Happiness is...

What would the opposite of an evil twin be? An angelic double?
Whatever you call it, I believe I have found the parallel universe version of myself on the Internet. Her name is Gretchen Rubin, creator of The Happiness Project. She's embarked on a journey very similar to my own: Try out everything you can for a year to improve your happiness. And of course, since this is the parallel universe, she's doing a good job and having great success.
I found out about The Happiness Project from a friend named Barb, who mentioned it as we huffed and puffed our bicycles over the hills around Lake Olathe (I saw two blue herons on this trip. But I'm sure it means nothing.)
So I went right home and looked up her blog. Then I looked at her picture and clicked "about." Whoa!
Not only is she beautiful, but, "At Yale Law School I was editor-in-chief of the Yale Law Journal and won a writing prize. I went on to clerk for Justice Sandra Day O'Connor on the U.S. Supreme Court."

Help me. Can't. Breathe. Fighting back extreme urge for snarkiness.
There's more.
"I had a great experience in law, but I realized that what I really wanted to do was to write. Since making the switch, I’ve published four books. I’m currently working on The Happiness Project. It will hit the shelves in January 2010 (Harper)."

Oh, and she's from Kansas City. Didn't I tell you it was a parallel universe?

Okay. Someone who was editor of the Yale Law Journal and clerked for the first female member of the Supreme Court, someone who is good-looking enough she doesn't have to use a bug for an avatar--that person is as entitled to search for happiness as anyone, I guess, though it doesn't sound like much of a search. I mean, where's the struggle? But never mind. Anyone that successful probably has something worth checking out. So, jealousy aside, I decided to see what she advises.

The first of her "Twelve Commandments," is to "Be Gretchen." In other words, let go of the useless striving to be the person you wish you were and just embrace your own likes and dislikes. As an example, she says, she will never be a person who hangs out in artists' studios or visits jazz clubs after midnight. And she will try to get over not being that kind of person.
That sounds reasonable. I don't have strong feelings for the NFL. Once in a while, I envy people who enjoy Super Bowl parties and talk for hours the next day. But it never makes me wish to change myself into a face-painting cheese-hat-wearing fan.
What about the things I do want to change, though? For instance, I would like to be more optimistic. Really. But the more I study it, the more I see what a huge personality change it's going to take. In fact, the more I study it, the more impossible it looks. Does that mean I should give it up and just embrace the fact that I am a cynical outcast who can never change?
Or--here's a horrifying thought--maybe being unhappy is what makes me happiest. Maybe I'm such a sick, sick puppy that only my despondency keeps me afloat. Does that thought make me happy, or unhappy?

I've wandered too close to the trippy edge here. I think I'll make my way back with a funny movie. I wonder if our Horsefeathers VHS tape is still playable.
Here's a clip. If you want to go straight to "Whatever it is, I'm against it," it's at about 4 minutes.

The Republic of Happy

Turns out one of the side effects of more optimism is less desire and time to post blogs on optimism. This week, anyway, I haven't felt the need to obsess on it quite as much.
Wednesday, I wrote about the positive things happening in our lives--the book, the increase in student referrals. So there's that, taking some formerly free time.
Then, as Mike's new paycheck becomes stabilized (we had to do some adjusting for taxes) and as we negotiate with the banks on our college loan payments, it's beginning to look like we won't go down the tubes right away, at least. A year from now, things might be different. But at least temporarily, we can pay our electricity, mortgage and heat and still have some left over for groceries. Scary though it may be, it looks like we can put that worry aside for now and concentrate on improving our income outlook for when those loan forbearances expire.
The end result: I haven't been as focused on seeking out optimism this week. As a result, I find I've missed a potentially good TV special about optimism and Michael J. Fox.
Fox, whom everyone surely knows has had Parkinson's Disease for about 20 years, hosted a show called Adventures of an Incurable Optimist on ABC. And no, it wasn't just another maudlin show about beating the odds on the disease. It was something deeper. Fox interviewed people--sick and well, celebrities and ordinary, American and from other countries--about the nature of optimism.
At least I think that's what was on it. That's what the various Internet reports said. I don't watch much network TV, so missed any promos mentioning it. At this point, I haven't been able to find a scheduled repeat or any sign of it on Hulu or YouTube.
It sounded interesting, though. If it clued me in on ways to be more reliably happy, I'd watch it with the recorder on and notebook in hand. Fox also has a book Always Looking Up, on the same theme, which I hadn't heard of. It will be a while before I can review it here, though, because I'm 154th in the library's queue (we're on a budget, remember?).
One interesting thing I picked up from reading the online accounts: The Himalayan country of Bhutan has an state policy on happiness. In every decision, the government of Bhutan must consider whether it's action will promote the happiness of its people. So if traffic lights, for example, frustrate the populace, the government goes back to a human traffic cop instead. (BBC slide show report here)
Here's the interesting, yet ironic thing. Bhutan only allowed television and the Internet into the country in 1999. Apparently, it's rulers felt these media were not sufficiently happiness-inducing.
Can't say that I disagree. But it means they would have missed Fox's special on optimism.
I don't know how Bhutan arrives at it's views on what is or isn't happiness inspiring. I suppose it helps if you have a monarchy. It's been 10 years now. I'd like to know how access to reality television and the blogosphere have impacted the "Gross Domestic Happiness."
Ooh. I feel a grant proposal coming on.

The Destroyer Reveals His Form

Laughing yoga takes on a whole different feel when you have just learned your income is going down by 33 percent.
Yes. 33 percent. The Destroyer has come.
Actually, the day got off to a pretty good start. I did the bills and we ended up a little better than usual. That plus the fact that we're making a dent in the credit card (which was driven up last year by--believe it or not--our late dog's medical care) put me in a more hopeful, less scared mood.
It was when I was driving to the grocery store that I got the call. Mike's employer, the Kansas City Star, wanted him to come in.
This could not be good. I had to turn around and bring the car back (we have one car) so he could go downtown. When we met at the house, we resumed our traditional roles of optimist (Mike) and pessimist (me.)
Me: Oh God. You're still don't think you'll be laid off?
Him: No. I think they like me. I bring in readers. It's probably about the pay cut. Maybe they're rearranging and I'll have to work more from downtown.
Let me insert here that we'd gotten an official email warning us that people below a certain pay level would get a 5 percent pay cut. Others might get more. We fit easily below the 5 percent line.
Me: You sure we can handle the pay cut? What if it's more? What if the email was a complete lie?
Him: I'm below the limit.
Me: If they make you work downtown how will you get there? We'd probably have to put up for a second car. Or I'll be stuck here with no car. (Trust me to always think of myself.)
Him: Let's not get three steps ahead. It will be okay.

Later he called back with the grim news. A pay cut of 33 percent. Full time to part time. No more life insurance benefit. No more vacation days. Accept it or take a buyout. But if you accept, there may not be another chance for a buyout. No promises. You have until Wednesday to decide.

Now, I was all prepared to be stoic about a 5 percent pay cut. I wasn't happy to lose the equivalent of two years, but I figured with some more piano students and perhaps monetization of this blog, maybe we could swing it temporarily. But 33 percent. Holy @*&# shit! Nothing in the email said anyone would get a 33 percent pay cut or that anyone would be knocked back from full to part time. And there's no way--no possible way--that my piano teaching can make up even half of what we're losing. Forget the two-year setback. Hello 1997.

And so, only 20 short minutes after pressing a cold cloth to my swollen eyes, I found myself driving my daughter and her friend to laughing yoga. I had promised.
It wasn't so hard to fake laughter. I'll probably be doing a lot of that in the future, so I guess it doesn't hurt to practice now. But...I don't know. It was different. I felt good afterwards, like before. Just not content. Not at peace. Not connected to the resonant good vibe of the past sessions. Maybe it's the shock.

Yesterday I vowed we are going to live not just good but better. We are not going to be just happy but happier.

Today that seems like a pretty tall order.

Manifesto

Yesterday was not a good day for me. I woke up exhausted after an endless dream about being trapped by a maniac killer. It was one of those nights when you wake up every 40 minutes or so, look at the clock and think, "2:30?! How can it only be 2:30? I've been dreaming this same dream for hours."
Then I looked at that damn New York Times again and--this is getting to be a recurring theme--I was completely drawn in by a story about laid-off families losing their homes and having to move in six to a motel room to get by. (Here's a link) These were formerly middle class families just like us who lost all income, were foreclosed or evicted and didn't have a good enough credit record to get an apartment. Now they're stuck because the high cost of the motel eats up every cent they have.
It wasn't so much the story, although that was bad enough. It was the picture. A girl about my daughter's age is lying on a motel bed crowded with the family's stuff, staring dejectedly into space. I just couldn't take my eyes off that picture. Even now, I can feel the tears forming behind my eyes when I think about it.
It didn't get any better as the day wore on. Later I was informed of a local blogger who ranted at length about how Mike should be fired from the Star, and how he links to the Star's reportage and cackles with glee at the paper's financial troubles.
And then, in the evening, we had to lend comfort to a family member with a career setback.
So I thought of writing yesterday, but I just didn't have it in me. I didn't have what it takes to put everything at arm's length and be humorous. Announcements are coming, maybe soon, about the layoffs and cutbacks. In the meantime, the whole notion of converting myself to an optimist seems ludicrous, impossible.
Today, though, is another day, and even though I don't feel like it, I am committed to not being a pessimist. So today seems like a good time to return to more serious fare.
Here's a site that gives a five-step approach to my problem. A, name the adversity. B, name the belief about the adversity that troubles you. C, name the consequence. D, dispute the negative belief and think of a more positive one. E, energize yourself with the more positive thought.
So okay.
Adversity--We don't know, but we strongly suspect we may soon be earning far less money than our budget calls for.
Belief--We'll be homeless and our kids will have no future. We'll be stuck at lower pay for years to come as inflation eats it all away. A serious illness will bankrupt us. Our daughter won't go to college. Our hardship will be mocked by obnoxious types who believe we deserve it because we are of inferior stock. Do I really need to go on?
Consequence--Wait. Haven't I just been going on about the consequence? I could add that as a result, the only thing my children will remember about me was that I was permanently depressed and never had any fun.
Dispute--Well, maybe by eliminating our 401k contribution, we'll survive without being tossed into the street. But the threat of inflation, medical bankruptcy, no college all seem real and reasonable enough. And the mocking. It's not hard to find people out there already with the mocking.
Even with the rosier picture (no layoff, pay cut dealt with) the Consequence seems all too possible. I truly could be remembered by my family as always depressed and never any fun because no matter how it all comes out, I'll never feel safe and secure again. And I don't want to be that.
So Energize--I can't think of anything here except that I'll have to try extra hard to not be always depressed. I thought that was the whole point of this little exercise. If I followed the steps, I'd feel better. Instead, it seems to be saying to me: Just try not to be depressed.

This doesn't seem to be helping.
So I'm going to abandon it and just distract myself, which seems always to work best.
Let's see.
Tomorrow begins spring break for my daughter. No more getting up at 6 a.m. for a whole week! I can get behind that thought.
Spring...I saw a forsythia almost in bloom today. It's cold now, but it is supposed to be warming up later in the week. So yay for that. That means our utilities will go down (at least they will if the state doesn't grant the huge rate increase they've asked for). And maybe I'll be able to plant some early garden during the break.
I'm one week closer to having the credit card paid off.
The Wizards season opens in just a week. And the tickets are paid up.
One more row and I will have the afghan done that I've been working since Christmas.
My daughter had a friend over for a couple of days this week while her parents were out of town. That made it necessary for them to practice together. So for one pleasant evening, I got to hear the violin/cello version of some of their orchestra pieces, plus some scales. And really, they can't take that away from me. We own the cello, the piano and the ability to make music, and those bastards whoever they are, who have done this to the economy cannot take that back.
Okay. Yeah, that does make me feel better, tedious though it may be to anyone reading it. And you know what? I do feel energized. In fact I feel energized in an angry sort of way. Who are these people, trading stocks and derivatives, who would take my fun away? Well, they don't get to.
Manifesto: I resolve that no matter what happens, we will not just have fun. We will have more fun. We will not just get by, we will live well. I will become completely and selfishly a fun seeker. And I will apologize to no one about putting our family's happiness first.