The Happiness Project

If you're in the mood to read a novel about happiness...

A reader suggested that once a month, I include a suggested reading list. Great idea: I’ll include this list on the last day of every month.

Because it’s summer, when people tend to have more time to read novels, I’ll start with a list of novels that I found most interesting on the subject of happiness.

All of these books are TERRIFIC. You may be cowed by the thought of reading War and Peace, but I was staying up late to read it every night until I finished it--there's a reason it's a classic of world literature. Or if you're in the mood for something more light and fun, start with Happy All the Time. But I promise, you can't go wrong with any book on this list.

Elizabeth von Arnim, Elizabeth and Her German Garden
Wallace Stegner, Crossing to Safety
J. P. Marquand, Point of No Return
Marilynne Robinson, Gilead
Laurie Colwin, Happy All the Time
Michael Frayn, A Landing on the Sun
Lisa Grunwald, Whatever Makes You Happy
Nick Hornby, How to Be Good
Ian McEwan, Saturday
Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace
Winifred Watson, Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day

Are you a satisficer or a maximizer?

Last night, at dinner with some friends, we talked about whether we were satisficers or maximizers.

Satisficers (yes, satisfice is a word, I checked) are those who make a decision or take action once their criteria are met. That doesn’t mean they’ll settle for mediocrity; their criteria can be very high; but as soon as they find the car, the hotel, or the pasta sauce that has the qualities they want, they’re satisfied.

Maximizers want to make the optimal decision. So even if they see a bicycle or a photographer that would seem to meet their requirements, they can’t make a decision until after they’ve examined every option, so they know they’re making the best possible choice.

Most people are a mix of both approaches. For example, one friend was a satisficer about renting an apartment, but a maximizer about buying an apartment. As a consequence, he and his wife are renting an apartment now, because they had to move, and they're still searching for the perfect apartment to buy.

In a fascinating book, The Paradox of Choice, Barry Schwartz argues that satisficers tend to be happier than maximizers. Maximizers must spend a lot more time and energy to reach a decision, and they’re often anxious about whether they are, in fact, making the best choice.

My mother is a good example of what I’d call a “happy limited maximizer.” In certain distinct categories, she’s a maximizer, and she loves the very process of investigating every possibility. My sister is getting married next year, and I know that my mother would love nothing more than to see her try on practically every possible wedding dress, just for the fun of it. But too often maximizers find the research process exhausting—yet can’t let themselves “settle” for anything but the best.

The difference between the two approaches may be one reason some people find a big city like New York overwhelming. If you’re a maximizer, and you live in New York, you could spend months surveying your options for bedroom furniture or even wooden hangers. In a smaller city, like Kansas City, even the most zealous maximizer can size up the available options pretty quickly.

In almost every category, I’m a satisficer, and until I read the Schwartz book, I felt guilty about the fact that often I make decisions without doing more research. For example, when I wanted to start a weight-training program, I didn’t study the options at all. A friend of mine told me she loved her trainer and regime, and I just got the number and called. In law school, one friend interviewed with something like fifty law firms before she decided where she wanted to go as a summer associate; I think I interviewed with six. And we ended up at the same firm (which I found both reassuring and vindicating).

It’s one of Life’s True Rules: let someone else do the research.

This Wednesday: Tips...for staying motivated to exercise.

Every Wednesday is Tip Day.
This Wednesday: Tips…for staying motivated to exercise.

I keep myself motivated to exercise by reminding myself of all the benefits. Personally, I find I’m more motivated by short-term gratifications like “I’ll feel more cheerful” or “I’ll sleep better” than long-term considerations like “I’ll live longer” or “If I have surgery, I’ll recover quicker.” (See the post for May 23 if you want tips for making yourself exercise.)

1. Remember, exercise for SANITY not VANITY. If you’re exercising only to lose weight, it’s easy to get discouraged. Exercise for other reasons, and you’re more likely to stick to it. And it is true that people who exercise regularly tend to be far more successful at maintaining weight loss.

2. Exercise boosts energy. It took me a long time to notice that I’d drag myself to the gym, work out for forty minutes, and leave feeling far more energetic than when I went in.

3. Exercise provides an outlet for feelings of pent-up hostility, irritation, and anger. I always find that I’m more even-tempered on days when I’ve exercised. Negative emotions require a lot of energy.

4. The consistent, repetitive motion of exercises like walking and running brings a serene mood and clarifies thinking. I’ve had all my best writing ideas when walking or running, and sometimes assign myself a particular problem to think over during a walk.

5. Yoga is relaxing and calming. I do yoga regularly, but must confess I don’t empty my mind, meditate, or find it a particularly spiritual endeavor. But I know that many people find those aspects of yoga the most valuable.

6. Sticking to an exercise regime raises your self-esteem for the very fact that you’re sticking to an exercise regime.

7. Exercise offers a chance to be alone and uninterrupted—a relief if, like me, you’re often surrounded by distractions. Of course, exercise also offers a chance to get together with other people.

8. When you experiences stress, your body prepares for “fight or flight” with a huge number of biochemical reactions. A stressful event these days, however, is more likely to require a phone call than a sprint uphill. The potentially damaging byproducts of the stress response, such as cortisol, nevertheless continue to pump through the body. Regular exercise helps to ameliorate these effects.

9. Some people get a “runner’s high,” but even those who, like me, never get quite that euphoric nevertheless get a huge boost in mood from frequent exercise.

10. Exercise helps you fall asleep more easily and sleep more deeply.

11. People who exercise handle old age better: they move more easily and energetically. I think a lot about how to set myself up now to be in good shape much later.

12. I make exercise more satisfying by considering the pleasure of being able to work out easily and without pain—no wheelchair, no crutches, no brace, no trick knee or bad back.

A stitch in time saves nine.

I was so pleased with myself. The Big Girl's passport exires in July, and I planned to apply for the renewal in Kansas City. Because she's under fourteen, I have to apply in person.

One of the drawbacks of New York is that if you're trying to do something, at least thirty other people are also trying to do it. And for something like a passport renewal--well, maybe it wouldn't be a hassle, but I wouldn't want to find out. And in Kansas City, you just hop in your car and go; somehow that makes it seem a lot easier.

At Christmas, I applied for the Little Girl's passport in Kansas City, and it couldn't have been quicker or easier.

So I gathered the application form, passport photos, and the notarized letter from the Big Man, allowing me to apply for a passport without his presence. Then, just before we were about to set off, I decided to double-check the passport agency's website. And I saw that I needed the Big Girl's birth certificate--which I'd left in New York.

I'm so annoyed with myself. Usually I double- and triple-check requirements like this; what happened?

Because I'd thought I'd avoided having to do this errand in New York, it now looms even more horribly in my mind. Aargh.

When I was young, I was puzzled by the adage: "A stich in time saves nine." I just didn't understand the meaning of the sentence. Then finally light dawned: "Oh, it means that taking one stich right away saves needing to take nine stitches later."

Like many wise old sayings, it's absolutely true. If I'd taken fifteen seconds to double-check the requirements on-line before leaving New York, I'd have made my task a lot easier. Plus I would have been able to do an annoying errand during a vacation day, instead of a work day. (Unlike many wise old sayings, "A stitch in time saves nine" isn't contradicted by some other wise old saying. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder" and "Out of sight, out of mind." "He who hesitates is lost" and "Haste makes waste."

Oh, well. I remind myself of another wise old saying: "Don't make a mountain out of a molehill."

This Saturday: a quote from Benjamin Franklin.

"Who is strong? He that can conquer his bad Habits." --Poor Richard's Almanack.

Lapses in my happiness resolutions.

I'm having a great time in Kansas City. On the very day we arrived, we went to the pool, the library, and the best hamburger place in the country, Winstead's. We visited the duck pond, and the Big Girl fell in--traumatic when it happened, but sure to be a highlight of her childhood.

But I noticed something strange about myself before I left New York. My happiness-project discipline crumbled. Knowing that I was leaving town somehow made me feel as if all rules were suspended.

First, a few weeks ago, I had to stop buying Nutritious Creation's chocolate-chip cookies. I love these big cookies so much that I was eating them all the time, so I decided to give them up entirely. But my last day in New York I ate three. I think my subconscious thinking went something like, "These cookies aren't available in Kansas City, so even if I break my resolution now, I'll have no trouble sticking to it once I leave. So I should go ahead now."

Second, in April, I focused on strengthening friendships and being more loving. One of my resolutions was to give up gossip and idle criticism. Well, just before leaving for Kansas City, talking to the Big Man, I launched into a disparaging analysis of a guy I know. Bottom line: he has bad values. I think my criticism was valid, but why make it? I felt self-righteous in my criticism of him, but own behavior was mean-spirited and unkind. Again, I think I was rationalizing, "You're going on vacation! Indulge a little."

The cookies and the bout of mean talk had much the same effect. The indulgence felt deliciously wicked and satisfying--until I was finished. Then I felt terrible.

That's the annoying thing about the lessons of the Happiness Project. These aren't rules that can be followed for a month, then checked off the list. People keep asking me, "So how long are you going to do all this?" The answer is, "From now on, as best as I can manage."

The happiness of going on a vacation.

I just started a week's holiday in my favorite vacation destination. From the first moment, when our family is met right at the airline gate, I know we'll have a wonderful time. The beds are deep and soft, all our favorite foods are prepared, we can borrow a car anytime, there are shelves of books, toys, and DVDs, we have a full itinerary of visits to all the local places of interest, someone picks up the laundry, we have the use of a gym and a country club, babysitting is free and easy to arrange...

Yes, I love coming home to stay with my parents in Kansas City.

Clouding my enjoyment is the fact that my parents just moved and redecorated, and everywhere I look, I see beautifully spotless surfaces that are targets for damage. It would be bad enough if the Big Girl left a magic marker uncapped on the rug, or if the Little Girl smeared banana on a freshly painted wall--but they're being watched. What's far more likely to happen is that I'll overturn the bottle of syrupy infant Tylenol onto a newly recovered chair, or the Big Man will put down his coffee cup on a wooden table.

Much to their credit, my parents are very relaxed about our potential for destruction.

This Wednesday: Tips...for handling mail.

Every Wednesday is Tip Day.
This Wednesday: Tips…for handling mail.

You come home to a glowering stack of mail. What next? Everyone’s routine will be slightly different, but here’s the system that, after much trial and error, I devised for myself.

1. The first and KEY step to handling mail: I stand next to a wastebasket and toss junk-mail the minute I identify it.

2. I put magazines in the magazine drawer. Most people display magazines on coffee tables or in special magazine racks. I’ve never understood this. Magazines always look messy. I keep them out of sight.

3. I open bills and throw away everything but the parts I need. I’ve been considering automating my bills, but some friends have had bad experiences, so I’m holding off for now.

4. I put those bills in my correspondence drawer, where I keep stamps, envelopes, an address stamp, and my checkbook. Once a week or so, I watch a Friends re-run and pay them.

5. I put invitations in a special pile to take to my office, along with anything else that needs to be noted on my calendar or that requires a phone call.

6. In my office, I have an “Upcoming Events and Invitations” folder. There I put invitations, directions, tickets, emailed plane tickets, reminder notices, any information related to an upcoming event. I write “yes” on an invitation after I’ve rsvp’d, so I know I’ve responded.

7. A lot of people like to put invitations on their refrigerator, keep theater tickets tacked to a cork board in the hallway, put notices on their kitchen counters. To me, this is visual clutter. I have no cork board, keep my fridge bare, and make a daily sweep of papers off the counters. Clean surfaces create a calm mind.

8. I open the Big Man’s mail, too. If it’s something he needs to read, I leave it on the counter where he puts his wallet and keys each night. After he ignores his mail for two or three days, I chase him around the house until he deals with it.

9. I don’t know what people are “officially” supposed to keep, so this is just what works for me: I only keep bank and credit card statements, and I doubt very much that I even need to keep those, but I find them handy. If you’re keeping big piles of receipts, ask yourself: have I ever used this? How easily could I get a duplicate, if I did need it? Keep as little as possible.

Happiness and the theme, "Eat a peach."

Somewhat cryptically, my theme for June is “Eat a peach.” I took the phrase from T. S. Eliot’s poem, “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock”:

I grow old…I grow old… I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.

I may be misappropriating the quote, but I know what “Eat a peach” means for me. Even though one of my main goals for the Happiness Project is “Be Gretchen,” I want to push myself, to eat a peach, to outgrow the accidental limitations of my nature.

On June 2, I talked about my desire to overcome my fear of driving. That’s part of “Eat a peach.”

Another challenge is to get over my aversion to conducting interviews. Following my rule of identify the problem, I realized that a big part of this reluctance came from a fear that I don’t know the proper procedures, that I’d seem unprofessional.

So I’ve set up times to have coffee with friends who do interviews regularly, to ask them exactly how to do it. And I’ve ordered a recorder and a transcriber, so I have the proper tools. And then the next step will be to begin interviewing people.

But also, just as “eat a peach” means challenging myself to overcome my fears, it means that I should challenge myself to embrace everyday pleasures.

For instance, on a recent visit to New York from Kansas City, my mother remarked, “I love walking down the streets and seeing all the flowers in front of the little delis.” Well, I’d never given any thought to noticing the flowers along the sidewalk. Now I remind myself to notice the flowers outside the shops as well as the flowers planted up and down Park Avenue.

Likitsakos, the gourmet shop around the corner from my apartment, keeps its fruits and vegetables displayed in baskets along the sidewalk. Instead of walking by, oblivious, I now take a moment to register the beauty of the fruits’ colors and fragrance. Maybe today I’ll stop to buy a peach.

I dropped the ball on Father's Day.

I feel terrible. I didn’t do anything for the Big Man for Father’s Day yesterday. He said he didn’t care, and I believe him, but I care. And I even forgot even to call my own father, let alone send him a gift.

People make fun of the “Hallmark holidays” as the creations of corporations to force spending on the public, but I think they’re important.

It’s good to be reminded once a year to think about your mother and father, and to do something to show your appreciation.

After all, actions follow feelings, so loving actions strengthen loving feelings. I remember a few years ago, I was furious at the Big Man for some reason. But figuring out a Father’s Day plan with the Big Girl completely dissipated my anger.

That’s why I’m so upset about my failure this year.

I make the feeble excuse that we were visiting friends for the weekend, so I couldn’t even fall back on the let’s-make-him-breakfast-in-bed.

And we didn’t have Saturday to concoct our usual homemade gift, as we usually do. By the way, if you like to give homemade presents, a great investment is a laminator. Laminating makes anything special—a drawing, a card, an invitation. One of my favorite gifts is to ask the Big Girl to write a list of “Ten Reasons I Love X…” or “Ten Things I Love To Do with X…” She dictates, I type, she picks a different fancy font for each item, (the Big Girl is obsessed with fonts), decorate with stickers, then laminate. This gift is thoughtful, easy to display and store, and really captures a moment in a child’s life.

But for Father’s Day this year, nothing. We’re going to Kansas City in a few days, so I promised my father we’d have a postponed Father’s Day celebration when we arrive. But what to do about the Big Man? I think I’ll have to plan something really special for next year.