Although it got a little boring after the first week, I did keep my happy list during July – something every day that was positive – as I planned. I’ve looked over it and it’s not too surprising – which I suppose is a relief since at the age of 70 one does hope I have learned a little about my own likes and dislikes.
Here – not necessarily in order – is a summary of things that I found positive about my 31 days in July, 2012:
- People. Sometimes this was helping someone, explaining something, and email or phone exchanges. Interestingly, people would probably be on a list of most negative experiences too, which I think just goes to show how important they are in my life.
- Thinking. I can only take so much social interaction in a day because I need time alone. Mostly that’s thinking and reading time. The books and magazines on my shelves suggest that most of my time is spent thinking about philosophical and theological issues, about economics, and science.
Music. Every day. Folk, country, classical most of the time.- Exercise. It is still an effort to get started, but the rewards long and short-term are huge. Short-term, exercising – usually with music – gives me the most marvelous high. And it’s amazing the number of problems I solve while I’m exercising. It must do something to my brain. Long-term, exercise has been critical in maintaining my energy and strength. I do think we often get the old age we deserve, so I keep getting out of my chair for my 30 minutes a day (20 minutes when I’m cheating).
Solving problems. I don’t exactly like problems but I love to figure things out. I love to figure out how to make things work, to fix them, to find solutions that impress me at least as clever. I’m not sure it always needs to be useful. It’s just fun.- Watching children. I was amazed to realize how often this came up. Watching children try to figure things out, watching them run, or play, or try to get someone to do something. Well, I am a child psychologist, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.
- Coffee with Peter. It’s how we begin our day together. And it’s one of the most enjoyable events of most mornings.
Enough of this self-examination. It would be a lot more interesting to analyze a data base of lists that a lot of other people kept about what makes them happy.
But I would recommend doing for oneself at least once in one’s life. I was surprised to discover that there are literally dozens of things a day that I enjoy.
Very interesting. My mind is now spiralling off into self analysis. I am with you with people and thinking, but music passes me by.
I am content, and there’s nothing that really changes that. I was interested to observe myself during a time when ‘everything’ went wrong on a practical level – that my core happiness was unaffected. Weird.
Good brain chemistry? Or the peace that passes understanding?
Comment by sanstorm — August 14, 2011 @ 8:14 pm |
Thank you letting me know you find it an interesting list. Your being unmoved by music reminds me of one of my fundamental principles of learning. I think as individuals we tend to have different kinds of art to which we respond on the deepest level. And I think we each need to find out what they are – painting, sculpture, music, poetry, literature, dance, theatre… A friend of mine told me about her son-in-law who grew up on a farm in Vermont. The first time he was in New York City, he and his wife visited the Metropolitan Museum of Art. He walked around for three hours almost speechless he was so moved. I appreciate painting but never like that. But music can do that to me. I would be very surprised if there isn’t at least one medium to which you respond with that kind of depth. It would be interesting to hear if you do.
Ah, happiness: is it bio-chemical or learned? I think it must be both. We know some of the bio-chemicals involved in creating depression, as well in creating the kind of core happiness you describe. (And that I too recognize.) But we also know that cognitive therapy is as effective as drugs in helping a person overcome depression.
Again, thank you.
Comment by Terry Sissons — August 15, 2011 @ 8:04 pm |
You’re welcome. The music thing is a weird one with me. I am very musical – but I never listen to it. My ipod has audiobooks on it rather than songs.
My dad has suggested that my love of silence comes from having children – and maybe I’ll be turning on a radio in ten years time when I am not craving peace.
With “art” I find the ideas interesting, but the medium unmoving.
I wish I could be caught up – as your friend’s son-in-law was – or like in Pretty Woman when Richard Gere takes her to the opera.
Still waiting!
Comment by sanstorm — August 16, 2011 @ 9:31 pm |
I never thought of it before, but I wouldn’t be surprised if your dad is right. It does take some inner peace and quiet to really be able to respond to any art form. I mean, you really can’t appreciate a profound poem or Beethoven’s Fifth while somebody is coming in crying with cut knee or bee sting, or needing help with their arithmetic homework.
So maybe you’ll have to wait a little longer. I would hypothesize that one of the art forms you would respond to uses words – in songs, or literature, or poetry.
Happy hunting!
Comment by theotheri — August 17, 2011 @ 8:20 pm |