugged it into my computer, then called AT&T to activate it. Now, I have a BRAND NEW iPHONE 4!
Was it a complete waste of money? I. Don't. Think. So. Every time I look at it I think, she's so pretty! (Yes, it's a she). I've downloaded new "Happy" apps on there-- an app to track my sleep patterns (it's incredible), a new Yoga app, a new relaxation meditation app... I'm determined to use this phone to make my life better. I see it as a fantastic opportunity.
The takeaway lesson I've gotten from all of this (whether or not it's a good thing) is that I made the right decision, not buying the phone, saving my sleep, and deciding to do exciting things. But, it all worked out for the best in the end--even better than if I had bought the phone because I saved my money and my sleep. In other words, if you do good, then good things come to you (sometimes in the form of a mysterious clerical error). It's all just part of the wonderful happiness circle of life.
However, there would not be a part 2 to this story if there were not further developments... Developments that have since strengthened my belief in God. I can't decide if that's blasphemous or not.
I mentioned in my previous post that my entire family back in Minnesota ordered iPhones because they (unlike me) were eligible for the early upgrade. It turns out that AT&T, overloaded with the iPhone demand, made one tiny error. They duplicated my mother's order and sent our family ONE EXTRA iPHONE. It arrived on Monday. For those with ethical dilemmas out there, they charged us for the order (so I am not stealing the phone), but they did not charge us the extra $200 it would have cost me to upgrade. So, my parents Fed-Ex-ed it out to California, I plugged it into my computer, then called AT&T to activate it. Now, I have a BRAND NEW iPHONE 4!
Was it a complete waste of money? I. Don't. Think. So. Every time I look at it I think, she's so pretty! (Yes, it's a she). I've downloaded new "Happy" apps on there-- an app to track my sleep patterns (it's incredible), a new Yoga app, a new relaxation meditation app... I'm determined to use this phone to make my life better. I see it as a fantastic opportunity.
The takeaway lesson I've gotten from all of this (whether or not it's a good thing) is that I made the right decision, not buying the phone, saving my sleep, and deciding to do exciting things. But, it all worked out for the best in the end--even better than if I had bought the phone because I saved my money and my sleep. In other words, if you do good, then good things come to you (sometimes in the form of a mysterious clerical error). It's all just part of the wonderful happiness circle of life.
Monday, June 28, 2010
The Great Failure Questions
I'm having dinner with one of my friends this weekend and we strike up a conversation about the happiness project. "So, what is it?" she asks me, "I haven't had time to read your blog." I start explaining the Happiness Project
book, how it's one woman's personal project to make herself happier and find fulfillment through resolutions and months dedicated to themes like "work" and "relationships." But then I start to explain that while Gretchen Rubin's ideas are amazing, I'm not exactly doing the same thing. My friend wanted to know why. I didn't have the heart to tell her.See, Gretchen never failed during the project, except when the project was to "embrace failure." She started her project knowing exactly what she needed to do in order to be happy, and it made her happy.
I, on the other hand, have only a vague sense of what I have to do in order to be happy-- and more often than not, once I try it out, I either a) fail the first time around or b) realize that what I thought would make me happy doesn't after all.
Does that just mean I'm young?
Maybe. But I also think I just plain disagree with the book. It seems like a stretch to me to expect someone to know what will make them happy right off the bat, and then to never fail (or almost never fail) to achieve it. I'm constantly telling myself, okay, this week I will do better. Last week, I was a horrible putzer. BUT, I putzed (i.e. played on my computer, watched movies I didn't need to and generally did unproductive things) less than I did the week before. This week, hopefully, I will hardly putz at all.
I'm not concluding (like Gretchen did) that failure is integral to happiness. She had to embrace failure at work in order to not be afraid to try new things. That's not my problem (well, it sort of is, but that's not what I'm talking about here). Instead, I'm deciding that failure is integral to life and we have to accept it in order to be happy, because let's face it, we're never going to escape it. Once we fail, that's when we get to ask ourselves the GREAT FAILURE QUESTION # 1: Can I change it? If I can, then I will try and try and try until I succeed-- provided the answer to the GREAT FAILURE TO QUESTION #2 is yes. GREAT FAILURE QUESTION #2: Does it matter that I failed?
If the answer to Great Failure Question #1, or #2 is no, then we have to accept failure and find a way to move on with our lives. I suppose in that sense, that is the moment when Gretchen would say we need to embrace failure. But, I argue that until we reach that moment, continuing to ask ourselves these two questions will lead to great happiness--the euphoria in the moment that we finally succeed at something we never have before... well, I can't wait to know what that feels like.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
StickK It
Today, I went to my first yoga class in months. I splurged on a "new member" special for two weeks unlimited classes-- it's a deal as long as I go more than three times. I spent a hour and a half practicing deep breathing, stretching, and lifting my own body weight. I spent the rest of the day being proud of myself.
Finally, no more being down for not sticking to my resolutions!
And the great thing is, I know that I'm going to follow through on this. At least for the next six weeks. I made a contract.
That's where www.stickk.com comes in. I think of it like the stick behind the donkey, when the carrot isn't working. I make a resolution, set the rules, and plug in my credit card. I asked my boyfriend to be my referee, and every Saturday he and I report back to the website. If I don't report back, or I admit that I haven't exercised enough, or he reports that I haven't exercised enough, I lose my $10 dollars (it goes to charity). If I was really smart, I would have made it something like $100 a week, because let's face it, with the amount I'm paying to go to yoga, I can afford to lose $100. You can also choose who to donate to, an "anti-charity," that is something you really, really don't believe in (something you will work hard to avoid giving money to) or a person you really hate (someone you will avoid giving money to). Does it work? The website says it does. Here's their take:
Let's imagine you can't stop eating candy bars. Try committing to eat 3 or less candy bars a week, and penalize yourself $100 every time you go over. Essentially, that fourth candy bar will now cost you $100! Would you eat a $100 candy bar?
We offer financial contracts to let you choose the cost at which failure is simply not an option. Bottom line, everyone has a price. What's yours?
Here's the thing: that candy bar, if you eat it every day, will cost you $100, in the long run. Just like not exercising will cost me, and not quitting smoking will cost Joe Schmo. What's cool about this website is, it's translating the costs of the future, both financial and personal, into the present. In other words, I am willing to put $60 dollars on the line now (which in college terms might as well be equivalent to $100) so that in ten years I don't have to spend that money on health issues and unhappiness.
Plus, this gives me the ability to quantify peace of mind. Like the website says, everyone has a price. I know now that it takes $60 to goad me into getting off the couch. Well, $60 and knowing that if I lie about it I'm taking money away from charity.
Finally, no more being down for not sticking to my resolutions!
And the great thing is, I know that I'm going to follow through on this. At least for the next six weeks. I made a contract.
That's where www.stickk.com comes in. I think of it like the stick behind the donkey, when the carrot isn't working. I make a resolution, set the rules, and plug in my credit card. I asked my boyfriend to be my referee, and every Saturday he and I report back to the website. If I don't report back, or I admit that I haven't exercised enough, or he reports that I haven't exercised enough, I lose my $10 dollars (it goes to charity). If I was really smart, I would have made it something like $100 a week, because let's face it, with the amount I'm paying to go to yoga, I can afford to lose $100. You can also choose who to donate to, an "anti-charity," that is something you really, really don't believe in (something you will work hard to avoid giving money to) or a person you really hate (someone you will avoid giving money to). Does it work? The website says it does. Here's their take:
Let's imagine you can't stop eating candy bars. Try committing to eat 3 or less candy bars a week, and penalize yourself $100 every time you go over. Essentially, that fourth candy bar will now cost you $100! Would you eat a $100 candy bar?
We offer financial contracts to let you choose the cost at which failure is simply not an option. Bottom line, everyone has a price. What's yours?
Here's the thing: that candy bar, if you eat it every day, will cost you $100, in the long run. Just like not exercising will cost me, and not quitting smoking will cost Joe Schmo. What's cool about this website is, it's translating the costs of the future, both financial and personal, into the present. In other words, I am willing to put $60 dollars on the line now (which in college terms might as well be equivalent to $100) so that in ten years I don't have to spend that money on health issues and unhappiness.
Plus, this gives me the ability to quantify peace of mind. Like the website says, everyone has a price. I know now that it takes $60 to goad me into getting off the couch. Well, $60 and knowing that if I lie about it I'm taking money away from charity.
Half-Empty or Half-Full?
The Art of Re-Framing, is really just another way of saying perspective. Half-empty, or half-full. Why is it so much easier to say half-empty? Probably because we're thinking "in about two seconds, I'm going to pick up the glass and the water's going to be gone." It takes a lot more energy to stand up, go to the kitchen, and re-fill the glass, if you catch my drift. It's so much easier to be negative and not even realize it. After all, the glass is half-empty-- we tell ourselves we're just being realistic.
Last night I had an interesting conversation with my boyfriend-- and I realized how hard it can be to see perspective for what it is. After all, to the untrained eye, personal perspective is synonymous with reality. The tragedy is, if one's perspective is skewed towards the dismal, one would always see reality as grim and, well, dismal. But if that's the case, how are we ever supposed to be happy?
That's when I realized what an odd person I am. I don't believe it's ever possible to see "reality." The concept of reality, as we understand it (what's absolutely, unequivocally "true") cannot possibly be perceived by an individual. Everything we look at, everything we think about, remember, and imagine, is tinted by our past (who we are inherently, who we were raised to be, and who we became by chance and circumstance). We don't see anything as it is because we're too busy seeing it the way we think it is, or the way we think it should be. We create our own reality by merely being ourselves. But, unless we take the time to actively pay attention to the way we think, we don't notice it at all. In other words, we're all looking at the world through tinted glasses (rose or otherwise), but we all believe we're seeing 20/20 without a prescription.
The only way we're going to be able to tell what tint we're seeing is by talking to the people around us and trying to see what they see. I came to this conclusion awhile ago when I realized that most of the people I talked to didn't see the problems with everything. It was a bizarre realization. For a long time, I was convinced that everyone else was ignorant and foolish. Then, it occurred to me that if most people didn't see problems with everything that maybe there weren't problems with everything and I didn't need to worry so much (wow, this is making me look stellar). Anyway, the point is, now I'm trying taking time to notice my perspective. I'm working to re-frame my initial reaction to things. And I'm hypothesizing: sooner or later I'll find that how happy I am depends solely on how I perceive myself and the world around me.
Last night I had an interesting conversation with my boyfriend-- and I realized how hard it can be to see perspective for what it is. After all, to the untrained eye, personal perspective is synonymous with reality. The tragedy is, if one's perspective is skewed towards the dismal, one would always see reality as grim and, well, dismal. But if that's the case, how are we ever supposed to be happy?
That's when I realized what an odd person I am. I don't believe it's ever possible to see "reality." The concept of reality, as we understand it (what's absolutely, unequivocally "true") cannot possibly be perceived by an individual. Everything we look at, everything we think about, remember, and imagine, is tinted by our past (who we are inherently, who we were raised to be, and who we became by chance and circumstance). We don't see anything as it is because we're too busy seeing it the way we think it is, or the way we think it should be. We create our own reality by merely being ourselves. But, unless we take the time to actively pay attention to the way we think, we don't notice it at all. In other words, we're all looking at the world through tinted glasses (rose or otherwise), but we all believe we're seeing 20/20 without a prescription.
The only way we're going to be able to tell what tint we're seeing is by talking to the people around us and trying to see what they see. I came to this conclusion awhile ago when I realized that most of the people I talked to didn't see the problems with everything. It was a bizarre realization. For a long time, I was convinced that everyone else was ignorant and foolish. Then, it occurred to me that if most people didn't see problems with everything that maybe there weren't problems with everything and I didn't need to worry so much (wow, this is making me look stellar). Anyway, the point is, now I'm trying taking time to notice my perspective. I'm working to re-frame my initial reaction to things. And I'm hypothesizing: sooner or later I'll find that how happy I am depends solely on how I perceive myself and the world around me.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Big Decisions
Sometimes being happy involves making big decisions. It's a chance to re-evaluate your priorities, step back, take a look at your life. Where should I go to college? Who should I marry? Should I buy the iPhone 4G?
I sat at home all day today in complete disarray. It comes out tomorrow. My entire family is getting one. My boyfriend is getting one. But I-- the sad little girl with the First Generation iPhone-- the girl who is told "get a new phone" every time she walks into an Apple store-- has not pre-ordered her new phone.
Should I? It's $200 more for me than the average person upgrading. I'm splitting the cost with my parents. I frantically went through my budget (luckily, I've been updating it faithfully every Sunday). Yes, I can afford it, barely. I would have to wake up around 3 am to run to the Apple store to wait for it to open at 7. I would have to skimp on food, and summer outings. But... I would have an iPhone 4G. The iPhone to kick all other iPhones in the toosh. The iPhone with the facetime application, two cameras, a retina screen (whatever that means)...
And then I started thinking. Would that really make me happy?
Absolutely. But you know what would make me even happier? Sleeping past 3 am.
Is that completely crazy of me? I can't decide. Part of me is still tempted to set my alarm and decide when it goes off (almost 3 hours from now). Part of me is telling myself I can stride into the store tomorrow afternoon and just order a phone to pick it up later in the month-- who cares about instant gratification, I get sleep. And part of me is saying, save your money. Buying a new phone will be a rush for like, an hour. Maybe a day, or a week, at most. But with $200, I can buy experiences that will make memories that will last forever.
I still kind of want the phone, though.
I sat at home all day today in complete disarray. It comes out tomorrow. My entire family is getting one. My boyfriend is getting one. But I-- the sad little girl with the First Generation iPhone-- the girl who is told "get a new phone" every time she walks into an Apple store-- has not pre-ordered her new phone.
Should I? It's $200 more for me than the average person upgrading. I'm splitting the cost with my parents. I frantically went through my budget (luckily, I've been updating it faithfully every Sunday). Yes, I can afford it, barely. I would have to wake up around 3 am to run to the Apple store to wait for it to open at 7. I would have to skimp on food, and summer outings. But... I would have an iPhone 4G. The iPhone to kick all other iPhones in the toosh. The iPhone with the facetime application, two cameras, a retina screen (whatever that means)...
And then I started thinking. Would that really make me happy?
Absolutely. But you know what would make me even happier? Sleeping past 3 am.
Is that completely crazy of me? I can't decide. Part of me is still tempted to set my alarm and decide when it goes off (almost 3 hours from now). Part of me is telling myself I can stride into the store tomorrow afternoon and just order a phone to pick it up later in the month-- who cares about instant gratification, I get sleep. And part of me is saying, save your money. Buying a new phone will be a rush for like, an hour. Maybe a day, or a week, at most. But with $200, I can buy experiences that will make memories that will last forever.
I still kind of want the phone, though.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Tuesday: Energy
It's only Tuesday and I'm already exhausted. I want to say that I don't know why-- because technically I shouldn't be exhausted... Technically I got about 8 hours of sleep last night; I spent today working from home, in which I spent two hours watching It Could Happen to You in between writing coverages; technically, all I've been doing are relaxing things. So why am I exhausted?
I think it's because I'm exhausting myself. Last week I didn't write at all, and it was one of the best weeks I've ever had in my entire life. I was in the office being helpful, brainstorming, thinking... I felt like I was on fire. I had energy. Now-- I feel like I can only think about my failure from last week. How I'm going nowhere with this screenplay I'm writing. How the pressure's piling up. How I have coverages to write.
And then, I'm not doing them. I write these resolutions, and I DON'T DO THEM. I don't know why. It's the not doing that's exhausting. The constant stress of feeling like I'm failing myself. I'm realizing that this is status quo for me. This constant feeling of being overwhelmed by things I don't want to do, by things I feel incapable of doing... This constant feeling of inadequacy, is what I have been struggling under for most of my life. And, what a surprise-- I went to a high powered private school on the track to an Ivy League college. My parents spent a great deal of money on me and it was always clear that I was an investment.
I am an investment. It's such a fucking insane idea to live up to.
In order to pull my life back on track, write my screenplay (or at least the outline), and find happiness--I need to stop thinking of myself as a commodity. I need to chill out and stop being so hard on myself. Oh, and I need to stop writing angry blogs.
I think it's because I'm exhausting myself. Last week I didn't write at all, and it was one of the best weeks I've ever had in my entire life. I was in the office being helpful, brainstorming, thinking... I felt like I was on fire. I had energy. Now-- I feel like I can only think about my failure from last week. How I'm going nowhere with this screenplay I'm writing. How the pressure's piling up. How I have coverages to write.
And then, I'm not doing them. I write these resolutions, and I DON'T DO THEM. I don't know why. It's the not doing that's exhausting. The constant stress of feeling like I'm failing myself. I'm realizing that this is status quo for me. This constant feeling of being overwhelmed by things I don't want to do, by things I feel incapable of doing... This constant feeling of inadequacy, is what I have been struggling under for most of my life. And, what a surprise-- I went to a high powered private school on the track to an Ivy League college. My parents spent a great deal of money on me and it was always clear that I was an investment.
I am an investment. It's such a fucking insane idea to live up to.
In order to pull my life back on track, write my screenplay (or at least the outline), and find happiness--I need to stop thinking of myself as a commodity. I need to chill out and stop being so hard on myself. Oh, and I need to stop writing angry blogs.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Rally
When faced with complete failure (i.e. I have not written in my blog, or logged any of my resolutions, or really striven to keep then) I have two choices:
1) Give up.
2) Rally, and try again.
Hm. Since I'm writing this, you can probably guess which one I've decided on.
Last week was actually quite awesome. I can't say this project isn't working, it just isn't working... to my satisfaction. I can do better. It all starts with... SLEEP. Last week was terrible (resolution wise) because I was woken up at 6 am every morning by my neighbor's water heater. I tried to "make the best of it" and be "grateful" but at 6 am that's simply not possible. Tomorrow I'm going to go to the mall and invest in noise canceling headphones.
So, the goals for the week:
1) Give up.
2) Rally, and try again.
Hm. Since I'm writing this, you can probably guess which one I've decided on.
Last week was actually quite awesome. I can't say this project isn't working, it just isn't working... to my satisfaction. I can do better. It all starts with... SLEEP. Last week was terrible (resolution wise) because I was woken up at 6 am every morning by my neighbor's water heater. I tried to "make the best of it" and be "grateful" but at 6 am that's simply not possible. Tomorrow I'm going to go to the mall and invest in noise canceling headphones.
So, the goals for the week:
- Blog regularly.
- Work on my screenplay--have a 3 page outline by Friday.
- FOCUS on my relationship. If there's one resolution I've absolutely failed, it's that one.
- SLEEP/Relax. Meditate. Do SOMETHING to get energy during the day. Exercise if possible.
- Do coverages. It's work I've haven't had time to do, and when I get home I've been too tired/avoiding it and it's guilting me.
- DO NOT PUTZ. Be efficient with what I do.
Monday, June 14, 2010
The Happiness Project Toolbox
I just started my "Happiness Project Toolbox" yesterday. It's a website run by Gretchen Rubin that helps ordinary people like me organize their thoughts on happiness into six categories: Resolutions, Personal Commandments, Inspiration Board, Lists, One-Sentence Journal, and Secrets of Adulthood. It also allows you to keep in contact with other people interested in happiness--kind of like Facebook for Happiness junkies.
Right now, I don't have anything on my Inspiration Board, or any real Personal Commandments (other than get 8 hours of sleep a night), or even any Secrets of Adulthood. I figure those will come as I go. But, I am starting to post my resolutions, and keep track of them. I'm making lists of things I'm doing, want to do, and have done. And I'm writing down all of my reflections, both the morning and the night, so when I look back on things, I'll remember them.
I've decided whoever said "ask and you shall receive" (was it the Bible?) was right. The more I look for help in life, the more I find it. It's only when I don't look that I think the world is unhelpful.
Right now, I don't have anything on my Inspiration Board, or any real Personal Commandments (other than get 8 hours of sleep a night), or even any Secrets of Adulthood. I figure those will come as I go. But, I am starting to post my resolutions, and keep track of them. I'm making lists of things I'm doing, want to do, and have done. And I'm writing down all of my reflections, both the morning and the night, so when I look back on things, I'll remember them.
I've decided whoever said "ask and you shall receive" (was it the Bible?) was right. The more I look for help in life, the more I find it. It's only when I don't look that I think the world is unhelpful.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
The Happiness Stigma
My father read this blog yesterday. His comment: "Sad. Why are you so unhappy at the world?" I can quote that because I immediately wrote it down. I didn't know how to respond. Sure, it was a rough day when the window-replacement-guys came, but other than that I was certain I hadn't spent my blog complaining about being unhappy. Instead, I had been practicing the Art of Happiness.
That's when I realized it--there's a stigma against happiness projects. We're all expected to be happy people, and so there's something terribly wrong with admitting that we're not 100% satisfied with our lives, with admitting that we want to change. It's deviant, and people assume that things must be so bad we should be pitied. My dad's not the only person who's responded this way. People keep asking me what's wrong with my life. I want to yell at them and beat them over the head, there's so much charity in their voices.
How many people in the world are 100% satisfied with their lives? Who doesn't wish for things to be a little different--to weigh a little less, to sleep a little more, to be able appreciate the good and brush off the bad? How many people wake up every day excited about three things that are going to happen? I decided I'm tired of only being 80% happy; of leaving things un-thought, un-said, and un-done in my life. So, I started this project to tie up all the loose ends. I'm not battling major depression here, I'm taking charge of my life.
That's when I realized it--there's a stigma against happiness projects. We're all expected to be happy people, and so there's something terribly wrong with admitting that we're not 100% satisfied with our lives, with admitting that we want to change. It's deviant, and people assume that things must be so bad we should be pitied. My dad's not the only person who's responded this way. People keep asking me what's wrong with my life. I want to yell at them and beat them over the head, there's so much charity in their voices.
How many people in the world are 100% satisfied with their lives? Who doesn't wish for things to be a little different--to weigh a little less, to sleep a little more, to be able appreciate the good and brush off the bad? How many people wake up every day excited about three things that are going to happen? I decided I'm tired of only being 80% happy; of leaving things un-thought, un-said, and un-done in my life. So, I started this project to tie up all the loose ends. I'm not battling major depression here, I'm taking charge of my life.
Friday, June 11, 2010
The Art of Re-Framing
Since it's Friday, I have the luxury of looking back at this past week and ruminating on all of the successes and failures--and gearing up to be a much, much, much better person next week.
The biggest successes of this week haven't been about changing the way I live. Let's face it, for the most part, I live the way I do because that's what I have the time and the energy for. When I started this I had all sorts of projects in mind--exercising every day, going to bed earlier, stop watching so much TV, start cooking... As soon as I got started, I realized it wasn't possible. I never even got on the treadmill this week--but I have spent, on average, two and a half hours stuck in traffic every single day. I haven't gone to bed earlier, instead I've watched two season of Sex and the City. But, here's the thing: if I'm not changing my actions, what am I changing?
Easy. I'm changing the way I think, and that's a lot harder than it sounds. I'm what they call a "Negative Nancy." I tend to see the downside to everything. I get upset about something and suddenly everything spirals out of control and everything seems horrible and I have trouble controlling my emotions. Some days, I wake up in the morning and just feel yucky--and it ruins the entire day. I decided if I ever want to be happy, (and if I ever wanted to change the way I acted) I needed to change the way I thought and perceived the world. Otherwise, I would never have the energy, or "see the point" of acting differently. I determined to tackle the morning first, since it seems to have the biggest effect.
I have a tremendously long morning routine. It takes me about twenty minutes of face-washing and lotion to even be ready to put on make-up--I'm not slow, or even picky about the way I look, I just have very sensitive skin. The first week I was in California, the combination of make-up (which I started wearing for the internship) and the sun made my face explode into unhappy redness and peeling. So, it's a twenty-minute routine. Every morning. And, every night. So, I decided that while I was applying "cleanser" and "rescue solution" (it's really called that) to my face, I would face my day as well. What am I excited for today? I ask myself. The first day, it was nearly impossible. It was a strange revelation: well, no wonder I'm not happy during the day, if I feel like there's nothing to be excited about. I forced myself to come up with three things. The next day it got easier. And today it was easier still. At the end of the day, as I "take off the day" and brush my teeth, I ask myself, what am I grateful for? Oddly enough, the three things I'm most grateful for happening that day, are almost never the same three things I was most excited about in the morning.
Simply re-framing my day--even the most horrible, terrible day--in terms of what I was grateful for, helps me relax and get perspective on everything that has happened. It balances the day out. I've learned that people have a "negativity bias"--we stack up all the negative things that happen and get stuck only being able to see or remember negative things. (Conversely, if we are happy, we will tend to see happy things and remember happier things). By forcing myself to remember the good things that happened, I'm punching holes in my negativity bias. Just being able to name a couple good things that happened helps me remember the entire day as being more successful.
Re-framing works in almost every situation--it's just about seeing the good instead of seeing the bad, and unfortunately it doesn't come naturally. Stuck in traffic? It gives me more time to plan my next blog post. Or my screenplay. Or call my grandmother, since I didn't have time to call her back last night. I have to go into work on Friday when I know the other intern doesn't? If I didn't go into work all I would do is sit at home by myself all day. Let's face it--I would rather be at work. Or, the biggest, most difficult piece of re-framing I've had to do yet (and it took my two days) I'm in trouble because I wrote about work in my blog and people get fired over things like that? (Panic, panic, panic) Thank God, I have an understanding boss and I found out about things like this now, as an intern, before I got into the "real world" and made some very serious unintentional mistakes! (In case you didn't get it, that's my apology for not writing the past few days.)
Anyways, Friday is about "having fun." I don't know how good I am at that--especially when I eat all my meals alone. But, tonight I took a pit-stop at Trader Joe's on the way home from restocking my house-sitting house with groceries and bought myself a pizza, a molten chocolate cake, and a tiny bottle of California white wine. I haven't decided what movie to watch yet, but I'm feeling very Sex and the City.
The biggest successes of this week haven't been about changing the way I live. Let's face it, for the most part, I live the way I do because that's what I have the time and the energy for. When I started this I had all sorts of projects in mind--exercising every day, going to bed earlier, stop watching so much TV, start cooking... As soon as I got started, I realized it wasn't possible. I never even got on the treadmill this week--but I have spent, on average, two and a half hours stuck in traffic every single day. I haven't gone to bed earlier, instead I've watched two season of Sex and the City. But, here's the thing: if I'm not changing my actions, what am I changing?
Easy. I'm changing the way I think, and that's a lot harder than it sounds. I'm what they call a "Negative Nancy." I tend to see the downside to everything. I get upset about something and suddenly everything spirals out of control and everything seems horrible and I have trouble controlling my emotions. Some days, I wake up in the morning and just feel yucky--and it ruins the entire day. I decided if I ever want to be happy, (and if I ever wanted to change the way I acted) I needed to change the way I thought and perceived the world. Otherwise, I would never have the energy, or "see the point" of acting differently. I determined to tackle the morning first, since it seems to have the biggest effect.
I have a tremendously long morning routine. It takes me about twenty minutes of face-washing and lotion to even be ready to put on make-up--I'm not slow, or even picky about the way I look, I just have very sensitive skin. The first week I was in California, the combination of make-up (which I started wearing for the internship) and the sun made my face explode into unhappy redness and peeling. So, it's a twenty-minute routine. Every morning. And, every night. So, I decided that while I was applying "cleanser" and "rescue solution" (it's really called that) to my face, I would face my day as well. What am I excited for today? I ask myself. The first day, it was nearly impossible. It was a strange revelation: well, no wonder I'm not happy during the day, if I feel like there's nothing to be excited about. I forced myself to come up with three things. The next day it got easier. And today it was easier still. At the end of the day, as I "take off the day" and brush my teeth, I ask myself, what am I grateful for? Oddly enough, the three things I'm most grateful for happening that day, are almost never the same three things I was most excited about in the morning.
Simply re-framing my day--even the most horrible, terrible day--in terms of what I was grateful for, helps me relax and get perspective on everything that has happened. It balances the day out. I've learned that people have a "negativity bias"--we stack up all the negative things that happen and get stuck only being able to see or remember negative things. (Conversely, if we are happy, we will tend to see happy things and remember happier things). By forcing myself to remember the good things that happened, I'm punching holes in my negativity bias. Just being able to name a couple good things that happened helps me remember the entire day as being more successful.
Re-framing works in almost every situation--it's just about seeing the good instead of seeing the bad, and unfortunately it doesn't come naturally. Stuck in traffic? It gives me more time to plan my next blog post. Or my screenplay. Or call my grandmother, since I didn't have time to call her back last night. I have to go into work on Friday when I know the other intern doesn't? If I didn't go into work all I would do is sit at home by myself all day. Let's face it--I would rather be at work. Or, the biggest, most difficult piece of re-framing I've had to do yet (and it took my two days) I'm in trouble because I wrote about work in my blog and people get fired over things like that? (Panic, panic, panic) Thank God, I have an understanding boss and I found out about things like this now, as an intern, before I got into the "real world" and made some very serious unintentional mistakes! (In case you didn't get it, that's my apology for not writing the past few days.)
Anyways, Friday is about "having fun." I don't know how good I am at that--especially when I eat all my meals alone. But, tonight I took a pit-stop at Trader Joe's on the way home from restocking my house-sitting house with groceries and bought myself a pizza, a molten chocolate cake, and a tiny bottle of California white wine. I haven't decided what movie to watch yet, but I'm feeling very Sex and the City.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Monday: Work
What am I expecting to get out of work this summer? Everyone keeps asking and I keeping telling them I want to learn as much as possible--but is that really it? Deep down, it feels like learning is just a means to an end. I think I want to learn because I want to fit in. I want to know if it's possible for me to fit in in this strange world of witty repartees and star-studded gossip. I know it's only the third week, but that's why I'm so sad when I'm at the studio, even though I like work. I barely understand the jokes--most of the names go completely over my head and I struggle to keep track of people. I'm so shy. I hate shy. I just clam up.
Just as I'm about to scold myself for being me, I try to remember that there's absolutely no way I'm every not going to be myself, and if I want to figure out if this career (i.e. screenwriting) will work in the long run, pretending to be someone else is the absolute worst thing I could ever do.
As for this summer... Part of knowing if I fit in is knowing whether or not I can do this whole "screenwriting" thing. Am I a screenwriter? Or, am I novelist? Or a blogger? Are they mutually exclusive? Well, the only way to know is to find out. I pitched a screenplay idea yesterday--about a nine-year-old girl and her little brother who invent a flying machine. Truthfully, I LOVE the idea. I can see it in my mind's eye and it's great. But when I try to articulate it, it completely sucks. The more I tried to pitch it, the worse it felt in my mouth. It's not my screenplay. A novel, maybe, but not my screenplay. So... Today I decided, I'm back on square one. I came out here deciding to do one of two options: write an animated feature, or a romantic comedy. Since animated features are much more complicated to make than I realized, romantic comedy it is. (Sorry David, if you're reading this).
Now, I just have to find a plot. Or a character. I'll take either one.
Just as I'm about to scold myself for being me, I try to remember that there's absolutely no way I'm every not going to be myself, and if I want to figure out if this career (i.e. screenwriting) will work in the long run, pretending to be someone else is the absolute worst thing I could ever do.
As for this summer... Part of knowing if I fit in is knowing whether or not I can do this whole "screenwriting" thing. Am I a screenwriter? Or, am I novelist? Or a blogger? Are they mutually exclusive? Well, the only way to know is to find out. I pitched a screenplay idea yesterday--about a nine-year-old girl and her little brother who invent a flying machine. Truthfully, I LOVE the idea. I can see it in my mind's eye and it's great. But when I try to articulate it, it completely sucks. The more I tried to pitch it, the worse it felt in my mouth. It's not my screenplay. A novel, maybe, but not my screenplay. So... Today I decided, I'm back on square one. I came out here deciding to do one of two options: write an animated feature, or a romantic comedy. Since animated features are much more complicated to make than I realized, romantic comedy it is. (Sorry David, if you're reading this).
Now, I just have to find a plot. Or a character. I'll take either one.
Monday, June 7, 2010
The Plan
Five and a half hours later, I have a plan. Identify the problem, then solve it.
The problem with a happiness project on top of a busy work week and family commitments and relationship struggles and oh-so-many-other trials and tribulations is that I don't have months to devote to each aspect of my life that I want to improve. I have three months, to be exact, and I have way more than three things that need to be worked out in that amount of time. I can't put something off because it's my "Energy" month now, and I'm going to wait to improve that until my "Relationship" month. My life is immediate.
But, I can't just tackle a laundry list of happiness demands, either. That's too overwhelming and would be discouraging.
As a compromise, I've assigned each day of the week a "theme." Monday is my "Work" day; Tuesday is "Energy," Wednesday is "Friendships," Thursday is "Relationships" and Friday is "Having Fun." I'm giving myself the weekend off, because let's face it-- I'm a working girl. I need the vacation. Every day I'm going to evaluate and think about my progress in that area of my life. This week, I'm going to think about where I want to be going for the rest of the summer. Of course, thinking about friendships doesn't stop me from doing my work, having fun, concentrating on my relationship or anything else I decide is important to my happiness. But, devoting a day of the week to think about it will help me focus on how I'm doing and what's important.
Today is Monday, that means that today I'm thinking about what I want to get out of my work. That's good, because I'm getting ready to head to the studio.
The problem with a happiness project on top of a busy work week and family commitments and relationship struggles and oh-so-many-other trials and tribulations is that I don't have months to devote to each aspect of my life that I want to improve. I have three months, to be exact, and I have way more than three things that need to be worked out in that amount of time. I can't put something off because it's my "Energy" month now, and I'm going to wait to improve that until my "Relationship" month. My life is immediate.
But, I can't just tackle a laundry list of happiness demands, either. That's too overwhelming and would be discouraging.
As a compromise, I've assigned each day of the week a "theme." Monday is my "Work" day; Tuesday is "Energy," Wednesday is "Friendships," Thursday is "Relationships" and Friday is "Having Fun." I'm giving myself the weekend off, because let's face it-- I'm a working girl. I need the vacation. Every day I'm going to evaluate and think about my progress in that area of my life. This week, I'm going to think about where I want to be going for the rest of the summer. Of course, thinking about friendships doesn't stop me from doing my work, having fun, concentrating on my relationship or anything else I decide is important to my happiness. But, devoting a day of the week to think about it will help me focus on how I'm doing and what's important.
Today is Monday, that means that today I'm thinking about what I want to get out of my work. That's good, because I'm getting ready to head to the studio.
The Project, re-definined
It's four am. I've been tossing and turning since three. Finally, nine minutes ago, I decided to suck it up and get out of bed. I'm grateful to be up at four am, I told myself, applying one of the many principles from my new guide to life, The Happiness Project. Total and utter bull. It sucks to be up at four am. I have to go to work tomorrow, and not only that-- I have to be awake for work tomorrow. But, I realized something by the time I was out of bed at 4:06 am. I'm up, whether I want to be or not, and I can either deal and write the blog post I've been meaning to write all night, or I can pout and toss and turn and be angry at myself and continue to get no sleep while being extremely frustrated and unhappy. I choose the former.
So here I am, in my office, with the lights dimmed and a nice warm glass of milk. I get the sense I'm going to get a lot of writing done. Good. I need to.
After writing on Friday that I needed more in my life than just work, I spent the weekend thinking a great deal about happiness (and work). I've been inspired by Gretchen Rubin's The Happiness Project (as you can probably tell--I keep linking to it. If you buy it by clicking through me, I'll get part of the proceeds!). The project is deceptively simple: Gretchen, a New York writer, dedicated a year to making herself happier. It sounds selfish, but she did her research (which included philosophers and novelists as well as positive psychologists) and found that happiness not only affects the self, but also all of the people around you. By making herself happier, she was working to make her family happier, and in general, the world a better place. It was sort of a personal experiment. I'm in the process of finishing the book now and I think it's brilliant.
I was gushing about it to my boyfriend Adam earlier this weekend, he's a psychology major and read it for his positive psychology class. His take was more skeptical: "None of us [in his positive psych class] can afford to spend a year dropping out and focusing entirely on ourselves." He said his professor agreed that while the book was great, the concept was flawed-- Gretchen lived an exceptional life. She's financially supported by her husband; she's "all grown up," and she's a writer, so she had the free time to experiment with a project like "happiness." I instantly felt a stab of pity for her, even though we never met. Adam's criticism, though completely valid, touched on every insecurity she seemed to express throughout her book. Then, I felt a stab of defensiveness.
At first, I didn't want to admit that Gretchen had an exceptional life, but it's true. Her life is different from mine. I'm 21, still a student, still trying to figure out how to pay the heating bills in the winter. I have NO IDEA what I'm going to do when I get out of college, which might even be next December. My internship this summer is all-consuming-- I can't devote hours to reading on happiness and I don't have time to write a novel in a month or write gratitude letters every night. I barely have enough time to write this blog. Still, I hated the idea that Adam could be right.
Then, I woke up at three in the morning. I realized that whether or not we "have time" we're going to be constantly forced to make happiness decisions every single day. This morning I got out of bed grumbling that Gretchen Rubin didn't have to go to work at eight am; she could sleep later in the day if she wanted to, so it's all very well to say "I'm grateful to be up at four am"-- things are different when you have to go to work. Then it hit me that I was up at four whether I was going to work or not, so I could choose to be "grateful" and make something of it, or I could storm about and hit the bed (as I have so many other mornings) and be completely unproductive. I'm glad I decided to be grateful.
Adam and his psychology professor are right: not all of us have a year to devote to being happier. I have three months before I go back to college. Not all of us have unlimited time to read and think about happiness-- we already have jobs. I work for two very demanding screenwriters whose demands are slowly taking over my life. The trick is to work happiness into all of that. I started this blog with only a vague idea that I wanted to write about working in the film business and my goal to be happier, but now, a week later, we have a more substantial project: Create my own happiness project (I call it the California Project, because that's how long it will last). Somehow, I'm going to find a way to be happy, while embracing all of the constraints that already inhibit my life.
Haha. The sheer ambition of it makes me nervous.
. Total and utter bull. It sucks to be up at four am. I have to go to work tomorrow, and not only that-- I have to be awake for work tomorrow. But, I realized something by the time I was out of bed at 4:06 am. I'm up, whether I want to be or not, and I can either deal and write the blog post I've been meaning to write all night, or I can pout and toss and turn and be angry at myself and continue to get no sleep while being extremely frustrated and unhappy. I choose the former.So here I am, in my office, with the lights dimmed and a nice warm glass of milk. I get the sense I'm going to get a lot of writing done. Good. I need to.
After writing on Friday that I needed more in my life than just work, I spent the weekend thinking a great deal about happiness (and work). I've been inspired by Gretchen Rubin's The Happiness Project (as you can probably tell--I keep linking to it. If you buy it by clicking through me, I'll get part of the proceeds!). The project is deceptively simple: Gretchen, a New York writer, dedicated a year to making herself happier. It sounds selfish, but she did her research (which included philosophers and novelists as well as positive psychologists) and found that happiness not only affects the self, but also all of the people around you. By making herself happier, she was working to make her family happier, and in general, the world a better place. It was sort of a personal experiment. I'm in the process of finishing the book now and I think it's brilliant.
I was gushing about it to my boyfriend Adam earlier this weekend, he's a psychology major and read it for his positive psychology class. His take was more skeptical: "None of us [in his positive psych class] can afford to spend a year dropping out and focusing entirely on ourselves." He said his professor agreed that while the book was great, the concept was flawed-- Gretchen lived an exceptional life. She's financially supported by her husband; she's "all grown up," and she's a writer, so she had the free time to experiment with a project like "happiness." I instantly felt a stab of pity for her, even though we never met. Adam's criticism, though completely valid, touched on every insecurity she seemed to express throughout her book. Then, I felt a stab of defensiveness.
At first, I didn't want to admit that Gretchen had an exceptional life, but it's true. Her life is different from mine. I'm 21, still a student, still trying to figure out how to pay the heating bills in the winter. I have NO IDEA what I'm going to do when I get out of college, which might even be next December. My internship this summer is all-consuming-- I can't devote hours to reading on happiness and I don't have time to write a novel in a month or write gratitude letters every night. I barely have enough time to write this blog. Still, I hated the idea that Adam could be right.
Then, I woke up at three in the morning. I realized that whether or not we "have time" we're going to be constantly forced to make happiness decisions every single day. This morning I got out of bed grumbling that Gretchen Rubin didn't have to go to work at eight am; she could sleep later in the day if she wanted to, so it's all very well to say "I'm grateful to be up at four am"-- things are different when you have to go to work. Then it hit me that I was up at four whether I was going to work or not, so I could choose to be "grateful" and make something of it, or I could storm about and hit the bed (as I have so many other mornings) and be completely unproductive. I'm glad I decided to be grateful.
Adam and his psychology professor are right: not all of us have a year to devote to being happier. I have three months before I go back to college. Not all of us have unlimited time to read and think about happiness-- we already have jobs. I work for two very demanding screenwriters whose demands are slowly taking over my life. The trick is to work happiness into all of that. I started this blog with only a vague idea that I wanted to write about working in the film business and my goal to be happier, but now, a week later, we have a more substantial project: Create my own happiness project (I call it the California Project, because that's how long it will last). Somehow, I'm going to find a way to be happy, while embracing all of the constraints that already inhibit my life.
Haha. The sheer ambition of it makes me nervous.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Window Replacements
Today, I had an utter meltdown. I mean, serious complete, sobbing until I couldn't breathe. Then, I called my boyfriend Adam and picked a fight.
It all started with the window replacements. That's my job for the two weeks that I'm house-sitting (well, one of my jobs). The problem is, none of the companies want to talk to me if they know I'm just a lowly assistant. They will only deal with, as they term it, the "decision maker." I almost gave up a few days ago, but I gritted my teeth, made the appointments, put on my bougiest outfit (JCrew necklace, Gap sweater, and gold gladiator sandals) and tried to smile my way through the whole thing. No go. The first appointment was fine. The guy didn't seem to care who I was, and I merely said "thank you" every time he told me how much he love my house. (Yeah right, like I could afford a place like this.) The second guy was tougher. He started asking all these questions, like how long had I lived here, and what were my children's names (the window being replaced is in Stuart's daughter's room). I hit a brick wall. For some reason--I'm hoping it's a good one--I couldn't lie. I told him the truth. I'm just the assistant. He thought about it for a second. Then said, "Nope. Sorry, we're not interested."
I felt like I had just been dumped.
He gave me his business card, and told me to give him a call if I was ever authorized to make any purchases. I held it together, politely thanked him for coming, and waited to close the front door behind him before bursting into tears. Why? Because I felt like I had failed? Because it was a slap in the face to be refused like that? I'm still not sure. But, I can tell you it was grueling, and took two episodes of Sex and the City to gear up for the third appointment, which was completely uneventful, and made me feel a little better.
All this made me realize, though-- I need something more than a job to keep me going. It makes me feel ridiculous when I completely fall to pieces like that over something so small--a window. When I was in school, my grades kept me going. That was it--the coup de grace--the be-all, end-all of my self-esteem. Now, it's my job performance. Let's face it, I'm a perfectionist at heart, and I probably always will be. But maybe there's a better way to live my life, while still being perfect.
I'm going to have to think about this.
It all started with the window replacements. That's my job for the two weeks that I'm house-sitting (well, one of my jobs). The problem is, none of the companies want to talk to me if they know I'm just a lowly assistant. They will only deal with, as they term it, the "decision maker." I almost gave up a few days ago, but I gritted my teeth, made the appointments, put on my bougiest outfit (JCrew necklace, Gap sweater, and gold gladiator sandals) and tried to smile my way through the whole thing. No go. The first appointment was fine. The guy didn't seem to care who I was, and I merely said "thank you" every time he told me how much he love my house. (Yeah right, like I could afford a place like this.) The second guy was tougher. He started asking all these questions, like how long had I lived here, and what were my children's names (the window being replaced is in Stuart's daughter's room). I hit a brick wall. For some reason--I'm hoping it's a good one--I couldn't lie. I told him the truth. I'm just the assistant. He thought about it for a second. Then said, "Nope. Sorry, we're not interested."
I felt like I had just been dumped.
He gave me his business card, and told me to give him a call if I was ever authorized to make any purchases. I held it together, politely thanked him for coming, and waited to close the front door behind him before bursting into tears. Why? Because I felt like I had failed? Because it was a slap in the face to be refused like that? I'm still not sure. But, I can tell you it was grueling, and took two episodes of Sex and the City to gear up for the third appointment, which was completely uneventful, and made me feel a little better.
All this made me realize, though-- I need something more than a job to keep me going. It makes me feel ridiculous when I completely fall to pieces like that over something so small--a window. When I was in school, my grades kept me going. That was it--the coup de grace--the be-all, end-all of my self-esteem. Now, it's my job performance. Let's face it, I'm a perfectionist at heart, and I probably always will be. But maybe there's a better way to live my life, while still being perfect.
I'm going to have to think about this.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
The California Project
I'm thinking Walden in Central/Westside LA. Here's the deal: three months as a summer intern in the heart of the film industry. Emily Mullin, almost entirely alone in the city of Los Angeles (with the exception of some very energetic relatives, and her grandmother), needs something to keep her from going completely insane. This is it.
The title? A melange (that's right, she's re-learning French) of The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin, and The Julie/Julia Project
by Julia Powell. If everyone else can use the magic of the internet to revamp their lives, why can't she? She's going to stop writing in the third person very soon, she promises.
The details: She's working for two screenwriters. The rest of the summer is for her to figure out.
The Goal: Find happiness. Wherever that may be.
The title? A melange (that's right, she's re-learning French) of The Happiness Project
by Gretchen Rubin, and The Julie/Julia Project by Julia Powell. If everyone else can use the magic of the internet to revamp their lives, why can't she? She's going to stop writing in the third person very soon, she promises.The details: She's working for two screenwriters. The rest of the summer is for her to figure out.
The Goal: Find happiness. Wherever that may be.
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