The Challenge of Change

So, if you use Facebook, you know they changed their layout yet again. (Side note: what would it be like to work for a company that can change what they want, when they want, without the trappings of a regulatory body? Hard to fathom.) From the comments of many of my friends last week, it seemed a catastrophic injustice had befallen the citizens of this online community—how dare they modify the way we see our favorite web page! I don't have any real data on this, but from my random friend sampling, I saw that about 50% of people had a comment about the new layout, and the majority of those folks HATED it. Not just disliked, or found inconvenient, but LOATHED.

I don't claim to handle change any better than the next person—in fact, I myself have recently had bouts of extreme discontent about small changes. For example, the other day, I drove into the parking lot at work MUCH earlier than I usually arrive, and I was thrilled with the idea that I would be able to park in a choice parking spot (known as "gravy" in my college days). You can imagine my horror and disbelief when I saw that the whole first two tiers of the parking lot were BLOCKED, and I and the other early birds had to park in spots usually reserved for the late-comers. It was nothing short of torturous.

At my job, and I suppose in any corporate situation, change happens often. The management decides on a new direction, and the underlings are shuffled about to accommodate the upheaval. Then, just as everyone gets settled into the new scenario, things are shaken up yet again, and we have to adjust anew. In my first three years at "the corporation," I changed desks twelve times, each time packing up my belongings and resettling at a new space, where I had to reconfigure my wall hangings and make the gray walls feel a little more inviting. At first this was disconcerting, but after a while I developed a system, and then my moves became quicker and easier. Of course, just as I got used to the idea that moving was inevitable, I joined a team that has left me in the same desk for years at a time.

One huge move was the transition between two work "campuses." I was originally working a short 15 minute drive from home and rarely ran into traffic. The company reorganized (not a new concept) and picked us all up and sent us miles away, across a river, and through much busier traffic. The atmosphere for those who lived near me was indignant, but for those who were going to be working closer to home, it was ecstatic.

Aaron and I have been working on "cleaning out closets"—he doesn't know it, but it's one of my Happiness Resolutions for January. (I sucked him in to the project almost without his knowledge—but I think it has been a good thing.) He likes stuff. He has a lot of it, and he loves it. I am not really a "stuff" person. I enjoy throwing things out—it makes me feel free and more clear-headed, but it stresses him out. I tried to say to him as I proposed the idea of getting rid of clutter, "it feels so GREAT to have less stuff."

I'm trying to understand more his attachment to his stuff and not give him such a hard time. I suppose part of the issue is that my memories are tied more to an overall feeling of a time or place, rather than a specific picture or piece of paper. My favorite memories are hard to describe, because they don't really involve specifics I can point to. One of the most beautiful places I've ever been is what used to be a church summer camp, where my family would go in the fall with our church for a weekend. It would be cold, and we would sleep in sleeping bags with heated blankets in wooden camp cabins. The bathroom was a separate building, and there were bugs and spiders on the concrete floors, and the water was always cold. We would sing songs and play games and roam the empty camp trails, and race other kids through the emptied out swimming pool.

There was an outdoor chapel, built on the edge of a bluff that looked out across the rolling Ozark hills in southern Missouri. We would go there early in the morning on Sundays, and everything would be frosty and quiet, and I can remember sitting there in silence as an elementary school kid, watching a hawk drift back and forth off the edge of the bluff in the cold morning air. A picture can't really do it justice, because the smells and sounds and sights all contributed to the peaceful feeling of being with loved ones in such a great place are the important pieces of the memory. Maybe we made crafts those weekends when I was 7 and 8 and 9, but if I kept them they wouldn't do anything to enhance that memory in my mind. I'm sure my parents have pictures of the place, but seeing them doesn't change anything about what I can recall of those days (and in fact, may bring my fantastical memories about the place back to a more realistic and less enjoyable cadence).

It's hard for me to imagine that any thing that I could hold in my hands would give me anything remotely as great as that memory, so I tend to put little value on things, but I need to remember that not everyone's mind works the way mine does, so it isn't fair of me to say that things don't hold value—they just don't do so for me.

Point is, change happens. Whether it's Facebook or work, or a relationship or an addition to a family, it happens. I doubt that most people would really be satisfied if everything remained EXACTLY the same for years on end. I personally crave a little excitement, and so I shouldn't be so adverse to that excitement just because it feels a little more like stress.

Bonus to moving to the new work campus: I get to wear jeans every day. And I got used to it. (And I moved, so the drive isn't nearly so awful.) Following one of my Happiness Comandments, I'm learning to "Let go." Things have a way of working out, whether you like it or not, and change becomes habit until we have to change again.

A Little Bit Soggy

Kansas City got a little snow yesterday, but that wasn't enough to deter the first meeting of the Kansas City Happiness Project! I wore my newly knit leg warmers, which makes me EXTREMELY happy, but they got a little soggy tromping through the melting snow. The group was small but lively--we had a great space to meet, good conversation, and some delicious food! Eddie Delahunt at Cafe & was great, and I think he appreciated our desire to be happier--he's a pretty happy guy himself, so the whole vibe worked really well.

I was a little nervous about whether people would feel like sharing, and what I would say--I was as prepared as I felt like I could be: it's sort of like a book club, but not everyone had read the book. I hope they (and all of you!) will go get The Happiness Project book, and whether you can make it to a meeting or start your own happiness project, I think you'll get SOMETHING out of it.

One of Gretchen's main points about a happiness project is that everyone's will look different--things that make me happy might not necessarily make YOU happy. For example, I love knitting, but that may not be your cup of tea. I like to listen to NPR podcasts of my favorite shows, but some people may think they are boring.

What I liked about the group that came today was that everyone was willing to share a little about their own lives, their own quest for happiness and fulfillment, and anecdotes of their own experiences. In her own project, Gretchen said that the things that influenced her the most and gave her the best insight into happiness were those personal stories, and it definitely rang true today.

We talked about January's subject of Vitality--boosting energy makes you happier! How to boost energy? The group had some great ideas and also some challenges. We are all going to create a few resolutions for January that will boost our happiness, then chart them on our Happiness Resolutions charts and see how we do. As we're working on January's resolutions (now for February since we're getting started a little late), we're also creating our Happiness Commandments--principles for daily living that will help us tackle each day in a happier manner.

Thanks to those of you that came today, and I hope you'll come back again! If you couldn't make it today, know that it was fun and comfortable, and I hope you'll consider attending our next meeting, which will be on February 27th, same location (Eddie Delahunt's Cafe & at 45th and Bell). Now, on to working on my happiness resolutions...

Both Sides of the Coin

I started wondering today whether Facebook makes me happy. Usually it does, I think--I have friends that I wouldn't otherwise be in contact with. Quite a few people I know are hilarious to read about in status updates. I can share my photos and see what everyone is up to. I like those parts.

However, today I read a few things (as I do probably every other day or so) that made my heart hurt. A few things hateful or spiteful, and several things that are just sad or negative. I've always heard that when you input negative things into your brain, negative things are bound to come out. I find that to be true--if I stew all day on negative things I can get myself down.

It makes me wonder whether it is a good idea to look at Facebook so much. That sad, I'm a Facebook addict, so cutting that cord would be quite a challenge.

On the flip side of the coin, something that made me ecstatic today was a personal email from my favorite author, Gretchen Rubin! She read my blog, THEN took the time to send me an email saying she enjoyed my post! I am flattered and excited.

I guess you have to take the good with the bad, right? (Start theme song from The Facts of Life...)

To Happiness (and Beyond)!

2010!

Hi, faithful readers (all three of you)!

It's been a while, I know. It's almost the end of January. 2010. Ten years since Y2K (for which I was in England, without my own personal computer, oblivious to the fright the world was feeling at the impending doom of the switch to a four-digit year in the date).

For the first half of this year, I'll be 30. Three decades old. I've said it before, in person, on Facebook, and probably even on this blog, though I'm too lazy to go back and check that fact: this has turned out to be one of the most amazing years of my life on this planet, and I'm only halfway to 31. I was afraid at first, but for those of you on the cusp of a life-changing number behind your name (and in the words of some of my dearest old friends): IT GETS BETTER.

I'm not much of one for New Year's resolutions. I'll tell you why--I've realized that New Year's resolutions as I learned to make them are too broad for me to succeed. You might be thinking that I should just narrow my scope, but I've decided that making resolutions for the sake of the first day of the year just doesn't work for me. I always fail at keeping them, and then I just feel bad about myself. Isn't that the opposite of the reason we make these resolutions? We mean for them to better us, and for some reason, they don't work for me. So I'm not making any.

I will say, however, that the advent of a new year inspires me. Maybe this is the feeling that motivates some of you to create and keep your resolutions at the beginning of the year. I can't say exactly what it is--the change in the date, maybe, or the fact that the days are getting longer and the sun is out for a few more minutes each day. Maybe it's just the conclusion to the holiday season and the dig-in attitude of preparing for a whole 12 months of something different.

Whatever it is, I'm motivated. To get up earlier, to pursue passions I've put on the shelf. To try something new. I won't say here that my resolution is to write more on this blog--maybe I will and maybe I won't. Tonight I just feel like this is the thing to do.

I have definitely posted before on this blog about The Happiness Project and the new adoration I've found for an author I was introduced to on a whim, Gretchen Rubin. My friend G shared the Happiness Project blog with me last year, and since that first post I read I couldn't get enough. This past week I had the opportunity to meet Gretchen in person when she visited Kansas City on the book tour for her new book, created as a result of a year of studying how to be happier.

After Gretchen spoke to a packed room at the Plaza library, she took a few questions. I couldn't NOT take the opportunity to speak with her some more, so I got up to ask a question. I've joked with friends and family that I'm a little bit obsessed about Gretchen and her project, and I probably speak about it sometimes like a deranged fan (or someone employed by her publicist to talk about the blog and the book). I have just been so moved by what I've read, and by Gretchen herself that I want to share it with everyone I know--I suppose I'm like that about other books I read, or new music I hear, or a story I've just listened to on NPR. I've been incredibly inspired by her thoughts and her project.

What I asked about is whether she's changed anyone's mind about happiness, and she shared an anecdote with me. One person she spoke with told her that he didn't "believe in happiness." I have encountered that point of view myself--people think it's a silly idea to spend time looking for happiness. What Gretchen asked this critic was "do you think you could be happier than you are now?" He had to concede.

I've decided that EVERYONE could be happier, no matter how happy you feel you are now, so I'm starting my own Happiness Project. I've invited everyone I know to join me, whether you can be present or not--I've started a Facebook group to keep you updated on what I'm personally working on for the month, and I hope you'll take a minute to think about it yourself. It would definitely make me happier if you did.

Happy New Year! My hope for this year is more happiness, more growth, and more love. For me AND for you.

The Dark Passenger

I've been watching a lot of television lately. A LOT. Way more than is good for a person—I need to get out of the house more and exercise, and see people in real life. As a child I was limited to one hour of television per day, and so I had to choose so carefully that watching an hour of television meant something special. Now I can sit and stare for hours at the television, and even if there isn't really anything on I can still sit there for hours and hours, rotting my brain.

My current favorite show is Showtime's Dexter. If you haven't watched it, you should—that is, if you like detective-type stories with a twist (and if you like irrationally attractive lead characters). Dexter is a serial killer, but he works for the Miami Metro Police Department. He also only kills bad guys. He's quite lovable, as serial killers go.

I've just finished watching the second season, watching episodes "on demand" when I please (which is pretty much as many hours as I have at home in a day). Dexter has been discovering the story of his childhood, and learning what makes him what he is. He talks a lot about what he calls "the dark passenger," something that lives in his mind or his soul and drives him to do what he does. In an episode I watched recently, he spoke about his passenger like an addiction:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=toYzUtZdYUk

Sometimes I recognize a kind of darkness in myself—not in a serial killer way, or a heroin addict sort of way, but kind of a cloud over my consciousness. I think there are probably lots of people in the world that feel this way from time to time—some more than others. Mine's kind of a melancholy…I feel like listening to my sad songs, and hope for rainy days, and kind of wallow in it a little bit.

Now, before my mom freaks out (she reads my blog sometimes and gets nervous—hi mom!), you should all know that I'm not going off the deep end—I think most people avoid talking about feeling this way, and we shouldn't. I think we all have dark days, even if they're just a little rainy. Some people have to fight it more than others, but don't we all go through bouts of gloom now and then? Why is it so scary to talk about?

Sometimes I like to wallow in it a little bit—on rainy days, or cold, dreary afternoons, or even beautifully clear days when autumn seems just around in the corner. It makes me feel creative, nostalgic, even human. Because music means so much to me, I usually have certain songs I go to when I'm feeling a little dark, and this week I decided to create a sad songs play list. I've mentioned this before here, and talked about songs that speak to me, but I spent some time this week talking about sad songs—with friends and coworkers—and started to flesh out my list.

I think my definition of sad songs is different than some people's—and I can't even really put my definition into words very easily. It's not just sad lyrics (though that helps). It's also not just emotive music (but that helps, too). It's a general overall feeling I get while listening. I'm sure some of the songs are sad for me because they remind me of someone else, or some other time, and maybe that's why some people's suggestions haven't seemed sad to me at all—they remind that person of a person or time when they felt sad, and that's why the song has so much meaning.

I'd love to hear your sad song suggestions—and the list is getting a little long to publish here, but let me know if you'd like a copy of it. And here's looking to sunnier days ahead.

Fair

I've started several different blog posts lately, but I haven't posted any…I think it's because my mind is changing and shifting faster than I can find the time to actually finish a post and put it in this space. As I look back at my drafts I marvel a bit at what I was thinking that day and wonder how I would have finished the post I started. Sometimes it makes me feel a little bit schizophrenic.

That said, I'll try to finish this one before I get distracted and forget the point I was trying to make.

We've all heard it, and probably most of us have said it, either as a joke or seriously to someone we know: "Life isn't fair."

Obviously that's true—how can life be fair? We've developed rules and regulations in the legal system to create a semblance of "fairness," but really, can anything truly be fair? My friend Aimee and her law school buddies discuss things like this and I listen…changing the location of a trial, for example, to make it more "fair" for the plaintiff in a personal injury case. Does that make the case any less fair for the defendant?

I remember my parents deliberately doing things to make life more fair for me and my sister, but also hearing that life wasn't fair, and that was something I needed to learn. I have great friends who love nothing more than working the system to get a deal, which always strikes me as slightly unfair to people who don't have the gumption or the know-how to skate around the rules, but then again, aren't those opportunities there for anyone who wants to take them?

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Warning: Possible spoiler ahead for those who have NOT finished reading the Twilight series and may want to avoid hearing something to ruin the story.

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So, I've been reading those vampire books, the ones everyone seems to be reading these days—Stephenie Meyer's Twilight 4-book series. I'm in the 4th book, but not very far. The heroine, Bella, is in love with two boys—who happen to be a vampire and a werewolf (don't laugh too hard—I am a sucker for fantastical stories). Most people I've talked to about these books have been rooting for the main character's vampire love, Edward, to win her over and for the two to live happily ever after, but I'm not convinced.

I myself am more of a Jacob girl (Jacob's the werewolf whom Bella ALSO loves, just not in the same was as Edward). For whatever reason, I've found myself on Jacob's side. I feel like Bella and her vampire are silly, and making bad choices, and that she should stop being such a TEENAGER and think about the realistic implications of her choices. I don't know if there is any way for this fictional love triangle to resolve itself so that all the parties (any of the parties?) would feel it was fair. I suppose I'll have to see what I think at the end.

Fairness comes with a bias, and maybe this is what our parents meant when they told us the world was not fair—fairness is in the eye of the beholder. Obviously if I feel I am getting the shorter end of the stick (translated: if what I hope for isn't happening), I'm going to think the outcome isn't fair. I'm going to be more likely to overlook the fairness aspect if the chips fall in my direction.

I still find myself thinking to myself, quite often, "That's not FAIR!" I probably don't say it quite in those words, or say it out loud at all, but plenty of things make me think it: a co-worker being overlooked for a promotion because he or she doesn't know the right people or move in the right social circles; the mistreatment of a dinner companion by a restaurant employee; a troubling late-night email from a friend that causes me angst enough to craft a well-thought reply, only to be brushed off in the sobering light of day.

I suppose part of the problem is that I WANT the world to be fair, albeit from my skewed point of view. I WANT to do the right thing, and be honest and open and thoughtful, and I want everyone else to be that way, too. I WANT people to feel whole and happy, and I'm troubled when I can't do anything to push a friend in that direction. I don't just want things to be fair for me, but I want to make sure that the things I do are fair for others.

Am I wrong to want things to be fair? Is it possible? Can I learn how to stop agonizing over what's fair for everyone, to accept that you can't please all of the people all of the time? How do YOU handle fairness, with your friends, with your family, with your co-workers, with your kids?

Three Decades

6 days from now, I'm going to turn 30.

30!

When I was in elementary school, I remember looking at the high school seniors in the youth group at our church and thinking, "Wow, they have great hair! When I am 18, I will have good hair." When I turned 18, I wondered where my awesome hair was…I felt almost as young and silly as I did when I was admiring those kids from 10 years earlier.

I have never yet felt like a grown-up. Sometimes I act like one, and I bet I fool a lot of people (including my bosses and the bank and people who have given me loans for things), but I don't FEEL like I have become a grown-up, and I'm about to be 30.

30!

I'm not afraid of the number, especially because it DOES feel like just a number. I always wonder what makes a person feel like an adult—it isn't being married, at least not in my case. It isn't owning property or paying all one's own bills. It isn't having a "real" job. Could it be having kids? To my friends with children: does having children make you feel like an adult? Is it not until much later in life, when your own parents are gone, that you begin to feel like an adult?

30 does seem like a milestone, this nice round number, multiple of ten, so I feel like I should do something monumental for it. I thought about buying myself an iPhone, but with the possible enhancements coming from Apple in July, I feel like buying one NOW might make me mad in about four more weeks. There isn't a whole lot I need….so how would you celebrate this milestone, or how did you? Any ideas or warnings for me?