Archive

You Are Your Own Happiness Engineer

posted 21st June 2011    Written by: Amanda    CATEGORY: All Posts, Amanda, Life Lesson, Season 4, What I've Learned

I started reading Reality is Broken a little while ago. Jane McGonigal caught my attention with her TED Talk a while back, where she talked about how gaming — yes, of the video gaming variety — could change the world. Of course, my being a gamer meant that I was all like, “HELL YEAH, BABY! LET’S DO THIS THANG.”

And then her book came out.

While I thought the book was going to be all about explaining the awesomeness of games to non-gamers, it turned out to be an exercise in paradigm shifting. I’m not very far into the book (yet) but the chapter on Happiness Engineers really caught my attention… especially after recent events.

You guys know that Mike and I don’t own a vehicle. No point in this transit oriented city. Mike went over to Vancouver Island last weekend and brought back his mom’s SUV (since she’s using her other vehicle and Mike’s dad is in Toronto for four weeks). It’s been nice to have wheels.

I digress.

Not the point.

He proposed that we go and get our hospital bag(s) packed for when ZomBaby decides to make his appearance. I noticed I didn’t have everything I needed so we figured we’d go out and pick it up from the local Mega Store of Groceries and Other Things (ahem, Superstore). About three blocks into our journey, I burst into tears.

Of course, Mike was a bit horrified. I’m not usually one to just break down and cry out of the blue. We can blame the pregnancy hormones all we want but the truth is this: I’ve been feeling very isolated lately. Events had occurred recently that had really shifted my perception of the people in my life. Where I wouldn’t expect someone to step up, people have stepped up. Where I have expected support, people haven’t bothered to show up.

It’s an odd thing to be faced with that kind of reality. It’s like I’m in perma-Opposite-Day-mode or something.

Okay, it’s not just odd.

It’s devastating.

So I sat in my mother-in-law’s silver Nissan SUV and I bawled. It wasn’t just a few tears. This was a full-on, big ugly cry. With hiccups. And black liquid eyeliner EVERYWHERE.

As soon as I could speak, Mike asked me, “Baby, what’s wrong? Why are you crying so hard? Did I hurt you?”

Sniffling hard, I said, “No, love. I’m just so angry that while I’m faltering and flailing… people keep leaving or not bothering to show up. I feel alone. I feel desperate. I feel isolated. I feel under-loved… like my soul is malnourished or something…”

Eventually, I pulled my shit together and we managed to get our hospital checklist taken care at the Superstore.

The next day, I contemplated my reaction in the car and really dug deep to understand both my motivations and the motivations of others.

1. In which we love too much.

I’ve always been of the mind that if I pour my heart and soul into another human being that they will reward me with loyalty and respect. I figure that if I love people enough, it will act as its own deterrent for people seeking to hurt me. After all, what kind of person would go out of their way to hurt someone that loves you so damn much?

And, as always, my naiveté overpowers my logical brain meats.

Shortly after my outburst in the SUV, Mike pointed out that the people I know aren’t being malicious. People have their own lives full of their own worries and concerns. I can’t expect to be loved by everyone. It’s simply not possible. Or reasonable.

“But I love a lot of people,” I protested.

“Yes, but you are the exception, not the rule. I know that I don’t tell my friends I love them. I may care for them but it wouldn’t occur to me to say it out loud. I figure they just know.”

I found myself vexed. Perhaps Mike was onto something.

Which led me to…

2. We engineer our own happiness.

“Positive psychology is the relatively new field of science that studies “human flourishing”, or how we achieve different kinds of happiness. For just over a decade now, positive-psychology researchers have been accumulating a formidable body of knowledge about how our brains and bodies work to help us achieve well-being and life satisfaction.” – Jane McGonigal (Reality is Broken)

It’s a luxury to be thinking about happiness and joy and “human flourishing”. I know it is. I know that I’m blessed enough to have grown up in (moderate) privilege, without having to worry about my personal well-being and survival beyond more than, “What shall we make for dinner tonight?”

When I think about happiness in the context of my life, I think of myself as a happy person (especially these days). I smile a lot. I laugh all the time, without thinking. Many things (and people) bring me a distinct feeling of joy and fulfillment.

And that, as I’ve learned, is wherein the problem lies: things and people bring me joy.

The conclusion I came to is that if I relied on the rest of the world to bring me joy and happiness and fulfillment, I would be left with a string of disappointments in the form of completely busted relationships that were buried under high expectation and lack of mutual respect.

Happiness must come from within, first and foremost.

It was a hard lesson to learn, especially after the years I’ve spent being a firm believer in cultivating relationships and love in order to feel loved (and happy) in return. By allowing my thirst for love and approval to drive my happiness, I became tied to the moods of friends and family. Slippery-ass-slope especially when…

3. People are fickle.

Yes, yes they are. People will come. They will go. They will show up when they’re least expected. They’ll be conspicuously absent when they’re needed. They’ll love you when you feel loved up. They’ll ignore you when you’re desperate for a scrap of human attention and validation.

Or they’ll surprise you and do something completely unexpected and wonderful in the process.

People are fickle (and, by our own nature, selfish), therefore we must become our own Happiness Engineers. We can’t be looking to the horizon and saying, “If only this person would love me a little more — a little better — I could be happier.” Or wishing for Prince Charming to swoop in. Or Starbuck from Battlestar Galactica. Whatever floats your boat, really.

This is one the hardest things I’ve ever had to learn in my life. I know that it will take many, many more years of reprogramming my own behaviour until I get to the point where my friendships and relationships can’t crush me.

I must become Happiness Sufficient of my own volition.

Talk about a tall order. Got any advice for me? Better yet, got a similar story to share?

Image found via Image Spark.

 

divider

What Is Love?

posted 11th May 2011    Written by: Laura    CATEGORY: Laura, Love/Relationships, Season 4

I’ve been doing some thinking about love lately.

I’m in the midst of planning my wedding, first of all. But then, I’m also supporting a friend through a break up; the death of a love once cherished.

I’m one of the few people who didn’t set my alarm way early on April 29 to witness the most anticipated and obsessed-over wedding to happen in my lifetime. We all just celebrated Mother’s Day – in whatever way that looks like for us – the one day dedicated to the most primal kind of love there is: that between a mother and her offspring. And to top it off, I’m reading Brene Brown’s The Gift of Imperfection, a book about loving yourself (and therefore, others) with your whole heart.

Yes, there’s alotta fuss about love happening in my life these days. Embracing it, celebrating it, honouring it, resenting it, learning from it, discovering it.

Love is one of the most complex, magical, subjective, and indescribable human conditions. It has the potential to bring us the most joy and the most grief we will ever experience in our lives. It’s presence, or its absence, can leave us speechless.

What is love? What does it feel like, look like, sound like?

Tough questions, right? Here’s my take. I’d be honoured if you’d share yours.

“Without hard work, nothing grows but weeds.”
- Gordon B Hinckley

Love is a verb, not an adjective. Love is being attentive. Love is listening and looking – into eyes, into souls, into possibilities, and into unspoken words. Love is choosing your battles. Love is having the clarity to decipher things that deserve discussion from those that ought to be brushed off. Love is forgiveness. Love is cutting yourself some slack. Love is having perspective. Love is looking inward. Love is taking care of yourself first, so you can better take care of others. Love is being, rather than striving. Love is trusting, rather than wondering.

“You may only be someone in the world, but to someone else, you may be the world.”
-Unknown

Love is cooking dinner, even if its only Kraft Dinner. Love is getting me a drink of water. Love is passing the Kleenex. Love is tucking me in at night. Love is a kiss on the forehead. Love is going to pharmacy, for something that will fix what ails me. Love is not taking it personal. Love is letting it go. Love is coming along to the vet, because going to the vet sucks the big one. Love is cleaning up the cat puke, this time. Love is middle-of-the-night cuddles. Love is offering suggestions, even when criticisms might be more obvious. Love is smiling or shutting up, even when scowling or scoffing are easy options.

“Do you love me because I am beautiful, or am I beautiful because you love me?”
- Cinderella

Love is seeing beauty over flaws. Love is celebrating the good and accepting the not-so-good. Love is allowing for differences. Love is finding comfort, even in the gray areas. Sometimes, love is biting your tongue. Other times, it’s speaking up and holding your ground. Love is compromising. Love is remembering. It is also forgetting. Love is commitment. It is also flexibility. Love is co-dependence. It is also independence. Love is about teaching some things, while learning others. Love is being vulnerable, rather than defensive.

“All you need is love.”
- John Lennon & Paul McCartney

Love is kindness, generosity, and compassion. Love is touch. Love is laughter. Love is admiration. Love is saying thank you. Love is asking for help. Love is dancing. Love is being silly. Love lacks judgment. Love is believing you’re worthy. Love is sharing. Love is small gestures. Love is a bouquet of flowers. Love is surprises. Love is humouring. Love is returning the favour. Love lacks ego. Love is respect. Love is worth making sacrifices for and investing in.

Love is whatever you need it to be. What is love for you?

{Photo credit}

divider

Where I Find Inspiration

posted 2nd November 2010    Written by: Doniree    CATEGORY: Doniree, Inspiration, Season 3

Pretty much ninety percent of the time, I’ve got a notebook and a pen with me.  The other 10% when I don’t have a physical pen and paper, I have the Notebook app and Evernote apps on my phone on the front/main screen of my iPhone, and they’re constantly being filled with ideas and jotted notes.

Inspiration hits at the most random times.  On my yoga mat’s a given.  Half-pigeon pose?  I’m dealing with feelings, emotions, and creativity.  Ideas run like crazy.  Final savasana?  Sometimes I transcend.  Other times I make grocery lists.  It really depends on the day, but just about demands that somewhere within my reach after class ends, I have a way to write down the epiphanies I had or the acorn squash I need to pick up at Safeway.

I also have really great ideas in the shower.  There’s something about being alone with your thoughts – no texting, no email alerts, no nothing except for cleansing steam, soap, hot water, and firing connections in my brain.

It’s pretty reliable that if I shower regularly and stick with my yoga practice, my mind stays fairly fresh and balanced, generating new ideas and connecting new thoughts all the time.

Except when it doesn’t.  And when I’m stuck, when I’m at a dead end, feeling uninspired, running up against the dreaded writer’s block, and staring at a blank computer screen or note book page – I have a few things in my arsenal that I pull out when I need to be inspired.

Here’s what I do when I need to kickstart creativity:

Do

Switch up my routine.  Take a different bus, work in a different coffee shop, go to a new yoga class.  Visit the gym at a different time of day than usual, try a new place for lunch.  Cook something new.  Do something that requires my brain to make new connections, try on new perspectives.

Cook.  There is something so incredibly therapeutic about cooking.  I love cooking for and with friends, but when I need to unplug and completely reconnect to me, I cook for me.  I concentrate on chopping vegetables, measuring tablespoons, waiting for oil to heat.  I turn garlic and onions carefully in the skillet, and study the contents of my cabinets and refrigerator for the right combination of flavors for the food that’s cooking.  I kitchen dance. I nourish my body, whether that means paying careful attention to get a ton of nutrients and vitamins in my system or if it means sinking into a rich, creamy bowl of soup or pasta.  Sometimes Doniree’s Test Kitchen works out well, and I come up with delicious meals that demand replication, and I share them with friends.  Sometimes it doesn’t work out so well and I toss more than I keep.  But it’s about the process as much as it’s about the flavors.  The process of learning what does and doesn’t work, and the process of such active participation in what I put into my body.  For me, there are fewer more reconnecting and inspiring acts than conscious cooking.

Hear

French Cafe music on Pandora.  When I need to write, I work well when I’m working with music that either doesn’t have words, or doesn’t have words in English.  If I can’t sing along, I focus more on what I’m doing.  Also, French music in general makes me daydreamy and romantic-feeling, so inspiration’s nearly a given.  Just try not to be inspired listening to Carla Bruni, eating croissants, and pretending you’re actually in a French cafe.  Just try.

Other [Mostly] Chick Music. Feist.  Florence and the Machines.  Lissie.  La Roux.  Yeah Yeah Yeahs.  Metric.  Karen O doing just about anything.  Taylor Swift.  The Weepies.  You get the idea.

Connect

Process. The people in my life are brilliant, smart, deep, spiritual, critical-thinking, bright lights of inspiration.  My boyfriend keeps me on my toes and holds me accountable to truly living what I believe in.  My girlfriends are radiant women who are authentic and honest.  Others in my life are motivated, smart, and inspiring.  Being in the presence of – and actively contributing to – relationships and conversation is a huge source of inspiration in my life.  They ask thought-provoking questions, hold me accountable to never being anything less than my most authentic self, and create a safe space for hashing out tough thoughts and feelings.

Surrender.  Admitting I’m stuck and surrendering to the void, to the unknown, to the frustration is typically when inspiration strikes the hardest.  I’m frequently held accountable to this idea and remind me to stop fighting the lack of inspiration and motivation and surrender into whatever the blockage is.  Surrendering is typically a sure-fire way to find the answers and ideas I’d previously been fighting so hard to find.

Move

Run, walk, stretch, twist, asana.  It’s no surprise, but getting physical is inspiring.  I run a couple of times a week at the gym, and typically listen to a podcast or upbeat music while I do.  Sometimes I listen to what’s on my iPod, sometimes I listen to what’s in my head.  Either way, the act of unplugging and hanging with you and your own body – within your own body – is really inspiring.  On top of that, I get to yoga at least a couple of times each week (my goal for November is 3-4 times/week).  I can’t sing loud enough the praises of what this practice does for connecting mind, body, and spirit.

These are a few of the things that work for me. What works for you?

{Photo credit: Rachel at Hello Gorgeous Photography}

divider

How to Make Friends in New Situations

posted 16th October 2010    Written by: Renee    CATEGORY: All Posts, Life Lesson, Renee, Season 3, What I've Learned

I have quite a bit of experience making new friends in new situations. I’ve changed jobs quite a few times. I’ve moved a few times. And I thrive on chit-chat and learning about people. I want to feel included, to feel liked, and to enjoy the casual company of others. It can be a daunting task, figuring out how to make friends, especially if you’re the new girl. I can remember staying up the night before my graduate orientation, terrified that I’d be lonely, that I wouldn’t fit in, that I wouldn’t relate, that I would make zero friends, and convinced the next two years of my Masters program would be akin to solitary confinement. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Since beginning my graduate program, I’ve surrounded myself with brilliant, beautiful, inspiring, gutsy people from all different walks of life. I never expected it but the friends I’ve made so far have given me a pleasant surprise.

So, having been the awkward girl who now happens to have a pretty solid group of grad school colleagues, I thought I’d share some of the things I’ve learned from this specific experience. I’ve identified some of the key components that take the edge off of how to make new friends. These are the things I needed to convey and the things that I look for in friends.

Warmth — Have you ever met those people who don’t look you in the eye, who don’t smile, who seem uptight and stiff? If you’re not willing to shine, or even glimmer, would you expect anyone to make the effort to warm up to you? Probably not. Always be warm, be your radiant, amazing self to everyone you meet. I’ve found that when you are warm to others, you’ll receive warmth in return. A smile or encouraging remark can lift anyone’s spirit.

Honesty — Exhibit an honest, authentic representation of yourself. Put your crazy out there. If your religion or politics or opinions on something are incredibly important to you, why not wear that on your sleeve? When I meet someone new and if I develop a friend crush on them, chances are I’m going to lay it all out there. This is me, this is who I am, this is what drives me, and if you can accept that, I will accept your crazy. It evens out the playing field and encourages authentic relationships.

Humor — I use humor as an icebreaker. This works mostly because I make jokes when I’m nervous. Being socially awkward, I’m nervous any time I’m forced in a situation that involves New People. So I bust out my inner Tina Fey. Similarly, I’m drawn to people who make me laugh; people who use silly voice, who gesticulate wildly, who can deliver a story with such enthusiasm that it feels like we experienced it together. These are magnetic people and I strive to be on the same playing field.

Listening — Something I learned the hard way: You can’t expect someone to listen to you babble on about your wacky dream last night or your frustrations with a classmate unless you do the same for them. Active listening takes work. Don’t look at the computer screen while you’re listening, don’t pick at your nails, don’t interrupt. Friendship is a give and take. Be listened to and listen. (This is advice for myself, mostly, as I can be super bad at this!)

Sharing — Share stories.  Share office supplies.  Share brownies.  Sharing your resources is one of the best ways I’ve found to make a compassionate connection and new friends. Food is probably the most well-recepted, especially if you’re a great baker. The people flock to muffins… if you bake it, they will come.

So there you have it, the five things to keep in mind when entering new territory and yearning for friends. I still struggle with it. I still think to myself some days, “Okay. Don’t speak up about such-and-such again because you’re starting to sound annoying.” But that’s all part of the learning process. I’ve discovered if you’re honest with yourself, you’ll develop honest friendships. And that’s a beautiful thing.

{photo: Erica Marshall of muddyboots.org}

divider

Friendship: a Reason, a Season or Life

posted 19th September 2010    Written by: Lindsey    CATEGORY: Lindsey, What I've Learned

I grew up in a town of about 5,000 people, so I knew the same kids my whole life. More than half the cherubic faces in my preschool class photo were in my graduating class. Thanks to a combination of Facebook and my being home for the summer, I know all about what each of these people are doing with their lives, for the most part. We’re life friends by default.

When I left for college it was this huge rush of people and friendships. Some lasting, some not. And more and more people have come into my life in my travels. Lifetime friendships, and temporary friendships. The common bond of elementary school no longer exists.

It seems like it’d be easier, to always have friends that you’ll know forever. But there are a lot of people in this world, and it’s just impossible to consider everyone a lifelong friend.

There is that saying: People come into our lives for a reason, a season, or life. I think that is such a lovely way to say “Hey, you know, I’ve loved our time together, but we are two individual people, and we must move on our own individual paths.” I like to have this feeling of okayness.

A Reason

We are all teachers, even if we don’t assume the title. I learn valuable lessons from the people in my life, every day. I connect with people easily, I am open and friendly and make fast friends with people of all ages and backgrounds. (My best friends in Tahoe were a 75 year old man and a 46 year old woman.)

These fast friendships, while not always lasting, are always reflected upon with pleasure. There was a lesson in that friendship, brief as it may have been. Maybe the end of the relationship came about because of a move or a disagreement or simply a lack of time.

But I am a strong believer in finding purpose in our choices. The choice to meet this friend, and share certain experiences or conversations. The choice to end the friendship, for whatever reason. These choices help me understand myself. And hopefully, the effect was mutual.

A Season

Friendships grow and friendships fade. Sometimes, people walk out of my life loudly, or sometimes it’s a gradual fade out. It’s sad, to know that this person who I’ve shared a special bond with is gone. And strange to realize that our friendship was, indeed, a season in my life.

Seasons change. Life is change. I think it’s incredibly healthy to embrace this change and love everything that happened and that was learned. But also love that you’ve changed and are moving on.

Seasonal friendships are reflections of personal growth.

Or, Life

Lifetime friends aren’t always around, but there have been so many reasons and seasons we’ve shared together I know that they’ll be around for life, no matter where I am in the world.

Even in this strange period of life, where I’m going back on my words (“yep, I am definitely moving to {awesome city where friend lives} soon” then living in not that city but living a nomadic hermit life, completely out of touch of so many people), my life friends are always there to support me.

The internet has made these lifetime friendships easier than ever. But nothing substitutes for the real thing. In my QLC, where I am absolutely confused about everything, it helps so much to have these friends that know me and all my quirks and fears and complexes. We’ve taught each other lessons. Built bonds that last through secluded summers and flirty falls and wayfaring winters and silly springs.

It still seems weird to me, after being gone for so long, that I have these lifetime friends. Even if I abandon them, I’m still Lindsey. And they still love me, and I them.

We’re all connected

Human interactions happen all the time. With the right perspective, you can get the most out of them. I look for reasons in all relationships. Like, right now, you’re here, and you’re reading me as I spill my guts on the internet. Our relationship is small, but you reading, that makes me feel really connected, and hopefully there is something you get out of this.

Then, maybe we’ll start emailing. Or meet in real life. And go to music festivals and hula hoop. Or bake cookies and ride bikes. But I’ll move to Argentina. And you’ll fly to the moon. And the season will end.

But maybe when I get back from the southern hemisphere and you get back from outer space, we’ll realize that we should still be friends. I teach you Spanish. You teach me about moon rocks.

Who knows? All I know, is that my friends are awesome. All of ‘em.

{photo credit : pareeerica}

divider

Next Page »