I’m doing pretty well with the week of Extreme Nice. Yesterday, I hardly saw the Big Man, but I did do good deeds on his behalf. My main goal for today is to mail a big box for him. What a pain.

Now, although it might seem that the Big Man is the sole beneficiary of the week of Extreme Nice, I get a huge benefit as well.

One of the most helpful things I’ve learned in my happiness research is that although we think that we act because of the way we feel, in fact, we often feel because of the way we act.

As a result, one of my Twelve Commandments is “Act as I would feel.” And as improbable as it may sound, it really works. Try it. If you don’t like the way you’re feeling, act as you’d like to feel—and your feelings will change. Like magic.

William James sums up the phenomenon nicely: “Action seems to follow feeling, but really action and feeling go together; and by regulating the action, which is under the more direct control of the will, we can indirectly regulate the feeling, which is not.”

So while you might expect that lavishing Extreme Niceness on the Big Man might make me feel resentful or smug, in fact, by being extremely nice, by acting very loving, I boost my feelings of love and tenderness.

For example, today, on my way to a meeting near Grand Central, I happened to walk by the Big Man’s office building. So, as I’d done once before, I called him and told him to look out his window at the steps of St. Bartholomew’s Church. I stood on the steps and waved up to him on the 18th floor. I felt quite self-conscious, waving up at a skyscraper as pedestrians gave me curious looks—but of course in New York City, I’d have to do something far quirkier than that to make anyone stare.

I’m sure the Big Man thought it was nice of me to wave to him, but he probably didn’t think about it for more than a minute or so. But taking the time to make that silly, affectionate gesture filled me with good feelings that have persisted for hours.
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Two resolutions from June, the month of “Eat a peach,” are to push myself and fight my limitations. And a key way I want to push myself is to write more journalistic pieces.

For some reason, I have a real antipathy for this kind of work. Why? Partly because I hate deadlines—not because I have trouble meeting deadlines, but because I have trouble doing anything except working until I’ve completed my task. I was one of those very annoying people in college and law school who finished their papers days early; I hate the panicky feeling of running out of time. Any deadline that’s closer than three months away makes me feel hugely pressured.

Also, with that kind of writing, I feel very susceptible to attack. I imagine hordes of angry readers criticizing me, and I’m filled with anticipatory dread and defensiveness. Why? Despite my reluctance, I have written lots of journalistic pieces, and have never met with a tidal wave of disapproval. So I don’t know why I’m so bothered by that feeling.

I think the best way to overcome this feeling is to push through it. I imagine that if I did lots more journalism, my dread would dissipate.

So I’m very happy with myself that I did write a piece for the Wall Street Journal Online yesterday. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at it online until this morning, but nothing dire has happened, so I’ve relaxed a bit.

I wrote about a topic that fascinates me: the relationship between money and happiness: Money Can’t Buy Happiness? This Blogger Begs to Differ. (It may be available to subscribers only.) As I wrote in that piece, and as I’ve written in this blog, I believe that money, spent wisely, absolutely can help people achieve happiness.

Pushing myself to write that piece reminded me of a strange wrinkle in the pursuit of happiness—an effect that I think happiness researchers may be overlooking in their studies. And that’s the fact that happiness doesn’t always make you happy.

For example, one research tool to measure quality of daily life is the Day Reconstruction Method, which asks people to record the previous day’s activities and to describe their feelings about them.

But I’ve noticed that, paradoxical as it seems, happiness often makes me unhappy. I do things that make me “happy” or satisfied or fulfilled in a very deep sense, but that cause me to feel a lot of unhappiness or uneasiness or annoyance on the surface. If someone with a clipboard asked, “Are you happy?” I would say no. And yet I am happy, too.

Giving a speech. Getting a colonoscopy. Caring for a fretful, sick child. Spending time with a parent with Alzheimer’s. Taking the Series 7 exam. Are you happy doing these things—before, during, or after? Perhaps you feel relief when the chore is over. Or you feel the warm glow of having done your duty. Or maybe you shove the whole experience out of your mind as soon as possible. Is that “happiness”?

I think that it is happiness—but perhaps not the kind of happiness that shows up in the Day Reconstruction Method.

Every Wednesday is Tip Day.
This Wednesday…Tips on how to be happy—from the year 1625.

Below are selected suggestions put forth by British philosopher, essayist, and statesman Francis Bacon in his essay, “Of Regiment of Health”:

It is a safer conclusion to say, This agreeth not well with me, therefore I will not continue it, than this, I find no offence of this, therefore I may use it.

Discern of the coming on of years, and think not to do the same things still.

Beware of sudden change in any great point of diet, and if necessity enforce it, fit the rest to it. For it is a secret, both in nature and state, that it is safer to change many things than one. [I found this observation particularly intriguing.]

Examine thy customs of diet, sleep, exercise, apparel and the like, and try in anything thou shalt judge hurtful, to discontinue it little by little; but so as if thou dost find any inconvenience by the change, thou come back to it again: for it is hard to distinguish that which is generally held good and wholesome from that which is good particularly and fit for thine own body.

To be free-minded and cheerfully disposed at hours of meat and of sleep and of exercise, is one of the best precepts of long lasting.

Avoid envy, anxious fears, anger fretting inwards, subtle and knotty inquisitions, joys and exhilarations in excess, sadness not communicated.

Entertain hopes, mirth rather than joy, variety of delights rather than surfeit of them, wonder and admiration (and therefore novelties), studies that fill the mind with splendid and illustrious objects (as histories, fables, and contemplations of nature).

Despise no new accident [unexpected change] in your body, but ask opinion of it.

In sickness, respect health principally; and in health, action.

This morning I had a good opportunity to put my happiness-project principles to work.

I need a visa for a trip to India next month, so I went to the Indian Consulate with my paperwork. I took my number and sat down to wait my turn. I’d forgotten to bring much to read—in violation of one of Life’s True Rules: “Always have plenty to read”—so I had little to occupy my attention.

My first impulse was to figure out every single way in which time was being wasted. Why wasn’t a person working the line, to help people figure out if their paperwork was ready for processing? If that woman knew her number was 78, why was she still sitting far across the room as Mr. 77 was finishing up? And why did so many people leave the things they needed—their passports, their money, their photos—at the bottom of their purses and knapsacks, instead of having everything organized and ready to go?

I indulged in these kinds of thoughts for a few minutes, then realized what I was doing. One of my resolutions is to “find an area of refuge” in my mind; that is, to dwell on serene thoughts instead of brooding and fussing.

So I dragged my mind out of irritation, and tried to follow another resolution: “turn complaints into gratitude.” So I thought about how grateful I was: that the room had chairs, so I didn’t have to stand; that the Internet had allowed me to download the forms I needed in a flash; that the line was moving fast; that the Indian Consulate was so convenient to my apartment, just a nice walk; that I could pick up my visa in as little as an hour, if I wanted to wait.

Instead of picking apart the system, I just enjoyed the little mini-dramas of the room. I eavesdropped on two women who were going on exotic trips. I watched a couple fussing over their baby. I had a nice conversation with the woman sitting next to me, who told me all about my destination of Udaipur (and also told me how to pronounce it correctly).

Could I have kept up this attitude for two hours? I doubt it. But it made my forty-five minute wait much more pleasant.

Today is our wedding anniversary. Although the Big Man and I don’t exchange gifts, in honor of the occasion, I decided to give him a secret treat: a week of Extreme Nice.

My last week of Extreme Nice was back in February, as part of the month of “Sing in the morning,” which focused on marriage and parenthood. I didn’t tell the Big Man he was getting the Extreme-Nice treatment, and I don’t think he realized it—except probably to be pleasantly surprised or relieved at several points.

What is “Extreme Nice”? It’s an extreme sport like bungee jumping or skydiving—pushing the envelope, exerting myself beyond my ordinary efforts, finding new depths in myself to meet the hardest challenges. And I can do it in my own home.

So this week I intend to be utterly nice to the Big Man. No criticism. No pestering. No bickering. Jumping up to do whatever he asks me to do, responding enthusiastically to his every suggestion.

Extreme Nice was a great exercise when I did it in February. It’s not sustainable for the long term, but by doing it for one week, I reminded myself of a different standard of behavior. I want to maintain very high expectations for myself—it’s not right that I should take more care with my friends or my parents than with the Big Man, love of my life.

We wouldn’t be able to live together forever without a disagreement, but I should be able to go more than a week without nagging.

So here goes: Day One of Extreme Nice.
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If you’re looking for suggestions on how to be a better (or at least a more efficient) parent, a great source for a lot of practical yet good-humored advice is Parent Hacks.