I had minor surgery a couple of days ago and after a day of pretty much sleeping it off, I've been up to my ears in exploration--watching videos on YouTube and reading. Spiritual teacher Caroline Myss has said that when we find what we believe to be a spiritual truth, we should seek to find it elsewhere. She generally has in mind other religious traditions: Myss says key truths of most religions can be found in some manidestation in others, often several others.
My frame of reference for spirituality extends beyond religion, but with that said, I believe that when we find what we believe to be truth anywhere in the world, we will find it multiple places. As those who have been reading recently know, I've just finished my certification as a health coach, and this little post-surgery respite has given me the opportunity to start reading the stack of health-related books that have accumulated by my desk over several years. There's at least 80 per cent congruence (maybe more) between the content in all of them, and yet each brings a different nuance or something new.
What has continued to astound me has been the intersection between health and happiness. It doesn't surprise me at all that we are happier when we are healthier, but it seems to me that the things that we do to be healthier are the same things that we do to be happier. The causality may not be between health and happiness, but rather between a set of behaviors that cause us to be both healthier and happier.
My old friend "laughter" shows up a lot. Today I've been reading Blue Zones--9 Lessons for Living Longer from the people who've lived the longest, by Dan Buettner. The book is based on research he did for National Geographic on regions of the world where a disproportionate percentage of the population lives past 100. There's even a subset of the "blue zones": semi-supercentenarians--referring to regions with a disproportionate percentage of the population over 110. As he did his research, Buettner and his team traveled to often-remote regions to interview those over 100. I was struck by how often the centenarians burst out in laughter.
Laughter is a characteristic of both health and happiness. A couple of years ago when completing my certification to be a laughter yoga teacher, we were given a full page of benefits of laughter, most of them were health enhancements. For instance, one minute of laughter has the aerobic impact of 10 minutes on a rowing machine.
Dr. Martin Seligman, father of positive psychology/psychology of happiness, has said that lack of laughter is a challenge to the happiness of those who live alone because they don't laugh enough.
Spiritually, laughter is often observed in those who are truly "light." If you've ever watched a video or interview of His Holiness the Dalai Lama, you know that he often bursts out in contagious belly laughter.
It has been said that the road to Hell is paved by good intentions. When I set out to live my life with intention and to share my journey with others, it was specifically so that my life's intentions would not be squandered. My intentions are to have a life of health, happiness, and wholeness that will grow me spiritually.
Yet, despite knowing the benefits of laughter to health, happiness, and my spirit and my pathetic moaning and groaning about lack of laughter in my life, at least 18 months after completing my Laughter Yoga certification, I have yet to teach a single class. As I've been leaning into my transition, teaching Laughter Yoga (LY) must be part of my health coaching practice. Laughter is clearly a component of both health and happiness; it would seem it would be neglectful of me to omit it. I've just drug out my LY textbook, and I am throwing it into this soup I am making called "My Life as a Health Coach."
Showing posts with label happiness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label happiness. Show all posts
Saturday, February 25, 2017
Wednesday, February 8, 2017
Relationships
Whatever your belief system, I am fairly confident that I can say, life is not a dress rehearsal. Whether you think that this life is one and done or that you will live many lives, we don't get do-overs for this one. Why, then, I have asked myself in recent years, have I invested so much spiritual energy in earning a living and so little on the things that really matter? I wish I could answer that, but if I had been that conscious, I probably would have been making different decisions.
In the summer of 2015 I completed a Psychology of Happiness certification. The Number One Habit of happy people? Relationships. As I raced through evenings and weekends of studying about happiness after long days of racing from meeting to meeting at work, I lamented the state of my relationships. It is not that my relationships were bad; they were just all arms-length or physically distant.
Fast forward to February 2017, and nothing much has changed. I am once again taking a class in which I am learning about the importance of relationships--this time the value is to my health. Yes, I eat right; superfoods line my pantry and make my refrigerator bulge. I exercise regularly. I meditate. But, even with a decades-old commitment to health, do you think I have done anything about the state of my relationships? Nyet.
I have very dear friends who are scattered all over the globe. I did receive a calendar from a friend in Tokyo. I email another in Greece a few times a month. Skype connects me with one in California a couple times a year, and thankfully I Skype with another a couple times a month. My college roommate and I have been spiritually close since we met, but often go months without talking. Just last evening I dined with four old work pals which get together two or three times a year, and I have dinner with two others from a different job a couple times a year. I see my closest friends two to three times a year. My best friend and I may make it four times a year these days.
I am grateful to have all these people in my life, and, there's nothing like curling up on the couch with a friend, a bowl of popcorn, and a movie, especially if we just decided to get together spontaneously. Best of all for me, is the unplanned drop-in. Someone who knows they will be welcomed and loved anytime they grace my doorstep, and I won't care if I have study materials scattered all over the living room floor from study. Whatever happens it is OK. Unfortunately, I don't have any of those kinds of relationships. In fact, mostly I don't have any relationships that don't have to be scheduled months in advance.
Maybe I delude myself with memories of a different time or a different place, but I recall such relationships...almost every time of my life until the last 15 years. If life is not a dress rehearsal, and I know that relationships are good for both health and happiness, what have I been waiting for? Beats me.
The best news of all is that I am now creating my own life, one day at a time. I am now conscious that if I don't take building relationships seriously, no one else is going to do it for me...and I will probably die with the same weary state of my relationships. A few days ago when I wrote that I was in the best place I've been in for a while, except for a couple things: strengthening relationships was one of them.
I have open invitations for lunch with a new friend and coffee with another. I'm waiting for another friend to recover from surgery to get together. I brunched with another work colleague Sunday, and we committed to seeing each other more often. (She is good about texting, which may be the 21st Century replacement for the drop-in visit. Amazingly, it does feel quite connected.)
I had a friend in my building over for casual soup and cornbread this evening. We met when I first moved to the building. She's always been friendly but passing occasionally in the entry or the grocery store is as far as the friendship developed. We had really never had a conversation until tonight. I feel enriched by the time we spent together.
The college roommate and I committed to walking and talking together or having tea together through the wonders of modern technology that bridge the 500-mile divide between us. I may even schedule a Skype with Tokyo or Greece. I definitely need to get back to North Carolina to see my friend and her two little ones.
In some ways, it feels like this may be the friendship equivalent of throwing spaghetti against the wall to see what sticks, but I have to start somewhere. I care about each of these women, so they seem to be a good start. After all, when I think about what is really important in my life, it is friendships...happy, connected relationships. How can I create my life without them? I feel that 2017 will be the year that is foundational in having a satisfying relationship habit and the happiness that is sure to follow.
In the summer of 2015 I completed a Psychology of Happiness certification. The Number One Habit of happy people? Relationships. As I raced through evenings and weekends of studying about happiness after long days of racing from meeting to meeting at work, I lamented the state of my relationships. It is not that my relationships were bad; they were just all arms-length or physically distant.
Fast forward to February 2017, and nothing much has changed. I am once again taking a class in which I am learning about the importance of relationships--this time the value is to my health. Yes, I eat right; superfoods line my pantry and make my refrigerator bulge. I exercise regularly. I meditate. But, even with a decades-old commitment to health, do you think I have done anything about the state of my relationships? Nyet.
I have very dear friends who are scattered all over the globe. I did receive a calendar from a friend in Tokyo. I email another in Greece a few times a month. Skype connects me with one in California a couple times a year, and thankfully I Skype with another a couple times a month. My college roommate and I have been spiritually close since we met, but often go months without talking. Just last evening I dined with four old work pals which get together two or three times a year, and I have dinner with two others from a different job a couple times a year. I see my closest friends two to three times a year. My best friend and I may make it four times a year these days.
I am grateful to have all these people in my life, and, there's nothing like curling up on the couch with a friend, a bowl of popcorn, and a movie, especially if we just decided to get together spontaneously. Best of all for me, is the unplanned drop-in. Someone who knows they will be welcomed and loved anytime they grace my doorstep, and I won't care if I have study materials scattered all over the living room floor from study. Whatever happens it is OK. Unfortunately, I don't have any of those kinds of relationships. In fact, mostly I don't have any relationships that don't have to be scheduled months in advance.
Maybe I delude myself with memories of a different time or a different place, but I recall such relationships...almost every time of my life until the last 15 years. If life is not a dress rehearsal, and I know that relationships are good for both health and happiness, what have I been waiting for? Beats me.
The best news of all is that I am now creating my own life, one day at a time. I am now conscious that if I don't take building relationships seriously, no one else is going to do it for me...and I will probably die with the same weary state of my relationships. A few days ago when I wrote that I was in the best place I've been in for a while, except for a couple things: strengthening relationships was one of them.
I have open invitations for lunch with a new friend and coffee with another. I'm waiting for another friend to recover from surgery to get together. I brunched with another work colleague Sunday, and we committed to seeing each other more often. (She is good about texting, which may be the 21st Century replacement for the drop-in visit. Amazingly, it does feel quite connected.)
I had a friend in my building over for casual soup and cornbread this evening. We met when I first moved to the building. She's always been friendly but passing occasionally in the entry or the grocery store is as far as the friendship developed. We had really never had a conversation until tonight. I feel enriched by the time we spent together.
The college roommate and I committed to walking and talking together or having tea together through the wonders of modern technology that bridge the 500-mile divide between us. I may even schedule a Skype with Tokyo or Greece. I definitely need to get back to North Carolina to see my friend and her two little ones.
In some ways, it feels like this may be the friendship equivalent of throwing spaghetti against the wall to see what sticks, but I have to start somewhere. I care about each of these women, so they seem to be a good start. After all, when I think about what is really important in my life, it is friendships...happy, connected relationships. How can I create my life without them? I feel that 2017 will be the year that is foundational in having a satisfying relationship habit and the happiness that is sure to follow.
Monday, August 17, 2015
Lazy Summer Day
Saturday I had a wonderful lazy afternoon with a dear friend. We lunched ever so slowly on my balcony, enjoying a little prosecco as we looked at some art photos she had developed and talked of both past and anticipated travel adventures. We luxuriated on a comfortably warm, late summer afternoon. We also spoke of challenges and deeper things.
Tonight I shared a bi-weekly call with another friend. For the first bit I was walking as we talked, and then I found a shady park bench and just enjoyed the conversation. We chatted of triumphs, challenges, and, aware of the coming Jewish New Year, of hopes for the year ahead.
One of the Seven Habits of Happiness in the class I just completed is "Relationships." The first habit we explored in the class, it is the one in which I feel the greatest void. I've truly pondered how I can fix that situation, but I can't resurrect family members that are no longer with us. When I've moved, although friends have said they would come and visit, each time only one has actually done that--one time. One of the prices I've paid for needing to start over again later in life by moving to a new city is that at a certain stage in life my contemporaries are solidly in long-term relationships. I have a few friends who are there occasionally, but the truth is that they are infrequent relationships.
These were the first times since my class that I spent time with friends. With each, I really savored our time together. While I often rush from one event in my life to another without really enjoying any of it, in these times I was present, totally in the moment, mindful, and grateful--all habits of happiness.
As a definite introvert, I more often than not go through life happily alone, but my class and time on Saturday heightened my awareness of how relationships enrich my life, so instead of slipping into church, participating in worship, and quietly slipping out the side door as I usually do, yesterday I made a point to introduce myself to a couple I hadn't seen or talked to before. Today, I went out of my way to talk with someone in my office that I usually just greet in passing.
I believe that my happiness boils down to holding myself accountable. Taking a class won't do it unless I act on what I have learned, and this week I've really learned how important relationships are. I am holding myself accountable for creating more of them.
Tonight I shared a bi-weekly call with another friend. For the first bit I was walking as we talked, and then I found a shady park bench and just enjoyed the conversation. We chatted of triumphs, challenges, and, aware of the coming Jewish New Year, of hopes for the year ahead.
One of the Seven Habits of Happiness in the class I just completed is "Relationships." The first habit we explored in the class, it is the one in which I feel the greatest void. I've truly pondered how I can fix that situation, but I can't resurrect family members that are no longer with us. When I've moved, although friends have said they would come and visit, each time only one has actually done that--one time. One of the prices I've paid for needing to start over again later in life by moving to a new city is that at a certain stage in life my contemporaries are solidly in long-term relationships. I have a few friends who are there occasionally, but the truth is that they are infrequent relationships.
These were the first times since my class that I spent time with friends. With each, I really savored our time together. While I often rush from one event in my life to another without really enjoying any of it, in these times I was present, totally in the moment, mindful, and grateful--all habits of happiness.
As a definite introvert, I more often than not go through life happily alone, but my class and time on Saturday heightened my awareness of how relationships enrich my life, so instead of slipping into church, participating in worship, and quietly slipping out the side door as I usually do, yesterday I made a point to introduce myself to a couple I hadn't seen or talked to before. Today, I went out of my way to talk with someone in my office that I usually just greet in passing.
I believe that my happiness boils down to holding myself accountable. Taking a class won't do it unless I act on what I have learned, and this week I've really learned how important relationships are. I am holding myself accountable for creating more of them.
Saturday, July 18, 2015
The First Day of Class
As a youngster, I always looked forward to the start of school, and my first encounter with insomnia came the night before the first day of school. I'd be so excited that I couldn't possibly go to sleep. Not much has changed for me. Today was the first day of my Psychology of Happiness class. While I did sleep last night, I was just as excited. My passion for learning sparked yet again. Up earlier than usual this morning, I completed my chores had been completed 90 minutes before the start of class. I was eager and waiting.
There are so many ways that I am grateful for this class, and I'm particularly happy that I delayed my March start of this class until this group. As we did our class introductions, almost ever one of us spoke of "resilience" as the trait that we are most proud of, and all of us shared that we'd had to overcome major, multiple, and even recurring challenges in life. About two-thirds of the way through introductions, one of my new classmates said we must all be related--from the same family. We are certainly kindred spirits, who seemed to bond almost immediately.
Like many first classes, this one started with a high-level overview, and we will drill down into each topic as the course proceeds. For this class, the overview revealed "Seven Habits of Happiness":
There are so many ways that I am grateful for this class, and I'm particularly happy that I delayed my March start of this class until this group. As we did our class introductions, almost ever one of us spoke of "resilience" as the trait that we are most proud of, and all of us shared that we'd had to overcome major, multiple, and even recurring challenges in life. About two-thirds of the way through introductions, one of my new classmates said we must all be related--from the same family. We are certainly kindred spirits, who seemed to bond almost immediately.
Like many first classes, this one started with a high-level overview, and we will drill down into each topic as the course proceeds. For this class, the overview revealed "Seven Habits of Happiness":
- Quality relationships
- Caring & acts of kindness
- Physical health
- Flow
- Character strengths & virtues
- Spiritual engagement
- Positive Mindset
Even though this was the survey class, I immediately recognized how these seven topics and the characteristics within each splendidly tied together many aspects of life with which I've struggled. We were asked to pick one of these to focus on for the duration of the class. Intuitively, I knew "physical health" was the one for me. As frequent readers will recall, I've struggled with allowing work to squeeze exercise out of my daily routine, and I've wrestled with my sugar addiction. My desire to be present significantly impacts several aspects of my health. Doing my physical therapy exercises daily greatly influences the level of pain with which I live.
As my day began to wind down, I reflected on this list of happiness habits, and I thought about how powerful my intention is when I really put my mind to something, most certainly the foundation of my resilience. I knew specific things that I want to do for each of the areas, except "Flow."
I know "flow" well: it is that state in which we are having so much joy with what we are doing that we lose track of time and consciousness. It requires a high skill level and equally high challenge. Flow requires that we really care about what we are doing. The possibility to "win" must be present.
The place in my life in which I am most predictably in "flow" is when I write. When writing Leading from the Heart, I would often find that it was getting dark outside on long summer days when I began to get tired, the first experience I'd had of being conscious since sitting down to write, maybe 8 to 10 hours earlier. I wouldn't eat, drink, or go to the bathroom, not due to deprivation, but because I was really out of my body and unable to experience the signs of bodily needs.
Similarly, I recall one day when writing The Game Called Life, a book that I finished in five days, I actually wrote 32 pages in one day. With my conscious logical mind, I have absolutely no concept how I did that, but I truly surrendered to my flow state.
I've experienced flow in other places in my life--when gardening, when dancing, occasionally when cooking, often when coaching, and sometimes when working on designs for my organization development (OD) work. Currently, I am encountering impediments to the flow state in most of these areas of my life. The northern exposure of my balcony garden makes "winning" almost impossible. (My neighbor warned me, but hope springs eternal.) I rarely have a dance partner any more who challenges me. My OD design work is often not challenging, and when it is, there are so many interruptions that getting to that place where I lose consciousness is impossible.
Lest you think this is a lot of grumbling and complaining, it is not. In my heart of hearts, I know that I can experience flow every single day just by choosing it. Every time I write this blog, I fall into a flow state. Yet, with increasing frequency, I have chosen to let the demands of longer and longer days on the job push writing out of my day. A week ago, I had a really good idea for a post and even wrote myself a note so I wouldn't lose the thought. By the time that I found energy to write Thursday evening, I sat staring at the note with no recollection at all of my earlier inspiration.
I have no illusions that taking this class will transform all of my bad habits, or that I will miraculously find the energy and will to write at the end of a 12-hour day. However, there is one thing about intention about which I have become very clear: it is like target practice. If I miss the bulls-eye, I aim again and give it another shot. Over time, I become more and more consistent at reaching my intention. There are aspects of my life that 30 years ago I would have been shocked to learn that I now do quite consistently. My hope is that looking back to 2015 in another 25 or 30 years, I will see that the things with which I struggle today have become happy habits in my life.
Sunday, June 28, 2015
I Can Choose
Day Two of my personal introspection retreat came at the end of a tough night. I had a very hard time falling asleep, and then I tossed and turned for what seemed like most of the night. Drifting in and out of consciousness, peppered with several bathroom stops, I struggled. Lying on the cusp between consciousness and sleep was a big rock I'd turned over during Day One: happiness. (For more on big rocks, see yesterday's post.)
In the stack of books on my nightstand for months (maybe years) has been Authentic Happiness by Martin E. P. Seligman, Ph.D. When I finished two others from the stack yesterday, Authentic Happiness awaited me. Instinctively, I knew that this was a big rock. I knew this, in part, because I'd read the book before. I also knew it because I've known I wasn't really happy for a long time.
For most of the last 35 years, I've thought I was a happy person, despite what the Universe threw on my path, and it has thrown a lot. But, somewhere along the way, something shifted in me. I couldn't say exactly when it happened or why, and while I've certainly had moments of pure bliss (mostly on the dance floor,) happiness has drifted further from my consciousness.
Not long before going to bed last night, I took a short assessment of my happiness at the start of the book. What I learned is not that I am unhappy much: I'm not. Perhaps more distressing to me is that I spend an overwhelming percentage of my time in "neutral"--not happy and not unhappy. The scripture about spewing lukewarm water out of our mouths came to my mind. Neutral? Is that the best I can do? Neutral is certainly the lukewarm water of happiness.
So I slept. More accurately, I tried to sleep. The thought of being neutral passed in and out of my consciousness. Unhappines is unpleasant enough to force action--to make me change something in my life. But neutral isn't uncomfortable enough to motivate movement. I just steep in it.
Well, mostly I steep in it. Over the last 12 to 18 months, I've been increasingly distressed with my work situation. I could say that has been about the people I work with, and to a significant extent that would be true. Yet, in my heart of hearts I have known there was more at work than unpleasant people who intentionally attempt to make my life miserable, which they do.
I've been bored. Is that neutral? I think so. I've had conversations with my boss and with her boss. I have so much more ability and experience. I could be making a much greater contribution. They've pretty much said, "Making a greater contribution not your job here. Do your job."
Last night as I started my reread of Authentic Happiness, I got it. Now, since I know I've read all or at least most of this book before, I must have known what Seligman describes as "the good life," but I certainly couldn't have told you yesterday morning what it was. He describes the good life as "using your signature strengths every day to produce authentic happiness and abundant gratification."
Signature strengths are those things we are good at that are "deeply characteristic of us," and mine are all the things that I am not using at work. My bosses have been kind in telling me what an excellent job I do, and I was recently recognized by a regional professional organization for one effort. But, being "excellent" at what I do is another signature strength: whatever I am given, I choose to do it well.
That a large percentage of my life in neutral is a function of not being able to utilize my signature strengths, or if I do, only for short periods and not as a part of a unified whole piece of work. It should not come as a surprise then that I've been job hunting pretty seriously almost since the earliest of my conversations about my work. Tomorrow I have a job interview. Understanding that using my signature strengths will make it much easier to decide whether this is a job I want.
There's another thing about being on neutral: it seems to have robbed me of my life force. Furthermore, it has robbed me of energy to even exercise my signature strengths when I am not at work. I come home exhausted and drop on the couch, mindlessly watching TV and often falling asleep. Writing is one of my signature strengths, and more often than not for most of a year, I've neglected writing for this blog. For years, I was called "Little Mary Sunshine" by friends and coworkers. Mary hasn't been seen for a long while either. Neutral has pervaded every corner of my life.
More important, though, is the truth that floated in during my first meditation this morning: "I choose." Each of my first two books included significant portions about being of choice, giving credence to the old saw that we write what we need to know. I've chosen to be in a job that doesn't allow me to use my signature strengths for over five years. My choice--a choice driven not by my passions or what will make me happy, but a choice driven by my financial planner. Really? I've let her decision position me for a neutral life.
But there is more to "I choose" than the place I hang my hat for 50-60 hours per week. If I am going to go there and give my life energy to my agency, then I need to choose to be happy about it. The choice about not writing has been mine; I have no one else to blame that on. Life is too short to be on neutral most of the time. It is time for me to own responsibility for my happiness.
I have no idea if I will be offered the job for which I will interview tomorrow, and I have no idea whether I will accept it, if I am. What I do know for certain is that wherever I am, whatever work I choose to do, I will choose to be happy.
In the stack of books on my nightstand for months (maybe years) has been Authentic Happiness by Martin E. P. Seligman, Ph.D. When I finished two others from the stack yesterday, Authentic Happiness awaited me. Instinctively, I knew that this was a big rock. I knew this, in part, because I'd read the book before. I also knew it because I've known I wasn't really happy for a long time.
For most of the last 35 years, I've thought I was a happy person, despite what the Universe threw on my path, and it has thrown a lot. But, somewhere along the way, something shifted in me. I couldn't say exactly when it happened or why, and while I've certainly had moments of pure bliss (mostly on the dance floor,) happiness has drifted further from my consciousness.
Not long before going to bed last night, I took a short assessment of my happiness at the start of the book. What I learned is not that I am unhappy much: I'm not. Perhaps more distressing to me is that I spend an overwhelming percentage of my time in "neutral"--not happy and not unhappy. The scripture about spewing lukewarm water out of our mouths came to my mind. Neutral? Is that the best I can do? Neutral is certainly the lukewarm water of happiness.
So I slept. More accurately, I tried to sleep. The thought of being neutral passed in and out of my consciousness. Unhappines is unpleasant enough to force action--to make me change something in my life. But neutral isn't uncomfortable enough to motivate movement. I just steep in it.
Well, mostly I steep in it. Over the last 12 to 18 months, I've been increasingly distressed with my work situation. I could say that has been about the people I work with, and to a significant extent that would be true. Yet, in my heart of hearts I have known there was more at work than unpleasant people who intentionally attempt to make my life miserable, which they do.
I've been bored. Is that neutral? I think so. I've had conversations with my boss and with her boss. I have so much more ability and experience. I could be making a much greater contribution. They've pretty much said, "Making a greater contribution not your job here. Do your job."
Last night as I started my reread of Authentic Happiness, I got it. Now, since I know I've read all or at least most of this book before, I must have known what Seligman describes as "the good life," but I certainly couldn't have told you yesterday morning what it was. He describes the good life as "using your signature strengths every day to produce authentic happiness and abundant gratification."
Signature strengths are those things we are good at that are "deeply characteristic of us," and mine are all the things that I am not using at work. My bosses have been kind in telling me what an excellent job I do, and I was recently recognized by a regional professional organization for one effort. But, being "excellent" at what I do is another signature strength: whatever I am given, I choose to do it well.
That a large percentage of my life in neutral is a function of not being able to utilize my signature strengths, or if I do, only for short periods and not as a part of a unified whole piece of work. It should not come as a surprise then that I've been job hunting pretty seriously almost since the earliest of my conversations about my work. Tomorrow I have a job interview. Understanding that using my signature strengths will make it much easier to decide whether this is a job I want.
There's another thing about being on neutral: it seems to have robbed me of my life force. Furthermore, it has robbed me of energy to even exercise my signature strengths when I am not at work. I come home exhausted and drop on the couch, mindlessly watching TV and often falling asleep. Writing is one of my signature strengths, and more often than not for most of a year, I've neglected writing for this blog. For years, I was called "Little Mary Sunshine" by friends and coworkers. Mary hasn't been seen for a long while either. Neutral has pervaded every corner of my life.
More important, though, is the truth that floated in during my first meditation this morning: "I choose." Each of my first two books included significant portions about being of choice, giving credence to the old saw that we write what we need to know. I've chosen to be in a job that doesn't allow me to use my signature strengths for over five years. My choice--a choice driven not by my passions or what will make me happy, but a choice driven by my financial planner. Really? I've let her decision position me for a neutral life.
But there is more to "I choose" than the place I hang my hat for 50-60 hours per week. If I am going to go there and give my life energy to my agency, then I need to choose to be happy about it. The choice about not writing has been mine; I have no one else to blame that on. Life is too short to be on neutral most of the time. It is time for me to own responsibility for my happiness.
I have no idea if I will be offered the job for which I will interview tomorrow, and I have no idea whether I will accept it, if I am. What I do know for certain is that wherever I am, whatever work I choose to do, I will choose to be happy.
Sunday, April 13, 2014
Sharing
I stumbled into a new program on my local NPR station tonight called, "The Really Big Questions." The "really big question" that was being explored tonight was "Why do people share?" I was intrigued, and I listened with rapt attention. Soon I was taking notes. Before I knew it, I could feel a blog post forming.
Contrary to what is suggested by the "economic survival of the fittest"--the assumption that we survive by trying to get more stuff for ourselves, it ends up that just the opposite is true. That didn't totally surprise me since, in my field of organizational behavior studies have long proven that people are more driven intrinsically than by external rewards, but I didn't really realize the extent to which research has shown that we feel better when we give than when we take and that asking people to do something for free leads to better inputs than when we pay for results.
In a number of studies, the results of a number of workplace studies demonstrated the same thing in other settings: offering to pay money for certain behaviors "messes up motivation." People won't do what they might have done without pay after money is offered. Even in settings in which we might normally have expected selfishness to prevail--sales teams--when team members gave to other members, the resulting team was more cohesive and performed better over the long run. There are even studies in which people will refuse their own reward if they feel that others have been treated unfairly but less equally.
Researcher Michael Norton at Harvard gave people money to spend. Some were told to spend it on themselves, and others were told to spend it on someone else. The least happy were those who spent on themselves, more happy were those who spent on someone else, and the most happy were those who gave to someone/something else that would make a positive difference in the world.
In all settings, people who gave with no expectation of receiving anything in return were happier than those who expected some kind of reciprocity.
Even Darwin from whom we have come to expect a one-against-another battle for survival, filmmaker Tom Shadyac told us in his film "I am," only used the term "survival of the fittest" twice, while using the word "love" 95 times. Cooperation, the film tells us, is the order among the most successful species.
A number of years ago I lived on a lake. I always loved this time of year when young life was springing forth in nature all around me. What I noticed very quickly is that baby geese survived at a much higher rate than baby ducks. The difference: geese parent communally, sharing the responsibility for the next generation, while ducks parented individually.
The geese would "post sentries" on the banks when their little ones where out of the water, and the sentries would happily "goose" passersby that came anywhere near their young. In the water, the adult geese would encircle the young, protecting them in all directions. In a given cohort of say 20-24 goslings, rarely would more than one or two lose their lives.
By contrast, a single duck might start with 12-14 ducklings, and within days that number would be cut in half. Rarely did more than one or two of a brood reach maturity, as the ducklings fell victim to house cats, snakes, catfish, and other predictors. Clearly the strategy of a single mother duck parenting her young flock was not as effective as the sharing and cooperation of the geese.
Last night I watched "It Could Happen To You," an old Nicholas Cage film, which explores three lottery winners and how they used their winnings. The one selfishly went on a spending spree, buying expensive clothing, furs, and enlarging her home. The other two had fun sharing their wealth. One day they showed up in a subway station and gave away subway tokens. Another day they rented Yankee Stadium for poor kids to play baseball like the big leaguers. One was a waitress who bought the diner in which she worked and set up a special table for those who couldn't afford to buy a meal. In the end, as you might expect, the two who gave the money were the happiest and were soon beloved by their whole city, while the greedy one ended up losing everything and being alone except for her mother.
"The Really Big Question" of "Why do people share?" was never definitively answered, but clearly we not only come out ahead, but we feel better when we do. I think I used to share more than I do now, but even as a small child, I was taught to tithe--give away 1/10th of what I earned. I am sure I no longer hit 10 percent, but there are a number of "causes" that I support because I think they make the world better. Like those in the study who were happiest giving to make the world better, I am happiest when I feel like in some small way I am making the world better.
We do have many things to give other than money. I think that is where I've fallen short. So, this evening, like many others, I give my words in this blog post in hopes that it will make the world better for all of us. Tomorrow I will look for others ways to share more of my time and talent.
Contrary to what is suggested by the "economic survival of the fittest"--the assumption that we survive by trying to get more stuff for ourselves, it ends up that just the opposite is true. That didn't totally surprise me since, in my field of organizational behavior studies have long proven that people are more driven intrinsically than by external rewards, but I didn't really realize the extent to which research has shown that we feel better when we give than when we take and that asking people to do something for free leads to better inputs than when we pay for results.
In a number of studies, the results of a number of workplace studies demonstrated the same thing in other settings: offering to pay money for certain behaviors "messes up motivation." People won't do what they might have done without pay after money is offered. Even in settings in which we might normally have expected selfishness to prevail--sales teams--when team members gave to other members, the resulting team was more cohesive and performed better over the long run. There are even studies in which people will refuse their own reward if they feel that others have been treated unfairly but less equally.
Researcher Michael Norton at Harvard gave people money to spend. Some were told to spend it on themselves, and others were told to spend it on someone else. The least happy were those who spent on themselves, more happy were those who spent on someone else, and the most happy were those who gave to someone/something else that would make a positive difference in the world.
In all settings, people who gave with no expectation of receiving anything in return were happier than those who expected some kind of reciprocity.
Even Darwin from whom we have come to expect a one-against-another battle for survival, filmmaker Tom Shadyac told us in his film "I am," only used the term "survival of the fittest" twice, while using the word "love" 95 times. Cooperation, the film tells us, is the order among the most successful species.
A number of years ago I lived on a lake. I always loved this time of year when young life was springing forth in nature all around me. What I noticed very quickly is that baby geese survived at a much higher rate than baby ducks. The difference: geese parent communally, sharing the responsibility for the next generation, while ducks parented individually.
The geese would "post sentries" on the banks when their little ones where out of the water, and the sentries would happily "goose" passersby that came anywhere near their young. In the water, the adult geese would encircle the young, protecting them in all directions. In a given cohort of say 20-24 goslings, rarely would more than one or two lose their lives.
By contrast, a single duck might start with 12-14 ducklings, and within days that number would be cut in half. Rarely did more than one or two of a brood reach maturity, as the ducklings fell victim to house cats, snakes, catfish, and other predictors. Clearly the strategy of a single mother duck parenting her young flock was not as effective as the sharing and cooperation of the geese.
Last night I watched "It Could Happen To You," an old Nicholas Cage film, which explores three lottery winners and how they used their winnings. The one selfishly went on a spending spree, buying expensive clothing, furs, and enlarging her home. The other two had fun sharing their wealth. One day they showed up in a subway station and gave away subway tokens. Another day they rented Yankee Stadium for poor kids to play baseball like the big leaguers. One was a waitress who bought the diner in which she worked and set up a special table for those who couldn't afford to buy a meal. In the end, as you might expect, the two who gave the money were the happiest and were soon beloved by their whole city, while the greedy one ended up losing everything and being alone except for her mother.
"The Really Big Question" of "Why do people share?" was never definitively answered, but clearly we not only come out ahead, but we feel better when we do. I think I used to share more than I do now, but even as a small child, I was taught to tithe--give away 1/10th of what I earned. I am sure I no longer hit 10 percent, but there are a number of "causes" that I support because I think they make the world better. Like those in the study who were happiest giving to make the world better, I am happiest when I feel like in some small way I am making the world better.
We do have many things to give other than money. I think that is where I've fallen short. So, this evening, like many others, I give my words in this blog post in hopes that it will make the world better for all of us. Tomorrow I will look for others ways to share more of my time and talent.
Friday, January 3, 2014
Hurry and Happiness
The day of the year when I feel almost as happy about working hard around the house as I do the day I decorate for Christmas is the day I undecorated for Christmas. Tree out, wreath and poinsettias gone, furniture back where it belongs: with a deep sigh of relief, things have fallen back to "normal," whatever that is.
I am an NPR junkie, and I find the programs of my local station intellectually stimulating while doing mindless tasks around my apartment, like cleaning and removing ornaments and lights. Today I heard an interesting piece* about happiness and its relationship to usage of time, which started me thinking all afternoon and evening.
Two elements of the research of Dr. John Robinson, University of Maryland sociology professor, tell the story. First, those who are less rushed feel happier, and second, those who have less free time on their hands express happiness more often. The magic happiness cocktail: a combination of not being rushed and having little free time. Not rushed, but having little free time? This seems like a contradiction. I thought if I had less free time, I would feel more rushed. Yet, Robinson's research shows that people who are very happy almost never feel rushed. The reason that they have less free time, he has found, is that they have a lot of interests which they remain engaged in, and which, apparently, bring them happiness.
A related piece of research mentioned in the program, Dr. Erik Angner, economics professor at George Mason University, reports that the more television people watch, the less happy they are. The leap is that they aren't engaged in interests that bring them pleasure, so they have a lot of free time to watch television.
I have a colleague who seems very happy. She has two small children, but she is still is engaged in community, church, and family activities. I've often wondered how she does all she does, but, despite all that she has happening in her life, she never seems to be rushed. I'd say her life supports Robinson's research.
Some topics just keep coming around. The first is about being present. It seems to me that when I am really present, I am not rushed. I am not thinking about what is next or what isn't being done; I am able to enjoy what I am doing because I am present to it in the moment. As someone who often does feel rushed, I can say that it relaxes me to just think about being really engaged and present to a number of pleasurable activities. I actually could have been as mindful about undecorating my house--really been present--as I was decorating it, and I'll bet I would have felt a lot less tired at the end of the day.
The second is about choice. Robinson reports that those who are most rushed experience outside pressures beyond their control. He says that a sense of control in our lives is important to happiness. But who could have more balls in the air than my colleague, who seems never rushed? I suspect that those who are happiest just choose to be present--they choose to let go of control in exchange for just enjoying--being in joy--with what they are doing.
Winston Churchill is credited (probably incorrectly) with the quote: "We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give." If we feel too rushed to give or even too rushed to be present, then, it would seem to me, that we are really choosing not to be happy, although most of us would probably not make that choice if we were conscious of what we are doing.
Robinson sums up his research with a play on words from the Bobby McFerrin hit of a couple decades ago: "Don't hurry, be happy." Now that's a choice. Why would I want to hurry if I could be happy? That's a no-brainer. I think that may be a good fourth intention for my year...or maybe the intention should be: "Be present for this year." I think it is the same.
http://wamu.org/programs/metro_connection/13/05/24/dont_hurry_be_happy_research_highlights_link_between_busy_lives_and_bliss#at_pco=cfd-1.0
I am an NPR junkie, and I find the programs of my local station intellectually stimulating while doing mindless tasks around my apartment, like cleaning and removing ornaments and lights. Today I heard an interesting piece* about happiness and its relationship to usage of time, which started me thinking all afternoon and evening.
Two elements of the research of Dr. John Robinson, University of Maryland sociology professor, tell the story. First, those who are less rushed feel happier, and second, those who have less free time on their hands express happiness more often. The magic happiness cocktail: a combination of not being rushed and having little free time. Not rushed, but having little free time? This seems like a contradiction. I thought if I had less free time, I would feel more rushed. Yet, Robinson's research shows that people who are very happy almost never feel rushed. The reason that they have less free time, he has found, is that they have a lot of interests which they remain engaged in, and which, apparently, bring them happiness.
A related piece of research mentioned in the program, Dr. Erik Angner, economics professor at George Mason University, reports that the more television people watch, the less happy they are. The leap is that they aren't engaged in interests that bring them pleasure, so they have a lot of free time to watch television.
I have a colleague who seems very happy. She has two small children, but she is still is engaged in community, church, and family activities. I've often wondered how she does all she does, but, despite all that she has happening in her life, she never seems to be rushed. I'd say her life supports Robinson's research.
Some topics just keep coming around. The first is about being present. It seems to me that when I am really present, I am not rushed. I am not thinking about what is next or what isn't being done; I am able to enjoy what I am doing because I am present to it in the moment. As someone who often does feel rushed, I can say that it relaxes me to just think about being really engaged and present to a number of pleasurable activities. I actually could have been as mindful about undecorating my house--really been present--as I was decorating it, and I'll bet I would have felt a lot less tired at the end of the day.
The second is about choice. Robinson reports that those who are most rushed experience outside pressures beyond their control. He says that a sense of control in our lives is important to happiness. But who could have more balls in the air than my colleague, who seems never rushed? I suspect that those who are happiest just choose to be present--they choose to let go of control in exchange for just enjoying--being in joy--with what they are doing.
Winston Churchill is credited (probably incorrectly) with the quote: "We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give." If we feel too rushed to give or even too rushed to be present, then, it would seem to me, that we are really choosing not to be happy, although most of us would probably not make that choice if we were conscious of what we are doing.
Robinson sums up his research with a play on words from the Bobby McFerrin hit of a couple decades ago: "Don't hurry, be happy." Now that's a choice. Why would I want to hurry if I could be happy? That's a no-brainer. I think that may be a good fourth intention for my year...or maybe the intention should be: "Be present for this year." I think it is the same.
http://wamu.org/programs/metro_connection/13/05/24/dont_hurry_be_happy_research_highlights_link_between_busy_lives_and_bliss#at_pco=cfd-1.0
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