The Art of Happiness

It’s been two months since my last post lamenting that it had been a month since the previous post.  I haven’t figured it out yet, but I’m pretty sure this is a metaphor for life. Slow steps forward on a slippery slope, nails dug in hoping to prevent a massive backslide, wishing I’d listened to my mother and stopped biting my nails.

The strangest thing to me about personal sadness or general malaise is that it seems so unfounded.  I’ve had bad/sad things happen in my life that caused sadness and depression.  Normal enough.  But to be tripping along in life without a care in the world only to have the Earth open up and swallow me whole?  That’s a whole nother kettle of fish.

In case you’re put off by now, I will assure you that this is not a “poor pitiful me” post. Quite the opposite.  This is the beginning of a personal quest to figure out how to be happy without a major life change, or drugs, or intervention from any outside source.

This is me learning to be happy as a single, solitary and utterly complete person.

This is about studying my surroundings and being aware of life’s triggers.

This is a lesson on the art of being happy

Just a little personal ambience:

It’s winter. I am not a fan of winter. I HATE BEING COLD.  Not to mention the holidays, which make me an emotional wreck.  And work is crazy from December through February, further taxing my wrecked emotional state. Being the first week of March, you’d think I’d rejoice at the imminent arrival of spring. But spring really won’t come and stay here until May because that flippin’ groundhog flippin’ hates me!!!

I have five thousand projects going on yet I’m so bored I could cry.  I do cry, actually.  Out of boredom. Out of frustration of being bored when I have said five thousand projects I could be doing to circumvent boredom. Out of being knee-deep in unfinished projects which may – or may not – improve my quality of life. And sometimes I cry because I’m afraid that when I’m done with my projects, I will no longer have any purpose in life. Because that’s what I do and what I am: a projecteer.  And if that’s not a real word, it should be and I want credit for it.

Oh, and let’s not forget menopause.  It may account for a few of the aforementioned tears.

These may all contribute to my duldrums, but knowing this doesn’t make me feel any better.  That said, there is always one thing that makes me happy.  A New Project. Research, notecards, indices, references. And charts!  Charts make me so very happy. I am determined to learn more about the art of being happy.  What to do, what not to do, what it means, what you can control, and why all of this is so important.  I don’t plan to go all Stepford on you, but I think this is a topic worthy of study.


So let’s kick off my first day of self-evaluation with this chart, which I love for three reasons in particular. (p.s.  I saw this data cited through multiple sources, so I’m not exactly cherry-picking)

  1. We are genetically predisposed to being happy or not.  With 1/2 of my genes coming from my mother and 1/2 from my father, I am assured that my full-spectrum personality is 100% their fault and has nothing to do with me.
  2. I can actually control 40% of my happiness quotient through action. Hello, projects!
  3. And finally, this chart comes from a herpes support group and I don’t have herpes. So there’s something to be happy about right there!

As silly as this seems, I really do best working through life’s little setbacks as if writing a term paper.  I need documented research materials, test cases, evidence, and irrefutable evidence that everything will be OK. And it will be.

Again, this really is for me out of sheer curiosity.  I know all about the ebb and flow of emotions.  Good days, bad days. Happy days, sad days.  But if there’s something I can learn about happiness and apply these lessons to my own life, then I’d say it’s a worthy endeavor.





2 thoughts on “The Art of Happiness

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s