A few days ago, I posted the quiz, Are you an abstainer or a moderator? As one reader pointed out in the comments, the abstainer/moderator split seems related to another tendency, at least in me–that I find it’s easier to do something every day than to do it some days. I post to my blog six days a week. I take reading notes every day. I write in my one-sentence journal every day. Many people have told me that they find it easier to exercise when they exercise every day.

If I try to do something four days a week, I spend a lot of time arguing with myself about whether today is the day, or tomorrow, or the next day; did the week start on Sunday or Monday; do I deserve a break, did yesterday “count,” etc.

True, if you do something every day, you tend to fall into a routine, and routine has a bad reputation. Novelty and challenge bring happiness, and that people who break their routines, try new things, and go new places are happier, but I think that routine activities also bring happiness. The pleasure of doing the same thing, in the same way, every day, shouldn’t be overlooked.

The things you do every day take on a certain beauty, and provide a kind of invisible architecture to daily life.

Funnily enough, two geniuses whom I associate with the idea of the unconventional wrote about the power of doing something every day.

Andy Warhol wrote,

“Either once only, or every day. If you do something once it’s exciting, and if you do it every day it’s exciting. But if you do it, say, twice or just almost every day, it’s not good any more.”

Gertrude Stein made a related point:

“Anything one does every day is important and imposing and anywhere one lives is interesting and beautiful.”

So if there’s something that you wish you did more regularly, try doing it every day; if you do something every day, revel in it.

I’m working on my Happiness Project, and you could have one, too! Everyone’s project will look different, but it’s the rare person who can’t benefit. Join in — no need to catch up, just jump in right now. Each Friday’s post will help you think about your own happiness project.

I’ve been getting a lot of requests for personalized, signed bookplates for Happier at Home and The Happiness Project from people who want to give the books as holiday gifts. This makes me feel 1) stunned by the organization and foresight of such folks, and 2) pleased that people decide to give my books as gifts.

If you are considering buying the books as gifts, and would like to request bookplates to make them more personal, I’m very happy, as always, to mail them to you. However, I have to admit it  I can’t always turn requests around quickly. So, if you possibly can, request now so that neither of us have to worry about the bookplates getting back to you in time for the holidays.

And think how happy you’ll be to cross some gift-buying tasks off your list! Nothing makes me feel happier than getting that perfect gift wrapped and ready, well before I intend to give it. (True, I experience this quite rarely, but it’s delightful when I do.) Books make great gifts; having a book personalized makes it feel more special.

If you’re not sure I’m talking about, check out the photo. This bookplate is a specially designed sticker that I personalize and sign for someone to put in the front of his or her book. Like getting a book signed by the author, only by mail.

Obviously, I’m happy to sign and personalize a bookplate for you–it doesn’t have to be a gift! Request as many as you want. Free, of course.

Email me to tell me how many you’d like, and with what names, and be sure to include your mailing address. These are actual physical objects that I will mail to you.

Every Wednesday is Tip Day,  or Quiz Day.

This Wednesday: Quiz–Are you an abstainer or a moderator?

For the last week and a half, I’ve been traveling on my book tour for Happier at Home. I love getting the chance to talk to so many people about happiness.

When I gave my talks, the issue of abstainers and moderators came up several times, so I thought it might be helpful to post this quiz yet again. Recognizing this distinction has been one of the most important insights that I’ve had into my own nature–more helpful, say, than understanding that I’m an under-buyer, not an over-buyer.

When dealing with temptation, I often see the advice, “Be moderate. Don’t have ice cream every night, but if you try to deny yourself altogether, you’ll fall off the wagon. Allow yourself to have the occasional treat, it will help you stick to your plan.”

I’ve come to believe that this is good advice for some people: the “moderators.” They do better when they avoid absolutes and strict rules.

For a long time, I kept trying this strategy of moderation–and failing. Then I read a line from Samuel Johnson, who said, when someone offered him wine: “Abstinence is as easy to me as temperance would be difficult.”

Ah ha! Like Dr. Johnson, I’m an “abstainer.”

I find it far easier to give something up altogether than to indulge moderately. When I admitted to myself that I was eating my favorite frozen yogurt treat very often–two and even three times a day–I gave it up cold turkey. That was far easier for me to do than to eat it twice a week. If I try to be moderate, I exhaust myself debating, “Today, tomorrow?” “Does this time ‘count’?” “Don’t I deserve this?” etc. If I never do something, it requires no self-control for me; if I do something sometimes, it requires enormous self-control.

There’s no right way or wrong way–it’s just a matter of knowing which strategy works better for you. If moderators try to abstain, they feel trapped and rebellious. If abstainers try to be moderate, they spend a lot of precious energy justifying why they should go ahead and indulge.

In my experience, both moderators and abstainers try hard to convert the other team. A nutritionist once told me, “I tell my clients to follow the 80/20 rule. Be healthy 80% of the time, indulge within reason, 20% of the time.” She wouldn’t consider my point of view–that a 100% rule might be easier for someone like me to follow.

People can be surprisingly judgmental about which approach you take. As an abstainer, I often get disapproving comments like, “It’s not healthy to take such a severe approach” or “It would be better to learn how to manage yourself” or “You should be able to have a brownie.” On the other hand, I want to tell moderators, “You can’t keep cheating and expect to make progress” or “Why don’t you just go cold turkey?” But different approaches work for different people. (Exception: with an actual addiction, like alcohol or cigarettes, people generally accept that abstaining is the only solution.)

You’re a moderator if you…
– find that occasional indulgence heightens your pleasure–and strengthens your resolve
– get panicky at the thought of “never” getting or doing something

You’re an abstainer if you…
– have trouble stopping something once you’ve started
– aren’t tempted by things that you’ve decided are off-limits

So…do you identify as an abstainer or a moderator? Do these categories ring true for you?

Further Secrets of Adulthood:

I have to remind myself of this, constantly. It’s related to the “argument of the growing heap” and the question, “Can one coin make a person rich?

Do you agree? Does what you do every day matter more than what you do once in a while?

Reading about J. K. Rowling’s new book The Casual Vacancy put me in the mood to re-read—for probably the eighth time—Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. Oh, how I love to re-read.

I enjoyed re-reading it tremendously, and I was particularly struck by a passage that I’d never noticed before.

When, after much pride and prejudice, Darcy and Elizabeth agree to be married, Austen writes of the two characters:

“Darcy was not of a disposition in which happiness overflows in mirth; and Elizabeth, agitated and confused, rather knew that she was happy, than felt herself to be so.”

One of my Secrets of Adulthood is: Happiness doesn’t always make me feel happy. Sometimes, I know that I’m happy, but I wouldn’t exactly say that I feel happy.

For instance, many people say that the happiest moments of their lives were when their children were born. I exerienced intense emotion when my daughters were born, but I wouldn’t describe it exactly as happy. And yet, I was happy.

Have you had this experience?