The Happiness Project

This Saturday: a quote from Alexander Pope.

Order is Heaven's first law.
--Alexander Pope.

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

On the last day of each month, I include a happiness suggested-reading list. (I'm fudging it a bit this month, because Saturday is always my day to post my favorite quotes.)

Here is a list of just a few of the key classic works on the subject of happiness -- ones that I found particularly useful or interesting. It's a stretch to include St. Therese's memoir here, because it doesn't really fit, but I couldn't resist -- I love Story of a Soul so much.

Aristotle, The Nicomachean Ethics
Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy
Cicero, On the Good Life
Epicurus, The Essential Epicurus
Plutarch, Selected Essays
Schopenhauer, Parerga and Paralipomena I and II
Seneca, Notes from a Stoic
St. Therese, Story of a Soul
Montaigne, Essays

Need a reason to smile as you walk down the street or drive alone in your car?

As part of my resolution to “Lighten up,” I’ve been trying to remember to smile in odd moments.

At first I felt a bit silly as I walked along with a smile on my face, but I quickly realized that no one minds if you’re looking happy. I also try to smile whenever I interact with someone—buying a cup of coffee, checking in at the gym, going through security before going up to an office (is it only in New York City that you have to show your driver’s license in order to go into an office building?).

Facial expressions don’t merely reflect emotions, they also affect emotions. In “facial feedback,” studies show, the mere act of smiling makes people happier—even when they smile mechanically, as I’m doing, or when they’re asked not to “smile” but rather to contract specific facial muscles.

Random smiling is an example of my resolution to “Act as I want to feel”: while people suppose that feelings inspire actions, in fact, actions also inspire feelings. So by acting happier, I should feel happier. And you know, I think I do. “Sometimes your joy is the source of your smile,” Thich Nhat Hanh wrote, “but sometimes your smile can be the source of your joy.”

Also, because of emotional contagion, people often mimic the faces of people they see. I’ve definitely noticed that people are much more likely to smile at me when I’m smiling.

The biggest challenge is to remember to do it. I’m reminded of my various efforts to improve my posture. I’m good for a little while, then get distracted and don’t think about it for the rest of the day. So I’ve been trying to use the sight of a traffic light as a prompt.

This Wednesday: Seven tips for defusing a child's tantrum.

Every Wednesday is Tip Day.
This Wednesday: Seven tips for defusing a child’s tantrum.

We all know we’re supposed to set reasonable boundaries, have clear expectations, follow predictable routines, blah, blah, blah—but what can you do right this minute if your child is starting to howl with frustration after learning that no, actually, we’re out of Cheerios?

These are strategies that have worked for me.

The secret is to acknowledge the reality of children’s wishes. This sounds obvious, but think about how easy it is to deny their feelings: “You can’t possibly want another Lego set, you never play with the ones you have.” “That toy is just junk.” “You can’t be hungry, you just had dinner.” “Of course you want to go, you love going to Grandpa’s house.” “You’re not scared of clowns.”

When you don’t fight children’s feelings, they’re better able to handle frustration.

1. Write it down. This is weirdly effective, even with kids too young to read. Seeing you put words on paper reassures them that you’ve registered their desires. At first, with the Big Girl, I would explain that I was writing a list – for the grocery store, for Christmas – but then I realized she didn’t need a promise that her wish would be fulfilled. It was enough just to say, “I’m going to write that down!”

2. Wave your magic wand. This works especially well if your child loves a particular magic story. We’ve gone through, “If I were Glinda, I would wave my magic wand to make the rain go away!” to “If I were Willy Wonka, I’d make a medicine that tasted just like Tootsie Rolls!” to “If I were Dumbledore, I’d conjure a magic carpet so we could fly the rest of the way instead of walk!”

3. Listen for the true concern. When the Big Girl said to me, “Everyone pays more attention to the Little Girl than to me,” I had a rare moment of wisdom enough to bite back my first responses: “You know that’s not true,” or “Didn’t I just play ten game of Blink with you?” Instead, I said, “No matter what, you know that you are our most precious, darling girl, and no one would ever forget about you, or think that someone else is more important than you.” She skipped off.

4. Accept that your child might feel differently from you. You’re cold, maybe your child isn’t. So why insist on a sweater? What’s the worse that can happen if a kid goes outside without a sweater?

5. Make an unannoying joke. This is extremely effective, but also practically impossible to pull off, because a whining kid will suck every particle of humor out of your head. But if you can manage it, you’ll feel great. The Big Girl complained to me, “I don’t want to go to Tae Kwon Do.” I wanted to say, “You always say you don’t want to go, but then you have fun,” or “I don’t like to hear all this griping.” Instead, I said, “You’re a poet and you don’t know it!” After a minute I added, “I don’t give a snap about going to Tap.” The Big Girl answered, “I want to stop going to Hip Hop.” I hate every kind of bathroom humor, but she loves it, so I whispered, “I don’t give a fart about going to Art.” We laughed until our stomachs hurt. Remember, though, even if you think you’re being funny, if you’re annoying your child with your jokes, you’ll only make things worse.

6. Repeat the desire aloud. Crazily enough, just repeating what a child is saying, to show that you understand the message, will often restore peace. “You’re having fun at home. You don’t feel like leaving to go the school picnic, you want to keep looking at your book of optical illusions. But now we have to get ready to go.”

This last tip also works with adults. For example, the Big Man asked me to send a particular tricky email. I sent it, but it didn’t say exactly what he’d wanted. He complained, “I asked you to send a particular message, and I don’t know why you didn’t just do it the way I wanted.” Instead of answering defensively with something like, “Well, I think my solution was better,” or “Then you should have sent the email yourself,” I said, “You wish I’d sent the email the way you wanted.” And that was it! We both instantly felt the air clear.

7. Don’t pay TOO much attention. Notwithstanding the six tips above, I’ve realized recently that I think I’ve fallen into the habit of paying special attention to the Big Girl when I sense a fit of pique approaching. That’s not good, because it means I'm rewarding behavior I want to discourage. So I’ve been working on applying the six tips above without making a big song-and-dance out of it.
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I just discovered a site, Kiddley, with great parenting information -- projects, links, tips, information, great graphics. It inspired me to try to come up with a new project to do with the Big Girl. I also found Finslippy, a blog kept by a very funny mother (although why it's called Finslippy, I'm not sure).

How to be happier? Act nicer.

It’s a bit ridiculous, but I was moved by a small gesture from the Big Man the other day.

“I’m ordering for some books from Amazon,” he said. “Do you want me to get anything for you?”

Now, the Big Man and I order from Amazon independently. For one thing, I always wait until I have enough items to qualify for free shipping; he doesn’t.

So it was unusual for him to ask me that question. I kept thinking about it later, and finally asked myself—what’s the big deal? The Big Man is often thoughtful (more often than I). Why was I so touched by this little gesture?

I realized: because it was out of the ordinary.

There’s no way to know, but I wonder if his action is tied to the Happiness Project. I’ve been trying to bite my tongue, to resist nagging, to pitch in more, to do the little tasks he particularly dislikes, to be more enthusiastic and appreciative.

For example, speaking of book-buying, I stopped nagging him about the fact that he sometimes orders thrillers in hardback, several times he has bought a book without looking to see that we already owned it, and—did I mention this?—he doesn’t worry about qualifying for free shipping. I decided to let it go. After all, as a writer, I should hardly complain about people buying too many books.

I’m very well-acquainted with the feeling that if only people would be nicer to me, more thoughtful, more considerate, more full of praise and appreciation and admiration, then I would be able to reciprocate.

My sister and I have a phrase for this: “I need to get a present in the mail.” That means that we need some unexpected affirmation, some thoughtful treat from somewhere, to buoy us up.

But the fact is, I can’t make someone send me a present in the mail. The only person I control is myself. So did my happiness-project-inspired changes in behavior make me happier?

Yes, they did—even completely apart from any change in behavior on the part of the Big Man.

Big surprise: it turns out that being a nagging, pestering, shirking person isn’t the best road to happiness. So changing my behavior made me feel happier.

But, in an added bonus, I think my changes have made changes in the Big Man, too. It seems to me that he’s become more tender and patient.

Now, that’s not very scientific standard of measurement. Maybe I’m just seeing what I want to see. Maybe—but who cares? If I think we’re happier, then we are happier.

Now that I’m focusing on the Amazon moment, however, I realize that I didn’t say a word to the Big Man about how much I appreciated his consideration. Now I need to tell him.

A morning encounter with mayhem.

At about 9:15 this morning, as I was walking from my apartment down Lexington Avenue to the gym where I do my weight-training, I noticed a cluster of people gathered at the corner of 63rd Street -- and finally the sound of screeching sirens penetrated my early-morning daze. What was happening?

In one of those spontaneous, comforting, crisis conversations, I began talking to two women near me. “I was coming out of Equinox when I saw a car hit the side of a building!” said one woman. “I was in a taxi and heard three gunshots,” said the other woman. “A guy was fleeing, and he had a gun, so the police shot him! And a car ran off the sidewalk and hit some people outside the American Express office.”

One of them warned me not to walk any further down Lexington, because “there might be guns lying around.” I never worry about things like that, and I was curious to see the intersection for myself—the rubber-necking instinct.

Well, I saw much more than I expected. I’d assumed that this had all happened some time before, but I must have walked up just a few minutes later — as evidenced by the fact there were no TV or newspaper crews there, just a crowd of people, all of them talking on their cell phones. I overheard a woman say, “It’s just like a Law and Order episode!”

And a man’s body was still lying in the intersection of 63rd and Lexington. He looked dead.

Nearby, a crew was trying to fit a protective helmet onto the head of the man who’d been trapped against the side of the building by the car. They had a stretcher ready, but were having trouble getting him pulled away.

More and more police and official vehicles were arriving every minute.

It gave me a strange feeling: that on an ordinary, sunny morning, in a mundane, familiar place, such violence could break out, just a few minutes before I passed — and to see a man lying motionless in the street, right where he fell — to see such dramatic change, and so much activity, and then just to walk right by it. I was untouched; I had no role to play.

As soon as I got home, I went online and found a news story. According to the police, at about 9:15 this morning, Transit police were chasing an SUV down Lexington when it ran a red light at 63rd and struck another car, which hit the American Express office and pinned several pedestrians. The SUV driver jumped out wielding a knife, so the police used pepper spray and shot him in the stomach. He’s in the hospital in serious condition – zoikes, he sure looked dead. Six other people were hurt.

The surprising, unsettling, unattractive thing I discovered in myself — and I don’t know if this reflects badly on me or is just a feature of human nature — is that seeing all this actually boosted my mood after the first horrified shock wore off. I felt energized; lucky; far more aware of the beauties of the day.

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I just discovered a blogger who's thinking along much the same lines as I am with the Happiness Project: How To Live. This is a blog that tackles big questions -- lots of interesting material there.

This Saturday: a quote from Giacometti.

“The more I work, the more I see things differently, that is, everything gains in grandeur every day, becomes more and more unknown, more and more beautiful. The closer I come, the grander it is, the more remote it is.”
--Giacometti.

Want to have meaningful conversation with a stranger?

I’ve discovered that a benefit of the Happiness Project is that the subject of happiness is great food for conversation with a stranger.

Whenever I’m talking to someone I’ve never met before, I can explain the subject of my book and say, “I ask everyone I meet – do you have any tips, rules to live by, thoughts, or great resources about happiness?”

Everyone has tremendously interesting things to say about happiness. Some have a long list of thoughtful principles. Some deny that happiness is real. Some say they don’t follow any rules – but then realize that they do, once we talk for a bit. Each answer is interesting for its own reasons.

It’s a great help to hear so many viewpoints, of course. And people also seem to enjoy being cast in the role of expert.

It’s also very nice to have a strategy – without resorting to a gimmick or seeming nosy – to ask a question that goes right to the core; because even with someone sympathetic and engaging, it can be difficult to identify common ground for a meaningful conversation.

How do you break through the superficialities: what do you do, where do you live, how did you spend the summer, etc.? E. M. Forster wrote, “Only connect.” But how to connect?

Most people can’t use the I’m-writing-a-book-about-happiness strategy for connecting with a new acquaintance, obviously. But I imagine you could achieve get the same outcome by explaining you’re taking an informal poll on a particular question: “Are people today better or worse parents than the generation who were our parents?” “What’s more important to a satisfying life, passion or balance?” “Are the qualities of conformity and conventionality actually very laudable?” “What would your life be like if you still lived in your home town?” or whatever.

Posing such a question to many different people allows you to connect on a deeper level with others, to gain insight into an interesting question, and to make social interactions easier and more fun.

Surely that makes for more happiness.

In which I make a small purchase of a blue bird to see if it makes me happy.

By way of background, July was my month to “Buy a white t-shirt, throw away a white t-shirt,” with the related resolutions to “Indulge in a modest splurge” and “Make purchases that will further my happiness goals.”

The Upper East Side has several stores that, though small, carry a bizarrely enormous range of goods—everything from Halloween decorations to vacuum cleaners to fancy candles—packed into a tiny space.

I had a few minutes before a meeting, so I wandered into one to see if I could spot anything we needed (a January resolution: “Buy needful things”).

I found myself staring up at an array of little, realistically carved, battery-operated Breezy Singers birds--complete with motion sensors so they move and twitter when anyone walks by.

I would never have noticed them, except that my mother has the goldfinch in her laundry room. It was fun to walk in with a load of dirty clothes and be greeted by bird song – although it’s true I jumped out of my skin almost every time.

I wouldn’t even have considered buying one of the birds, except that I noticed that one of the birds was a bluebird.

A surprising number of people don’t know about the deep connection between bluebirds and happiness. As far as I know, this connection arose from Maurice Maeterlinck’s wonderful play, The Blue Bird, which was a great success in its time. It’s a wonderful play -- and also a 1940 Shirley Temple movie, which is terrific, for those of us who appreciate Shirley Temple.

In The Blue Bird, two poor children, Tyltyl and Myltyl, are ordered by the Fairy Berylune to go out in the world to find the Blue Bird. She tells them,

“The Blue Bird stands for happiness. I want you to understand that my little girl must be happy in order to get well. That is why I now command you to go out into the world and find the Blue Bird for her.”

The Blue Bird is crammed with obvious symbolism and is highly didactic – just the kind of thing I like. For example, when the children fail to find the Blue Bird, “Light” says to Tyltyl,

‘You did your best. And, although you did not find the Blue Bird, you deserved to do so, for the good-will, bravery, and courage which you showed.’
Light’s face beamed with happiness as she spoke these words, for she knew that to deserve to find the Blue Bird was much the same thing as finding it. But she was not allowed to say this, for it was a beautiful mystery, which Tyltyl had to solve for himself.

Then when the children at last come home, having failed, they find the Blue Bird there. “It’s the Blue Bird we were looking for! We’ve been miles and miles and miles, and he was here all the time! He was here, at home!” You get the message.

I’d been talking about adopting the blue bird as my personal motif. I’d become charmed with the idea of personal motifs — not that I did much about it. I did mention it to a friend, and in one of the best gift-choosing strokes of all time, she gave me an old bracelet that spells out “Bluebirds,” meant for girls who were members of the “Blue Bird," a group like the Camp Fire Girls. I love the bracelet so much that of course I don’t wear it (breaking my resolution, “Spend out”); I should probably get it framed.

Anyway, I stood transfixed in front of the blue bird gadget. My usual resistance to buying things was there: it’s a waste of money, it will clutter up the house, I don’t need it, I don’t want to take the time to make a purchase. All true.

But then I thought—it would be fun to have it. At $12, it was a modest splurge. Also, it could further my happiness goals: every time I walked into my office, it would sing, and I could use this as a prompt to reflect on my happiness, my gratitude, my resolutions. And it would reflect my personal motif.

So I bought it. And now it's sitting on the shelf, right next to the Winston Churchill mug the Big Man bought me to celebrate my finishing Forty Ways to Look at Winston Churchill. And I must say it makes me happy to see them there together.

This Wednesday: a quiz--is your workspace driving you crazy?

Every Wednesday is Tip Day—or quiz day.
This Wednesday’s Quiz: Is the design of your office slowly driving you crazy?

I’ve been reading the strange, brilliant, fascinating book, A Pattern Language: Towns, Building Construction. It uses architecture, sociology, psychology, and anthropology to describe the most satisfying architectural environments.

Of course, I know nothing about this subject, so anyone who knows this field, or the history of this book, may consider my enthusiasm naïve and uninformed. But I don’t care. What the authors describe resonates with me completely. I crave the Sitting Wall, the Front Door Bench, the Child Caves, the Sequence of Sitting Spaces, the Sleeping to the East!

The authors also discuss commercial spaces and offices. Are you being driven mad at work by misplaced walls or the wrong kinds of noise? Take this quiz to see how your office measures up.

According to A Pattern Language: Towns, Building Construction, you’ll be comfortable in your workspace when:

 there’s a wall behind you (so no one can sneak up behind you).
 there’s a wall to one side (too much openness makes you feel exposed).
 there’s no blank wall within 8 feet in front of you (or you have no place to rest your eyes).
 you work in at least 60 square feet (or you feel cramped).
 your workspace is 50-75% enclosed by walls or windows (so you have a feeling of openness).
 you have a view to the outside (no matter how large your office, you will feel confined in a room without a view).
 you are aware of at least 2 other people, but not more than 8 people, around you (less than 2, you feel isolated and ignored; more than 8, you feel like a cog in a machine).
 you can’t hear workplaces noises that are very different from the kind of noises you make at work (you concentrate better when the people around you are engaged in similar tasks, not very different tasks).
 no one is sitting directly opposite you and facing you.
 you can face in different directions at different times.
 you can see at least 2 other people, but not more than 4.
 you have at least one co-worker within talking distance.
 to make the space more attractive, incorporate Windows Overlooking Life, a Half-Open Wall, Thick Walls, Open Shelves, Pools of Light (over the workspace), and a nearby Sitting Circle.

The more elements you checked off, the more inviting your office should feel. Most of us can't change much about the design of our offices, but these criteria at least furnish a few ideas.