res·o·lute

Ah, the New Year. That infamous time of the year when your gym suddenly is full again, there’s more people lurking in the produce section, and there’s unrealistic expectations piled everywhere you look. Or you could be one of those who “resolve not to make resolutions” (and then pretend that they are the first person to proclaim such a cliche). I’ve been both of those people.

This New Year I wasn’t expecting to resolve myself to do anything differently, but then I found a copy of The Happiness Project whilst browsing at Coles.  Don’t ask me how I ended up in the self-help section.  But, there I was, and there I was picking up a copy of this book.  I’ve been reading it over the last week, and I’m already starting to see my world differently (which is always the first sign of a good book!).

The author of the book, Gretchen Rubin, dedicates herself to researching and practicing different ways to find happiness in her life over a period of 12 months. So far I’ve read January and February, or the “Boost Energy” and “Love” resolutions she tackled.  What I love about this book (so far) is that she’s all about taking the SMALL STEPS necessary to secure happiness. Too often I’ve wanted to take on my own “happiness project” and failed (miserably), if only because I tried to do too much, too quick.

I’m not going to do that to myself, again.  As I’m reading through the book, I’m looking for these small steps I can take in my own life, to help me find happiness.  Maybe over the course of the year I’ll write about the steps I’m taking.

So far, the one step that’s really stood out to me is Rubin’s twelfth “commandment”: “There is only love.”  Here’s a quick YouTube video where she talks about the role of love and happiness:

Now, when I first read this mantra of “there is only love,” I think my eyes rolled.  At first, it just sounds — well, fluffy. Deepak Chopra-ish. Not something a rational person like me could appreciate, right?

But then I started to think about it.

The example in the book is of a woman who took a job working for a notoriously negative employer.  She knew, going into the position, that her boss would be difficult to work with. So, rather than armoring up to bear the tough environment, she told herself to think, “There is only love.” From the book:

From that moment on, she refused to think critical thoughts about John Doe; she never complained about him behind his back; she wouldn’t even listen to other people criticize him.

“Don’t your coworkers think you’re a goody-goody?” I asked.

“Oh no,” she said. “They all wish they could do the same thing, too. He drives them crazy, but I can honestly say I like John.”

– p. 40, The Happiness Project

This idea of “there is only love” has really stuck with me. All too often I’m able to read people, and interpret their interpersonal communication. While it’s sometimes a bonus to be able to have such an ability, more often than not it leaves me feeling devastated — especially when I can tell that people don’t particularly like who I am.

I can’t help it, I’m a people-pleaser.  What sucks is that I’m the kind of person who you either really LOVE or really HATE — there’s not much middle ground when it comes to people’s impressions of me.  Lately it seems like I’ve had to deal with more of the latter, and if I’m not careful, it can really get me down (read: not happy).

So, rather than interpreting someone’s actions toward me as automatically being critical or negative, why not think to myself: “there is only love.”  Those 4 little words remind me that there’s bigger issues at work here. Maybe this person doesn’t understand my approach?  Maybe this person is herself very UNhappy, and finds me a good target to aim for?  Maybe that car didn’t see me before cutting me off? Maybe I’m not as good at reading intentions in communication, and I’m taking things too personally?

All of these “maybes” are legitimate, and I know I need to consider them before jumping on the conclusions wagon. So, one of my “resolutions” I’ve set for myself to start practicing saying “there is only love” more often.  I think it will help me to see my relationships differently — and I’m already feeling lighter, not having to worry so much about what others may think about me.

Another reminder of why I need to be a happier mama.

Happy Solstice!

My exam for 2 of my classes was only yesterday — so I’ll be busy marking right up to the big day!

Hopefully I’ll be able to catch my breath long enough to write something substantial. Until then, ttfn.

Here’s to Hitch

Socratic Mama reminded me of Hitchens’ closing words in his debate with William Dembski. In light of Hitch’s recent passing, these are words worth remembering:

I want to answer Bill’s (Dembski) implied question… Why don’t you accept this wonderful offer (of eternal life in heaven) ? Why wouldn’t you like to meet Shakespeare, for example? I don’t know if you really think that when you die you can be corporeally reassembled and have conversations with authors from previous epochs. It’s not necessary that you believe that in Christian theology and I have to say that it sounds like a complete fairytale to me. The only reason I want to meet Shakespeare, or might even want to, is because I can meet him anytime because he is immortal in the works he’s left behind. If you’ve read those then meeting the author would almost certainly be a disappointment.

But when Socrates was sentenced to death, for his philosophical investigations and for blasphemy for challenging the gods of the city, and he accepted his death he did say, “Well, if we are lucky perhaps I will be able to hold conversation with other great thinkers and philosophers and doubters, too.” In other words, that the discussion about what is good, what is beautiful, what is noble, what is pure, and what is true could always go on. Why is that important? Why would I like to do that? Because that’s the only conversation worth having. And whether it goes on or not after I die, I don’t know.

But, I do know that it is the conversation I want to have while I am still alive. Which means that to me the offer of certainty, the offer of complete security, the offer of an impermeable faith that can’t give way is an offer of something not worth having.

I want to live my life taking the risk all the time that I don’t know anything like enough yet… that I haven’t understood enough… that I can’t know enough… that I am always hungrily operating on the margins of a potentially great harvest of future knowledge and wisdom. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

And I’d urge you to look at those who tell you, those people who tell you at your age, that you are dead until you believe as they do. What a terrible thing to be telling to children. …and that you can only live by accepting an absolute authority. Don’t think of that as a gift. Think of it as a poisoned chalice. Push it aside however tempting it is. Take the risk of thinking for yourself. Much more happiness, truth, beauty and wisdom will come to you that way. Thank you.

Cheers, Christopher.

Merry merry

Happy Christmas/Saturnalia/Chalica/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa/etc

My favorite holiday song for the season — Tim Minchin’s ‘White Wine in the Sun’:

It’s the kind of song that makes me giggle and get weepy, all at once.  The song has got just a touch of heresy, and more than a touch of sentimentality (in that good kind of way).

I particularly like what he sings to his baby girl, because it’s something I hope Emma will always know in her heart:

And you, my baby girl
My jetlagged infant daughter
You’ll be handed round the room
Like a puppy at a primary school
And you won’t understand
But you will learn someday
That wherever you are and whatever you face
These are the people who’ll make you feel safe in this world
My sweet blue-eyed girl

And if, my baby girl
When you’re twenty-one or thirty-one
And Christmas comes around
And you find yourself nine thousand miles from home
You’ll know what ever comes
Your brother and sisters and me and your Mum
Will be waiting for you in the sun
Whenever you come
Your brothers and sisters, your aunts and your uncles
Your grandparents, cousins and me and your mum
We’ll be waiting for you in the sun

I love the images in this song — I can see the color of the white wine in the sun, and feel the love of this family.

And that’s the weepy part for me (in a good kind of way).

after my really bad Saturday, this.

Worst/Best

I think
I thought
that
true love
is preferring
one someone
at their worst
than
any number
of other someones
at their most
pristine
and absolute
best.

-Tyler Knott Gregson-

Today I’m thankful for him. And, us.

What she said:

The only position that leaves me with no cognitive dissonance is atheism. It is not a creed. Death is certain, replacing both the siren-song of Paradise and the dread of Hell. Life on this earth, with all its mystery and beauty and pain, is then to be lived far more intensely: we stumble and get up, we are sad, confident, insecure, feel loneliness and joy and love. There is nothing more; but I want nothing more.

–Ayaan Hirsi Ali (from How (and Why) I Became an Infidel)