Happiness Matters

March 21, 2018

Happiness is…continued

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Happiness is…. continued

 

There are lots of ways to help ensure our happiness is…. continued. Here are some more ideas that have occurred to me.

Find someone to love, who loves you unconditionally. You don’t have to find your soul mate, or find a partner for life, to be happy. It is enough that you can connect with someone who allows you – even, who encourages you – to be fully yourself, and who accepts you as you are.

Eating good food. This can be simply a matter of finding a nice plate, putting lots of different things on it, blessing it, and eating slowly, taking time to taste each mouthful. Slowing down, and taking time to eat well, re-energises our whole life.

Laugh when others expect you to be upset. To demonstrate that you are not bothered by negativity, either choose to ignore it or laugh it away. Do that, and soon, negativity will leave you alone.

Take exercise every day. I used to say, “I’ll swim twice a week….tomorrow, I promise….no, not today…!” I spent a lot of time thinking about going, and worrying that I should, instead of simply getting on with it. Now, I decide and simply go and do, because I know I’ll feel better afterwards.

Get outside at least once a day.

Give your worries over to the angels for a while, knowing that all surrender is beneficial, to allow the real best outcomes to surface and work around you more easily.

You can find more tips for happiness in my latest book, Happiness Matters, which is full of tried and tested ideas for allowing more happiness into our lives. It is available from Amazon, Waterstones and all good retailers.

Thanks so much for reading.

 

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March 19, 2018

Happiness is…

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Happiness is….

Happiness has a varying quality, as dependent on the time of day as the seasons of the year and whether we enjoy our work today or would rather be reading a good book or having a snooze.

But, just for a bit of whimsy, here are some things that I think help to make us happy, or at least, happier today.

Peace to listen and be quiet; but not so much peace that we feel lonely.

Time to reflect, to check that we are content with what we are doing in this moment.

The time to relax and do nothing. We live in a culture that sets so little store on rest for the sake of enjoyment; and yet, if we cannot relax and be content, why not?

The confidence to state our case clearly and calmly until we know we have been heard.

The confidence to choose what we want to be, to have or to do, without worrying unduly about what we think others expect from us. Prioritising our own wishes will, at the end of the day, save a great deal of personal grief and silent betrayal. I’m not sure who it was who said, ‘Failure to please oneself is not merely betrayal; it is the highest betrayal.’

The courage to respect our decisions and, having decided, to follow through with them.

Remembering to laugh as much as possible.

The ability to be flexible, without becoming upset. We may be interrupted by the phone, by our domestic duties, by the front door bell ringing. And sometimes, this helps us to switch away from preoccupations which…let us say, might not be the most helpful.

The ability to regroup.

Thanks so much for reading.

 

 

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March 9, 2018

No more finger food

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No more finger food

One of my earlier posts, ‘Forty Years of Finger Food’  lays bare my battle to stop biting my fingernails. And until recently – very recently – it was a battle I despaired of ever winning. As the years pass, it takes longer for hands to heal, and for cuts, bruising and split nails to recover.

Alfred Stevens – The Letter

But – thanks to reading this book, I actually feel as if I am approaching the end of this particular battle.

It’s time to let go of stuff that gets in the way. It is silly to make my life any more difficult or painful than it already is. In fact, I really want to get beyond any ideas of difficult or painful, into much more enjoyable pursuits. Having any habit that ties us down to certain worries or preoccupations is really a huge waste of energy and time; which, at my time of life I really don’t want to waste on pointless worrying. How much better to just let go and allow nature to do what it does best, to heal and allow all to be left alone.

Why would Jackie’s experiences help me with that? Well, she was an ‘ordinary’ woman who, one day, stopped biting her nails simply because she decided to. She did a whole lot else besides. She, in that way, was just like me. And just like her, I can stop, so I have. Finally. No hypnotism or special potions required.

Thanks for reading, and for all your comments.

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March 6, 2018

Stuck in the house

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Stuck in the house

The last few days have been strangely peculiar – myself, husband and daughter all stuck in the house because of the weather, kept away from our usual pursuits – in which eventuality I have come off best, since I work from home and have become – alarmingly? – domesticated in the last few years. We have been cheek by jowl, prowling, almost, at the constraints imposed on us by gales, ice and endless snow. When the snow finally stopped, on Thursday evening after forty-eight hours, the silence was almost eerie.

And yet, it is the kind of scenario I am quite comfortable with. We, after all, have enough food, warmth and each other’s company, so what’s not to love? Perhaps the feeling of being trapped, again, is a bit edgy; or perhaps, I can be reassured, since we are all, in the same sense, trapped by the weather.

My health begins to suffer from being so sedentary, my kidneys complaining loudly, and my head needing somewhere to take surplus energy. There have been arguments. But also, rare opportunities to be together and to talk in more depth and come to renewed understandings about all kinds of things. It is important, I know, to keep talking and listening, to keep taking change on board and being accepting.

I hope you have all been all right, while the wind and snow have been blowing and drifting, keeping the cars off the road and ourselves away from our usual routines.

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February 13, 2018

A wasted opportunity

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A wasted opportunity.

We’ve been hearing a lot about the behaviour of certain people in the public eye, all of whom will remain nameless because I don’t wish to cast particular nasturtiums in anyone’s direction. Doing so tends to obscure any meaningful debate with lots of muddy water.

I rarely listen to BBC radio 2 at lunchtime, because so often, they throw deliberately contentious issues open for discussion, which seems to routinely end in bouts of heated argument. I don’t particularly favour that approach to debate, because, I feel that if you wish to persuade someone to a different point of view, it is more useful to listen well and talk quietly.

But a particular type of person seems to defend what I would consider to be obnoxious behaviour in the public sphere, with the argument that goes, ‘This was merely a typical, ordinary response of an ordinary bloke/ess down the pub, who was probably having a chat with his/her mates on a Friday night….’ and therefore his or her forced resignation, departure from public office, is out of all proportion to the perceived offence, tweet, post on FB, etc, which seems to have caused so much upset among the general populace, and the unreasonable leftist press in particular.

Yes, perhaps a single, offensive tweet is excusable, and perhaps it is the result of a bit too much bevy. Perhaps, from the point of view of an educated, middle class, white male who has – let’s face it – been part of the system that he and his ilk have fashioned and benefited from for eons, one remark should of course be excusable. But…

I have been accused of being unreasonable – a long time ago – when I have responded angrily to a single, jocular comment, of course meant in fun, but which I have found deeply upsetting. Probably because one single jocular comment from one person is probably the latest of about three thousand irritations that have accumulated over the course of several years, one more pebble of discomfort to add to the collection in my shoes…

That I no longer rise to offensive comments is not intended to suggest that offensive people may, each in their own way, contribute their pennyworth of offensiveness to the general discourse and expect to be excused. Racism, sexism, disable-ism, double standards and unkindness deserve to be called for what they are, and kindness, toleration and peace are always worth encouraging.

Try telling the single mum with three kids living on benefits that a ‘scrounger’ comment from a local official was only meant in fun. Try telling a bulky young man that comments about his size are only banter. Try telling a woman who has been for seventeen job interviews that her position is laughable. To those who have to battle the system every day, every gesture of kindness is appreciated. And every joke at someone’s expense is a wasted opportunity to be kind instead.

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February 7, 2018

The price of social conformity

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The price of social conformity

It seems rather sad to me that, in an age where it is becoming increasingly unacceptable to discriminate against individuals for any reason in the social sphere, neonates are not, apparently, always to be embraced in the same way.

Pre-birth testing, in which a range of genetic anomalies is screened for in early pregnancy, is not 100% reliable, but is the small percentage of ‘false positives’ an acceptable margin to eliminate non-mainstream presentations? And how much does society lose as a whole, in firstly, our acceptance of the principles of screening for their own sake, and secondly, from the loss of the gifts that accrue to society when we live with and encounter difference?

Ethical questions such as these will not go away any time soon. Meantime, we need to ask ourselves how far we value conformity, and to question how far we are prepared to accept medical screening advances that carry a sting in the tail. How far are we prepared to accept the rights of ‘society’ or ‘medical convention’ to dictate outcomes? How strong will we need to be to resist the pressures of our peers and our families to conform? And what do we lose in our insistence on ways of life that exclude individual traits that happen to occur in a minority of the population?

Is it acceptable, in an age where we pride ourselves on being more tolerant and open, to put certain families and individuals into the spotlight in this way, simply because medical screening is increasingly widespread and risk free? If we are lucky enough not to have such risks running in our families, it is easy enough to say, “Yes, of course…!” but in families where certain traits are well known and recurrent – Huntingtons, for example – is it fair to impose that kind of social expectation?

Individual choices impact on society in surprising ways, and the cumulative effect of individual choices to proceed with terminations of, say, Downs fetuses, may, indirectly cause society to become less robust, less tolerant of difference. Compare the ‘rain forest’ model of life, in which many different aspects live with and among each other, with the ‘plantation’ model, in which only certain traits are encouraged, and the others are screened out as ‘undesirable’ or ‘unnecessary’. I worry that, since we do not know all the relevant variables in this debate, we may be making decisions now that have a significantly adverse impact on social provision and attitudes in the future. If we screen out genetic traits, might we also screen out other traits that we deem less than desirable?

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February 2, 2018

Lessons learned from writing

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Lessons learned from writing

My first book, ‘Trapped’

is my first baby, with which I am well pleased, and which shares more hopeful lessons learned from decades of misery. It was a very challenging work to produce – and it very nearly didn’t get written; it would have been so easy to simply turn my head away from the challenge and say, ‘Can’t be bothered’ – but I did pick up the gauntlet that was left lying there, and learned a great deal in the process. I’ve often said, if one other person has also been helped, that has made the whole ordeal worthwhile.

But in some ways, ‘Trapped’ is only a first step. It represents a coming to terms with things, a decision to put away yearning, and start living; a resolution to put an end to simply existing and start moving forward, creating things more consciously. Its narrative ends at the point where coming to terms – what do they call it, a coming of age? – has been reached. But having come to terms, we then need to move forward – and fast, if we have spent so many years simply dawdling on the side-lines. There is living to catch up on.

Which is where my second book comes in. In ‘Happiness Matters’

I had ten years to refine the lessons which remind me, over and over again, that I can only hope to be helpful to others if I can find it in myself to be happy first.

I can’t hope to find any of the answers, or any emotional or spiritual sustenance, unless I learn first, to do, and say, and be, what I would like. Which is not an invitation to a life of hedonistic indulgence; I would soon get bored with that. But it does recognise that the only things worth doing are those that come from sincerity, joy and contentment. So happiness within ourselves is not the outcome, as much as the spring-board that gives life to our most relevant, worthwhile actions. I’m glad to remember that, again, today.

Thanks for reading, and for all your support.

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January 31, 2018

Spring weather

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Spring weather

A recent trip north to see my family, to say hi to Mum, finds her ensconced in her slippers, reading a not very good book – which she is determined to finish – and the rest of my family hard at work on household chores or employment elsewhere. A big house takes a lot of tending.

To join in the spirit of the gathering, I have also brought my work, which means that after an amazing two-hour drive – through torrential rain between Edinburgh and Kinross and then out onto quiet roads in bright, calm sunshine – we all now sit in companionable peace, not needing to be entertained but all pleased and doing our own thing. I am glad to be able to report that Mum is settled, and with her new glasses and finally sleeping well, she looks and seems better than in about two years. Come to think of it, since before my father died, and before all those notaries – my mother, in jest, refers to them as notary 1A, 1B, 2A, 2B, 3A and 3B… – started variously raising our hopes and dashing them.

In the legal morass there have been several heroes and heroines – thank God! – foremost among them my eldest sister, and my mother, who has borne it all, through intense grief, with courage and her trademark sardonic stoicism.

It is wonderful to be here now, and to reflect that all is growing into new beginnings, just as the Spring is about to take hold. I have high hopes for 2018, and not just because all our legal troubles are – hopefully – coming to a close, but because, unexpectedly, we have all weathered them so well and come through stronger, more peaceful and more kind with each other. For which I am so grateful.

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January 29, 2018

The last two years

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The last two years

Since my father died – in March 2016 – and my brother died in October 2016 – my life, the last two years of my gentle, unassuming life has been held rather in abeyance by legal minefields – estate in three countries, family in three countries, and notaries who prove reluctant to communicate, listen or act with what I would call dispatch. Thankfully, all that – all that, and so much more – is almost – finally – nearly finished. So now, maybe I can build new memories of my father and brother, unencumbered by the pain of legal decrapitude.

It is really quite sad to reflect that the last two years have been blighted by thoughts of notaries, clerical requirements, your word against mine, apostilles, trips to Belgium – at least a dozen – and endless phone-calls interspersed with pained waiting.

I have learned a very great deal from the entire process: what really matters, how to wait, how to listen more fully and be present to the gifts in every situation, how to deal with other people’s confused agendas, how to … live well while all is in abeyance and threatening to unravel. These are not gifts I expected to receive from the confusion that first greeted us, and I am grateful for the opportunities to learn. But…

I am also grateful that now, my sisters, my mother and I can grieve. At last. And say adieu properly, remembering my family fondly.

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January 26, 2018

Time and tide wait for no woman

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Time and tide wait for no woman

Time and tide wait for no woman…. Just occasionally – Not at all often, I am pleased to note – I encounter comments about my book, ‘Trapped’ along the lines of ‘miserable book, miserable git’ or words to that effect.  Not that I mind – different strokes for different folks; and these days I’m more likely to smile at that, than get upset.

‘Trapped’ took me four years or so to write, and was first published in hardback in 2014.  In the intervening period my hopes, attitudes and beliefs have undergone several revolutions.  I guess I’m hardly an impartial witness, though readers can also scan my web content to find my second book, ‘Happiness Matters’ a modest tome about how to be happy.  So I can’t be that much of a miserable git these days.  The test would be whether such comments as these reduce me to an indignant, grumbling mess.  They don’t.

What we are, who we are and what we think about what matters in life, are facets that are constantly evolving.  There is not much I would wish to alter about my books, or my writing, but all things change, and writing ‘Trapped’, my sincere attempt to reflect on my first forty years of life, changed me, and changed my attitudes to life in general, and my life in particular.  I learned a lot from the process, mostly, about the importance of doing our best, and of being as happy as possible more of the time.  Valuable lessons that have empowered me to move forward.  I can’t say I would write or do anything else differently, or speculate how my life might have turned out if I had opted to become a visual artist, say, or stayed on working as a solicitor.

The publishing industry calls memoir, ‘narrative non-fiction’ which is a very polite way of saying that the content is largely true, but reads like a novel and will probably contain some plot holes and a few examples of poetic license.  But after ten years, the truths that held true when we first wrote THE END to finish our memoir, have probably changed, as will the authors themselves.

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