Genuine well being for ourselves and the planet

Posts tagged ‘The How of Happiness: A Scientific Approach to Getting the Life You Want’

The Purpose of Happiness

Happy with a purpose: pushing the stroller!

Happy with a purpose: pushing the stroller!

I’ll admit to being just a wee bit clever with the headline.

That is, I’m mushing together two different happiness threads.  First, I want to share some current thoughts on why cultivating individual and systemic well-being is so vital.  Second, I’ve had some personal experiences and observations on Sonja Lyubomirsky‘s “Happiness Activity No. 10” — committing to your goals, or, having a purpose.

Why Happiness Matters      

There are, of course, a multitude of reasons why happiness matters, including sounder health, greater creativity, increased compassion, more personal success,and better parenting.  Perhaps because I’ve had a grand baby living in my house, I often think of Christine Carter’s book Raising Happiness and her emphasis on parents “putting on your own (happiness) oxygen masks first” to raise compassionate, joyful children.  Obviously, I want to do my part to help my grand daughter become a compassionate and joyful person.

Then there’s Aristotle’s quote:  “Happiness is the meaning and purpose of life, the whole aim and end of human existence.”  That is, all our other purposes in life are really in the service of happiness for ourselves and others.  Happiness is purpose in capital letters.

But what really made me want to write on this topic were three lines from a book I bought at Omega Institute in Rhinebeck, New York last month.  The book is Happiness by Thich Nhat Hanh. It contains a variety of mindfulness practices to “fully enjoy life’s gifts.”  In the intro, the Buddhist monk writes, “Every step and every breath can be an opportunity for joy and happiness.  Life is full of suffering.  If we don’t have enough happiness on reserve, we have no means to take care of our despair.”

A few days later, the urgency of cultivating both personal happiness and a societal Gross National Happiness paradigm struck me as I listened to a National Public Radio story on how warmer temperatures that come with climate change could lead to spikes in violence and fighting.

We have to figure out a better way to cope, and soon.  Here’s a goal: for the impossibly big stuff (climate change) and the smaller griefs (like the one I share below), let’s substantially build our happiness reserves.

If history predicts the future, happiness may well be key to positively and collectively adapting to change.  According to evolutionary psychologist David Lykken — one of the early modern happiness researchers — happiness is an “adaptive difference”  that during early human history at least “increased the chances of survival … improved one’s chances of maintaining and profiting from group membership (and) gradually separated our ancestors from the also-ran. ”  (Happiness, p. 14)

Perhaps, happiness will once again be a key determinant of human survival.  

Purpose as a Happiness Strategy

Unlike our ancient ancestors, we can benefit from researchers like Lyubomirsky and their guide books for our individual happiness journeys.  In The How of Happiness, Lyubomirsky details 12 happiness activities; number 10 focuses on goals.

She starts that chapter with a quote from Australian psychiatrist W. Beran Wolfe, written in 1932: “If you observe a really happy man you will find him building a boat, writing a symphony, educating his son, growing dahlias in his garden, or looking for dinosaur eggs in the Gobi Desert.”  Or, as Lyubomirsky more succinctly put it, “Find a happy person, and you will find a project.” (p. 205)

My inspiration on this topic was closer to home, and very 21st century — a walk several weeks ago with my 15 month-old granddaughter Madeleine.  She and I were returning from the neighborhood labyrinth about a mile and a half away.  Though she contently rode to the labyrinth in her stroller, on the way back, she started fussing.  For some reason, I asked her if she wanted to help push.

Boy, did she.  It was hot and we had a long way to go, but that little girl was determined to “push” the stroller all the way home (with grandma’s help, of course).  Because I knew she was exhausted, I tried repeatedly to convince her to quit pushing and relax in the passenger seat.  No way.  She had a purpose, one that clearly fed her happiness in that moment.  Though she is too young to articulate goals, if she could, I’m sure she would have said her goal was to push the stroller to our front door.  In fact, she diligently and doggedly pushed for more than a mile.  Looking down at her little body working so hard was a poignant sight — and a lesson in the value of purpose.

Lyubomirsky cautions that no happiness strategy will resonate with everyone, and that is true even within my immediate nuclear family.  Unlike Madeleine, her grandfather (my husband Bob) is not goal oriented.  He always has many projects going — he’s just not in a hurry to finish anything.  Earlier in our marriage, Bob’s lack of purpose upset me.  I’d press him to articulate his goals, and he would panic because … he basically doesn’t have any.   Yet, he’s content and happy.  Part of my lifelong learning was to recognize that he is who he is, and one of my goals should definitely not be to change him.  Similarly, Madeleine has always been a determined and focused little being; I wouldn’t even dream of trying to change her!

As for me, purpose not only helps define my most satisfying days, it is also a reliable coping strategy* when life isn’t working the way I’d like — for example, dealing with the smaller grief I mentioned above.  Just a few days ago, my beautiful daughter and granddaughter — who came to live with us when the baby was only five weeks old — moved to a distant state.  The move is a good thing, and definitely meets my daughter’s need to have a purpose (teaching university students).  I’m happy for them.  Nonetheless, I was very, very sad when the moving van drove away.   Everywhere I looked, I saw memories of Madeleine and our precious year and a half together.

Fortunately, I also saw projects everywhere.  I cried awhile, and then tackled my oppressively messy clothes situation.  Two days later, I had one bag of clothes to donate to an artist friend who will re-purpose the material beautifully; two large trash bags filled with clothes to donate to the Goodwill; one trash bag filled with items that just needed to be thrown away; and a much, much neater closet and dresser.  Best of all, I felt better.  This project helped me say goodbye to the past and turn toward the fun times my granddaughter and I will share in the future.  It was soothing, and settling.

Since June, I have co-facilitated a happiness study group designed to help each participant determine which which strategies from The How of Happiness will best make each of us happy.  It’s been clear to me for some time that spreading happiness is one of the most fundamentally important purposes of my life.  Now, I also appreciate just how much having a purpose and pursuing my goals deepens my own happiness.   It is comforting knowledge.

____

* Developing coping strategies for challenging times is another of Lyubomirsky’s recommended happiness activities.

Category:

Personal Happiness, Taking Care of Ourselves, The Science of Happiness, Work And Happiness

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It’s Vacation Time! Is Everybody Happy?

This Memorial Day weekend it was snowing at my home in Vermont, but now that the sun is out — and we’re supposed to get 80-degree temperatures in a few more days — perhaps we can relax and believe that summer is finally here.  For many of us, in addition to pulling endless weeds, summer means vacation!  Will those vacations make us happy?

According to research, yes.  A February 2010  New York Times article  reported on findings from the Netherlands that vacations do in fact make us happier, if nothing goes wrong, like an illness or a fight with your spouse.  The Dutch researchers found that the biggest happiness hit comes from anticipation.  We can also savor the joy of vacations in the present moment.  Not only that — Sonja Lyubomirsky notes in The How of Happiness that we can savor these experiences in retrospect, especially with the aid of photographs.

A very happy evening with a simple but savory meal on the beach.

A very happy evening with a simple but savory meal on the beach.

Okay, that’s the research, that’s the theory.  But how does it work in “real” life?  This has been on my mind because a month ago, when I was returning from a blissful week long stay at the beach, I was not happy.  Rather, I was close to tears — and a little bit angry, too.

The anger — or maybe it was resentment — was toward those (temporarily?) fortunate souls who were just arriving on the island and toward those with the financial resources to afford second homes and lots of time in this heavenly spot.  I felt like living proof that our country’s extreme income inequality breeds unhappiness.

I also felt spoiled, petty, and not very highly evolved for even thinking in these terms.  First of all, the trip was an amazing Christmas present to me from my very loving husband, and throughout the week, I was filled with gratitude for him.  But the desire to stay longer overwhelmed me with sadness.  Ah, desire — the cause of so much suffering!

Further, I know that comparing ourselves with others is insidious and a sure fire recipe for unhappiness.  Yet there I was, comparing away, and finding myself very much wanting … Never mind that I was still in a warm, sunny, carefree place while most of my friends were stuck in climates where winter just wouldn’t let up.  Or, the much broader comparison with all the pockets of desperate unhappiness in the world.  I was looking at those with more money and more time than me, and that comparison was anything but cheer inducing.

I’m pleased to report, I’ve got my happiness equilibrium back and can look at photos and videos of the trip and feel joy.  I still long to return, but that longing functions more as an inspiration for me to take the steps I need to take to make that happen.  It’s now a goal, and goals can increase our happiness.  Can increase our happiness, or not — depending on the goal!

A month out from my sad state of desire and social comparison, I’ve landed on three thoughts: first, happiness is a process; second, the ground rules can seem murky sometimes; and third, never underestimate the value of a mindfulness practice.

A Lifelong Process: In my happiness workshops, I like to quote writer Margaret Lee Runbeck, who said, “Happiness is not a state to arrive at, but a manner of traveling.”  I also like to compare cultivating one’s own happiness with maintaining flexibility through a regular yoga practice.  It’s not something we can do once or twice and declare victory.  We have to stick with it to maintain our happiness muscle tone.

So maybe my vacation deprivation was a little teeny tiny example of income inequality — and maybe, much more so, I was a loud example of the need to maintain one’s happiness practices.  After all, I read about this field all the time, and I try to heed the wisdom of the great science of happiness thinkers.  Throughout the week, I consciously savored the experience, expressed gratitude, exercised, and even went to yoga class twice.

It wasn’t enough to carry me through the departure.  Guess I’ve still got work — a lot of work!! — to do on my happiness journey.

The murkiness of happiness practices: Driving home, I mulled over the complexity of happiness strategies.  For example, savoring.  Really, it was a sweet, sweet week — perfect weather, and we saw many wild animals in their own habitat (including a snake that liked our patio, and two manatees in a nearby canal) — with much to savor.  But, did that make it harder to let go?

Then there’s social comparison — obviously, a source of distress for me.   Yet, comparison with others can serve as a spur, providing us with the role models we need to follow.  For example, there was a lot of time for people watching on the beach, and I saw many fit bodies of all ages — an inspiration to me to be more physically active and stay as healthy as I can for as long as I can.  Envy may be destructive, but looking at a woman older than me in great shape, and thinking, “Wow, good for her!  Maybe I can do better, too!” seems very positive and an excellent motivation for long-term happiness.

Mindfulness: I’m beginning to think all roads lead to mindfulness.  It seems like any happiness question or strategy you examine includes a crucial element of awareness.  In this case, thankfully, I was aware and self-reflective.  While I felt bad for myself, I knew that was a) petty and b) temporary.

Mindfulness helps us make better choices.  I say that I now have a goal of getting back to this gorgeous island, but at what cost?  Do I focus on making money for a vacation rather than follow my true calling?  Do I choose a tropical vacation trip over a visit with my granddaughter?  Meditating helps me find the answers to these and an infinite number of other questions, big and small.

I also know that so much unhappiness can come from wanting.  Wanting, wanting, wanting.  And yes, that wanting can sometimes serve us, but more frequently it leads to unnecessary suffering.  A meditation practice is so crucial to building and maintaining an awareness of what really matters in life.

Meditation also strengthens our capacity for compassion.  In my sadness at leaving behind a week of joy, perhaps I could have had compassion for myself; compassion for those who get to spend more time on the island but undoubtedly have their own suffering; compassion for those just arriving for their week’s vacation and who might be as sad as me the following Saturday; compassion for my friends enduring a snowy April; etc. That’s a very big etc., and I’m sure you can fill in the many, many blanks.

The Dalai Lama has said, “If you want others to be happy, practice compassion.  If you want to be happy, practice compassion.”

I often practice a loving kindness (aka, compassion) meditation, but I did not meditate on this vacation.  I’m sure it’s natural to feel a sense of loss when vacation ends — the high of a good vacation is by its nature fleeting.  Still, I wonder if meditating while on vacation would have made departing an easier pill to swallow.  Hmmmmm … maybe I’ll give it a try next time.

Category:

Expectations, Gratitude, Personal Happiness, Savoring

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Happiness In Unlikely Places And Forms

The shell casing I was given at a garage in rural SW Virginia.

Last Wednesday got off to an easy, breezy start.   Then, as life is wont to do, the day took a more challenging turn.

Here’s the cool thing: the worst, highly  stressful, and most expensive part of my day grew into a sweet,  surprising and profound life episode.  It was an unlikely lesson in happiness.

This blog is a little long, almost a short story.  I’d love to know your reaction.  Here goes:

The weather was fabulous.  I was feeling fine, cruising along life’s metaphorical highway, and the very real real I-81 — an overcrowded interstate with the benefit of spectacular mountain scenery on both sides of the road.  Savoring is a highly effective happiness strategy, and I was savoring the view big time.

While I drove, I listened to The How of Happiness: A Scientific Approach To Getting the Life You Want by Sonja Lyubomirsky.  Though I was familiar with many of the book’s concepts, much of it was new and exciting.  Learning makes us happy, and I was in the learning flow.  Quite happily.

I was also happily driving toward my daughter’s house, to help her in the weeks before and after she gives birth to her first baby and my first granddaughter.  Helping others — again, an excellent happiness strategy.  Building connections with loved ones — bingo, lots of happiness there.

But that’s not all.  Before I got to Alabama for the birth, I’d be stopping in the western highlands of North Carolina to stay with my friend of 40+ years, Jeannette Cabanis-Brewin.  Jeannette had arranged to host my first ever “Happiness As A Way of Being” 3-hour workshop — so I had a clear purpose to aim toward.  Guess what?  Having a purpose is happiness inducing.

I picnicked at a roadside rest, where I could pat myself on the back for savoring the wildflowers, the clouds, and the butterflies, and being grateful for my husband for packing my food and for the custodial staff who kept the rest area clean and beautiful.  Uh-huh, I was doing just fine in the happiness department.

And then …  happiness became harder to access.

I had stopped for gas in a tiny town, far in the southwest corner of Virginia.  I misjudged my turn into the gas station driveway, and ran over the curb.  The sounds from my car’s underbelly were ominous.

Nonetheless, I paid for and pumped the gas.  I was eager to get out of there.  Not only was I worried about reaching my rural destination in the daylight, I felt like an unwanted alien in this part of the world.  In our red state-blue state country, I felt like my Vermont license plate was a bull’s eye.

So I gave the car a once over, saw nothing amiss, and started up the ramp toward the interstate.  The next sounds were unmistakably bad; I had busted up the front right tire pretty impressively, even cracking the hub cap.  I backed down the ramp — something my righteous self always judges others harshly for doing — and returned to the gas station.

Happiness?  What happiness?  Fears and anxieties were coming on strong.  I am not good with things.  I generally operate on the assumption that they will always work.  When they stop working, usually my husband (who can fix most anything) takes care of it. Now, I was alone.  I was going to be late.  This would probably cost a lot of money.  I was stuck for at least a little while in an uncomfortable environment.

Fortunately,  my happiness studies have taught me that one reason to continually strengthen the brain’s ability to access happiness is to be able to bounce back when your life gets derailed.  Obviously, in the scheme of things, a busted tire is minor, just a baby blip.  Still, I was upset and aggravated.  And, I had an excellent opportunity to walk my happiness talk.

First up: dropping the internal wall I had built between myself and the folks who lived here, folks whose help I now needed.  I struggled to put my own prejudices aside, and reach out, person-to-person.

After a few phone calls, my angel arrived in the form of a young man named Jake.  Jake drove a black Camaro and had such a thick mountain accent that I couldn’t always decipher his words.   Nonetheless, he made clear from the get go that he was there to help me.  He was unfailingly polite, kind, and non-judgmental — even when I couldn’t tell him where the jack was located in my car.  I felt like an idiot, but a grateful idiot.

Jake eventually got my car to the garage where he and his father work.  He urged me to come in out of the hot sun.  When their garage didn’t have the right sized tire, Jake took off for the local junkyard, and got into an argument with the owner who was trying to close for the day.  Jake insisted that the junkyard stay open long enough for him to find the tire that I needed.

Meanwhile, Jake’s daddy came over to talk to me.  “You are a very lucky person,” he said.  His words threw me for a loop.  They felt like a message from the Universe.  “I believe I am,” I replied.  “But why are you telling me that now?”

He replied, “Because you got my son to help you.  Most people these days, they won’t help.  But he’s a good boy.  He’s made an enemy of the junkyard owner, all to help you.”

I decided to tell the dad about my happiness workshop.  He told me, “You want to be happy?  Find God.”  My defenses wanted to rise up, but I managed to beat them back and keep listening.  “I was never a godly man before,” he said.  “But a few weeks ago, a lady came in here and we test drove her car to see what was wrong. ‘There’s nothing wrong with my car,’ she said. ‘God is trying to get your attention.  There’s going to be a tornado, and it will hit you at this spot in the road.'”  A few weeks later, as killer tornadoes struck throughout the South and Midwest, the dad and his truck were indeed lifted up and thrown down by a tornado in the exact spot that woman had predicted.  The truck was totaled.  Three people in town were killed.  He believes in God now.

I was amazed at the story, and at his decision to share with me.

He continued working while we waited for his son to return with the junkyard tire.  After a bit, he asked for a favor.  He pointed out his boss, the garage owner.  “If you do nothing else today, tell him what a good job my son is doing for you.”  Of course, I said I would.

So I struck up a conversation with the boss.  Turns out, he’s a granddad of three, happy to wish me well on my journey.  After I told the boss how grateful I was for Jake and his dad, I came out and exchanged conspiratorial nods with the dad.  Those nods gave me a surge of joy.  We were connected.

All the while, I kept beating back fear and anxiety.  How much time was this taking?  How much money would it cost? How far was I from Jeannette’s house?  When would it get dark?  Would I be too tired to drive?  Would I have more car troubles?

Concurrently, I practiced happiness strategies — gratitude, connection, and a reminder that I was actually perfectly okay in the moment.  The strategies kept me calm, and aware of the good in my situation.

In preparation for the happiness workshop, I had with me a bin of gifts I like to hand out: common stones on which I’ve hand-painted glittery hearts.  To me, they symbolize giving from the heart — and I gave one to Jake when I paid the unexpectedly low bill.  I explained that the stone was a token of my appreciation for how well he treated me.  Jake seemed pleased.

His daddy, too.  The dad quickly said, “I have something for you!” and then handed me the shell casing in the photo.  He was glowing with pride and joy as he gave me this precious offering.

A shell casing?  Me?  I didn’t even know really what it was.  Part of my brain — the judging part, the part that puts distance between me and others — was ready to spring into action and say, are you kidding?  No thanks, buddy.

Instead I said, and meant, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Thank you.

Just before I got in my car, he gave me another present.  “Watch your speed!” he admonished.  “The next county is full of cops.  They’ll pull you over if you’re even five miles over the speed limit.”

And so my journey continued.  The exuberance from the earlier part of the day was gone, but a deep sense of wonderment and awe and spiritual connection had taken its place.  I was tired and still stressed, but in some ways happier.

So what’s the lesson?  For me, it’s knowing that happiness takes many unexpected forms, if only we can quiet our reptile brains and open our hearts wide enough to receive the bounty.  That sweet and peculiar sequence of events was also a gritty affirmation of my intellectual belief that we’re all connected — a belief I don’t always nurture in real life — and that happiness grows in those connections.  I don’t necessarily have to understand it.  I can just feel it.  Finally, as I wrote about in November 2011, happiness doesn’t lie merely in giving.  We must also receive, with humility and gratitude.

Postscript:The next day, I wrapped up the happiness workshop with a seven-minute Loving Kindness Meditation.  After I explained how the meditation would work, I realized my chime was in a different part of the house.  But a water glass, and the shell casing, were sitting nearby.  Thanks to Jeannette’s suggestion, I began and ended the meditation by clicking the shell casing three times against the water glass.

Perfect.

I am a lucky person.

Category:

The Science of Happiness

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A Very Happy Night

In a few days, I will leave home for nearly two months to support my daughter during the final weeks of her pregnancy, in the delivery room, and for the first month or so of my granddaughter’s life.  I am excited and busy.  My mind is swimming with details.

Last night, though, I put details aside to be with a group of friends who held a Grandmother Baby Shower/Blessings On Your New Adventure/Please Return Safely ceremony for me.  It was one of the happiest nights of my life.

Previously Loved Baby Presents

Happiness studies show that we each have a natural happiness level, which can be raised by developing happiness habits.  Joyous events and circumstances, like the communal love I felt last night, raise our happiness level for a while. Sad, tragic, and dreary situations lower our happiness. In either case, we eventually settle back into our natural level.

This morning, I’m tired (I was too wired up to sleep well!) but still enjoying a happiness upswing.

Why so happy?  Silly question, right?  Anybody could look at the circumstances and say, of course you’re happy!  You’re about to become a grandmother, your friends just celebrated your joy — and, icing on the cake, you’ll be driving away from the tedious end of a Vermont winter into sunny warm weather in Alabama.  Who wouldn’t be happy?

Even so, I want to break it down a bit.  Grand-babies don’t come along every day, but the other ingredients of my current happiness high are available to each of us on a pretty regular basis.

Gratitude. Gratitude is one of the most reliable contributors to personal happiness, and my gratitude cup is overflowing.  Hugs, blessings, good food, thoughtful presents … I’m so, so grateful.  I’m not very good at writing thank you notes, but I’m going to send a heartfelt thank you to send one to everyone who made last night special.

Community. My town has pot lucks, talent shows, silent auctions.  We take meals to people who are sick, and check on pets.  We sing together, swim together, skate together, snow shoe together.  It’s like a bank: we make regular deposits in our community account.  And when we need a withdrawal, the “funds” are there.  It’s a solid investment strategy.

Forgiveness. When I looked around the room, I felt such pleasure in my relationship with each woman in the group. Because we’re human, I’ve been in conflict with some of the women in the past — conflict that we worked through together so we could move on.  I’ve forgiven, been forgiven, and deepened relationships.

Touch. Twice we stood in a circle holding hands.  Hugs were also abundant.  Gretchen Rubin, author of the blog and book The Happiness Project, cited research on hugging from  The How of Happiness by Sonja Lyubomirsky.  Rubin wrote about Lyubomirksy’s “study in which students were assigned to two groups. One group was the control; one group was assigned to give or receive at least five hugs each day for a month – a front-to-front, non-sexual hug, with both arms of both participants involved, and with the aim of hugging as many different people as possible. The huggers were happier.”  Let’s hear it for hugs!

Mindfulness. Savoring, and being fully present, are excellent happiness tools!  Perhaps I’ve been sharpening those tools lately through a ramped up meditation practice.  And/or, perhaps the loving energy and shining eyes all around the room were too powerful for my mind to wander, despite my pre-trip to do list.  I knew I was experiencing a very special, once-in-a-lifetime event.  I was definitely present, and in full savoring mode.

Recycling.  My friends know, I strongly believe changing our shopping habits to be less voracious consumers of Planet Earth is a requirement of our long term personal happiness.  So I was thrilled that several of the presents were items previously-loved by other babies.  I was especially pleased to know that my young friend Edwin (just three years old) gave the thumbs up to passing on one of his old trains to the new baby. Learning to give is good for Edwin’s happiness, too.

Acknowledgement.  Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs includes the need for recognition from others (as well as internal self-eteem). In general, I try to give generously of my time, and my heart, with no expectation of any recognition (except from my faithful husband; his support is usually enough).  But I just flushed with pleasure last night when one friend explained that they wanted to have this party for me because I “do so much for the community” and I “will be missed.”  It makes me feel good even now to type those words!  Sometimes, recognition does matter.

Okay, enough analyzing.  I’ll get out of my head, and slide back into enjoying the moment.


Category:

The Science of Happiness

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