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.

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.

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.

More Pigs

Sometimes, you just need to remember what's really important in life.

A Year of Complete Happiness?

Cathal Morrow has an interesting theory. "happy / unhappy are entirely unrelated," he writes, "happiness is a permanent state in us all, if we allow it to be."

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. :)

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.

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.