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.

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.

Well, for no good reason, I just didn’t feel very happy today. I woke up with an edge of crabbiness that didn’t lift.

As I progressed through the morning, I felt overwhelmed with a bunch of small but important but non-work-related tasks. So I felt restless and couldn’t settle down. When I was working on my book, I was distracted by all the other things I needed to do. When I was trying to tackle some of those tasks, I felt guilty about not working on my book. And the Big Man has seemed distant and irritable for the last few days, which made me feel irritable, too.

I kept getting thwarted. I couldn’t get answers to my questions on the phone; no one was returning emails; then my email got screwed up.

Another factor in my mood is that in ten days, I’m going out of town for two weeks. That’s a long time to be away, and I’m daunted by the prospect of getting packed and setting up everything to run smoothly while I’m away. Plus it makes me feel sad, and almost panicky, to think about being away from the Big Girl and the Little Girl for such a long time.

Once I noticed that I was officially in a Bad Mood—at about 10:30 a.m.—I started to apply all my research to try to turn the day around.

It’s now 6:00 p.m. During the course of the day, I exercised. I answered the phone with a cheerful voice. I made entries in my three-blessings journal and my one-sentence journal. I acted as happy as I could. I went to a meeting early to have a chance to catch up with people beforehand (but I had to cut out early, which made me feel bad.) I walked out of my way to go to a diner where I could sit outside and work in the sunshine. I let the Big Man work through his mood instead of pestering him about it, which makes me feel better but annoys him. I called my sister. I went through a bunch of unanswered emails. I took the time to chase the Little Girl around the apartment, to hear her shriek with laughter. I crossed two major nagging tasks off my to-do list (I’d been procrastinating for months; it took me a total of 24 minutes to get them done.) I made a home schedule and a packing list for my trip, and reminded myself that two weeks isn’t a horribly long time. Most important, I made sure that I did two solid hours of real writing—that’s not much, but I was so distracted this morning, I was on track to get nothing done at all.

I can’t say that I’m ending the day in an ebullient mood, but taking all these steps did make me feel a lot better.

*
I just discovered a great blog, Antique Mommy, about the adventures of a woman who had a baby in her forties. Very funny on parenting issues. The site gives me a weird feeling, however, because Antique Mommy and I use variations of the same Typepad design. Reading her blog is like getting a letter in the mail from a stranger–a letter written in my handwriting.

One of my Happiness-Project resolutions is to “Sound happy.”

In particular, I’m trying to sound happier when I answer the phone. I’ve gotten in the bad habit of grunting an indistinct “Hello,” without even taking my eyes off the computer screen, quite rude.

So these days, I’m working to put a pleased tone in my voice—especially when I see the Big Man’s name flash on the phone display. I always actually do get a flash of happiness when I see his name, and I’m trying to let that show.

Why does it matter how I answer the phone? First of all, I know I should “act as I want to feel”; by sounding happy and friendly, I’m more likely to feel happy and friendly.

Also, as Daniel Goleman points out in his book Emotional Intelligence, emotions are highly contagious. Studies show that we unconsciously imitate emotions we see others display, and so people spread their moods to others—whether good moods or bad moods.

So answering the phone with a “I’m happy to talk to you!” voice instead of a “You’re interrupting me!” voice gives other people a boost.

Now, why is this so hard to do, when it’s really just plain good manners? It really takes a lot of effort. But I’m trying: I know that pumping up the enthusiasm in my voice will make me feel happier (because the way we act affects the way we feel) and will make other people feel happier too (because of emotional contagion).

“Is life so wretched? Isn’t it rather your hands which are too small, your vision which is muddied? You are the one who must grow up.” –Dag Hammarskjöld