There is an exquisite kind of intellectual happiness that comes from understanding the world better. This can arise from something as small as a single fact, a quotation, or even a new word.

Recently I came across a word that answered a question that has puzzled me for a long time, ever since I started my book Power Money Fame Sex: Why are people so eager merely to come into the presence of a famous person?

Most days I work for a while in a pizza shop, Pisa Pizza, on 83rd and 3rd. The décor is dominated by two poster-size photographs, at least fifteen years old, of the shop owner standing beside John Travolta, who apparently wandered into Pisa Pizza one day.

I’ve never understood it – what’s the big deal? Exactly what do people feel that they’re gaining from these glancing interactions? Why are they so excited to see John Travolta?

Answer: darshan.

Darshan is a Sanskrit Hindu term meaning “sight” or “auspicious viewing.” Darshan is the beneficial glow that comes from being in the presence of a great spiritual leader (or holy place or object). Merely looking at such a person – and even better, receiving his or her glance – bestows a blessing.

In Vikram Chandra’s fantastic novel set in India, Sacred Games, I noticed, people also sought darshan of a rich and famous mobster.

So when people crowd into a store because Jennifer Aniston is inside, or follow Woody Allen down the street for blocks, or stand outside in the freezing cold to see Barack Obama speak instead of watching him on TV, it’s because they want darshan.

I myself don’t have much feeling for darshan, but it’s obvious how eagerly many people seek it out.

For instance, I clerked for Justice Sandra Day O’Connor, and I can testify that people get a mighty darshan from a Supreme Court Justice.

Justices are treated with great deference and respect, but by contrast, TV and movie stars – especially those considered very friendly and accessible – sometimes seem overwhelmed by people’s desire for darshan.

I was particularly interested to learn that with darshan, eye contact with the revered person conveys particular grace. It absolutely seems true that a mere eye-lock can bring about some kind of transfer of power.

If you’re a saint or guru, you aren’t depleted by the act of making eye contact. But this transfer may explain why powerful or famous people sometimes insist that others not make eye contact with them – a demand that always struck me as particularly bizarre and puzzling. People seeking darshan drain them of their energy.

Just a few months ago, Page Six (a renowned New York City gossip column) reported that “Victoria Beckham styled Katie Holmes for an upcoming Harper’s Bazaar cover, and during the 300-plus person shoot in Los Angeles, the production team was told not to look either of them in the eye.”

When I read that item, I wondered, “What’s that about?” Now I know. Darshan. It feels good to have that figured out.

Every Wednesday is Tip Day.
This Wednesday: Tips for phrases you should NOT allow yourself to say to your spouse or sweetheart.

Research shows that the quality of a couple’s friendship plays a huge role in their happiness with their marriage’s romance and passion.

Kindness and helpfulness may not sound like particularly sexy qualities, but turns out – they are. A recent New Yorker cartoon summed this up perfectly. A guy in an SUV is talking into his cell phone: “Hey, baby, I just dropped the kids off at school, and now I’m going to the grocery store, and then I’m going home and unloading the car – am I making you hot?”

I’m working hard to nag less, to say “Thanks” more often, to be more light-hearted, and to stop slinking away when I see the Big Man doing a chore.

I’m also trying to “fight right” – to use gentle words, keep a sense of humor, and let the sun go down on my anger.

Here are some phrases I’ve eliminated (I hope) from my conversation. I’ve learned that you just can’t say such things if you’re trying to fight right:

Don’t start.
What’s that supposed to mean?
Haven’t we already had this conversation?
Can’t we talk about this later?
Never mind (sigh), it’s not important.
You always do that.
For once, could you XXX without making a big deal about it?
Enough already.
Can’t we just go?
My personal favorite: Can I tell you one thing? (The Big Man has learned to answer “No!”).

Here’s a truly horrible phrase that I actually did say once, and I writhe with shame every time I remember it: “No backtalk.” Aaaaack! Can you imagine?

Last year, by accident, through a conversation with the Big Girl, I discovered a useful tool in parenting: imagine an audience.

“What did you do at school today?” I asked the Big Girl.

“Well, we all talked about how our parents wake us up in the morning.”

“What did you say?” I prodded, with curiosity and trepidation.

“With a good-morning song.”

Why she said this, I don’t know, because I’d only done that a few times. After hearing her comment, though, I began singing a good-morning song every day, and “sing in the morning” became my lead happiness-project resolution for the month.

What a nice habit, to wake up your child with a good-morning song!

By the same token, I was dismayed to see that in one of the Big Girl’s essays, she talked about watching TV while she eats breakfast. The fact that I’m embarrassed by this practice means that I should put a stop to it. (Which, by the way, I have not done.) A friend of mine disconnected their cable TV after she found herself lying to her pediatrician about how much TV her children watched.

Just as adults counsel themselves not to do anything that they wouldn’t want reported on the front page of the New York Times, I shouldn’t do anything I wouldn’t want to be featured in an essay displayed on the wall for Parent Night.

One of my resolutions is to “Appreciate the seasons and the time of life.”

So, for example, right now I’m sitting by a big window at Hale and Hearty Soups, where I have a great view of the snow just starting to fall.

I don’t like being cold, so don’t particularly enjoy being outside during the winter, but I do love watching snow fall. It enlivens the most ordinary and familiar scene. And today I’m watching a snow-globe type of snow – big, fluffy flakes blowing in wild patterns and disappearing the instant they hit the ground.

Instead of dimly registering a “How nice, it’s snowing,” and then spending a few idle moments eavesdropping on the teenagers sitting next to me, I’m instead taking that time to enjoy the changing light and wind through the flurry.

Montaigne wrote, “Is there some voluptuous pleasure that tickles me? I do not let my senses pilfer it, I bring my soul into it, not to implicate herself, but to enjoy herself, not to lose herself but to find herself, in it….to weigh and appreciate and amplify the happiness of it.”

This is an easy way to boost my happiness, I’ve found: wring more happiness out of small, ordinary moments. This strategy doesn’t require heroic virtue or even a change in my routine, but only that when I experience a happy moment, I “bring my soul into it” more mindfully.

Turns out that, as happiness resolutions go, enjoying the snow is a lot easier than giving up nagging.

A small daily task, if it be really daily, will beat the labours of a spasmodic Hercules. –Anthony Trollope.