Happiness Matters

September 20, 2017

To do a thing badly or not at all

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Is it better to do a thing badly or not at all?

To answer the question, Is it better to do a thing badly or not at all? I take refuge with something I say a lot these days.

It depends.

We need both motivation and caution, bravery and guile. A tag team of two players works well if one has the courage, another focuses on detail.

As I get older and bolder, personally I tend to the view that it is better to do a thing than sit and think about it, or wish I had done it. I hate regrets. I hate saying, ‘If only I’d had the courage to get on with that ….’ and knowing I could have done something to help life turn out differently.

I would rather have a go at something, perhaps starting small until I gain the confidence to attempt something bigger. There is only one way we learn, after all, and that is by making mistakes; by realising that mistakes are only stepping stones, questions to answers we haven’t found yet.

Who would object to us getting a thing wrong? Authors and writers are not in the habit of creative catastrophe, are we? We’re unlikely to burst the dam, to send someone to their death or to motivate someone to evil… That being so, we really have to decide to go ahead one day, to live without having all our ducks in a row, before we know the answers, before we can be sure.

Unlike in real time, where we build a path, then walk along it, in creative attempts, our path – our luck, our outcomes  – are the result of a decision, a choice we make, to do something; at which point, the path comes to meet us as we walk along it. There are no guarantees with that process, except that there is a lot we can learn.

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September 18, 2017

Advantages to working from home

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Advantages to working from home

Harold Harvey, ‘The Letter’ 1937

Yes, there are advantages to working from home. I can work at six in the morning and eleven at night – though not in the same 24 hours. I can hang up wet washing and bring it in if it rains, as it has been doing all summer. TIP: during a long, wet Summer, we need only one clear hour to flap off the worst of the moisture from our clothes.

Working from home, we can also be available for Monday bank holidays when the schools are shut, without having to take a cut in pay, or ask the boss for yet another flexi day. We can make appointments with opticians, dentists and the like, and take delivery of parcels, packets, kitchen cabinets, beds and chairs from Ikea at strange hours. Instead of regretting the 7am – 7pm delivery window, now I just see that as an excuse to write non-stop all day at home. YAY!

We can start and stop when we like, and can do all sorts of things in between, to liven up the day. We can eat when we are hungry, rest when we are tired and take exercise… If I’m sounding a bit biblical, it’s because that’s how it sometimes feels. We can take holidays when we want, and decide to do nothing. Actually, doing nothing is one of the best ways to discover what to do next, and to clarify that we are still on track with our plans.

Would I go back to an office job? I could, probably, if I didn’t have so much to do here. But I’ve always relished my independence, so I prefer working this way.

Thanks for reading!

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September 15, 2017

Disadvantages to working from home

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Disadvantages to working from home

Okay, so we are here working at the computer, and the phone rings. Again. It is someone speaking indistinctly on the line from Delhi or Manila and asking for someone whose name we don’t recognise. Oh, that’s us, is it? Well, no, sorry, not this time.

There’s a knock at the door – would I mind taking this parcel for the bloke upstairs, whom I know is running a small garage on our communal parking lot? Actually, yes, I would mind. He leaves oily footprints on the carpet and there is the remains of an engine abandoned at the back of the downstairs cupboard. So, just occasionally, I send the delivery man on his way. He scowls, I scowl, and we are quits.

“That’s the phone for you, Mum…” Yes, and it’s the twelfth time in as many hours that I have been interrupted – Mum tends to be the first port of call for phones, for doorbells, for deliveries, even if she has something teasing in her head that she would love to write down before she forgets.

“Have you seen my socks? My phone? My charger?” Take the easy way out and ask Mum, she knows! Heavens, yes, I may well do, but does that mean I have to be interrupted? Again?

***

This is a tongue-in-cheek glance at the some of the challenges of working from home. But there is a serious point in it, too. Because, at the end of the day, when the chips hit the fan – that’s not quite the expression, but it will do for now  – only I can decide to put my foot down and say, “You do it / you get it / you phone, you sort it, tidy it, find it.”

And, amazingly, I do that quite often nowadays, when I need to. It’s a very liberating habit to cultivate. And hubby is pleased that I no longer take resort in my martyred dog expression.

What a relief.

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September 13, 2017

Happiness Workshops

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Happiness Workshops

Happiness is one of these life qualities – a life skill? – that eluded me for many years.

It is only with the gradual dawning of my writing career, which started so quietly in June 2007, that I started to really look at what happiness is, what is can be, and how we can all have more of it. I don’t suppose we can have it all the time. If we did, we probably would not be able to see it. But even so, happiness matters. It is important – it imports into our lives meaning, purpose and lots of unexpected outcomes that sadness or worry simply keep at arms length.

Taking the themes I explore in my book, Happiness Matters, I’m writing a series of Happiness Workshops which I can tailor to any particular questions, time frame or hope. I don’t claim to have all the answers or access to particular wisdom – far from it – but there are times when sharing the problems we encounter, we can see in them hopes that may so far have been elusive.

I gain great help and hope in the process of writing, in the insights I discover from quietly asking questions and waiting for answers to percolate. Increasingly, I trust that process to unfold easily what I need to know for the next little while. It has been the work of years, decades even, and there have been some stonking great challenges on the way, but that is all part of the mosaic of living.

I would be happy to hear from anyone wondering if my workshops might work for them.

Email me here or contact me on Facebook or at franmacilvey@fastmail.fm

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September 11, 2017

Keeping our eye on the main chance

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When we work from home, it is vital not only that we work hard – everyone does that – but that we keep our focus on the tasks we are hoping or needing to achieve. Maybe I can illustrate this by taking a look at how I used to work.

“Ho hum, it was nice to see so-and-so, and great to chat. Oh, dear, I’m awfully late, and I’ve SUCH a lot to do before hubby gets home. Better get a move on….”

“Better see what we need in the way of shopping – I can always pop into the supermarket on my way home, I drive past it…”

“I always give daughter a lift, it doesn’t take long, and anyway, I’m awfully bored doing this today. Don’t feel like it.”

Okay, so we all do this sort of thing. But I had also developed the habit of chatting amiably to all and sundry, and actually, they neither wanted nor expected it. Partly that comes from an ancient habit of being ingratiating, but also it comes from not valuing my time well, and from not actually realising that THIS is what I want to do, and by golly, I’m going to do it.

The most successful people in the world are those who get things done… because there are so many ways in which we can be distracted, pulled off course and inveigled into doing things that leave us feeling rather niggled and confused – classic signs that we should not be doing them.

Working for oneself, it really is essential to stay focussed on what we want. That is easier to do when we accept that people will bask in our certitude. They will be relieved to see us actually doing what we want, and being happier as a result.

And, it’s easy to know if I am on target – if it’s all to the good, I feel livelier, happier, and stuff happens much more easily.

Thanks for reading!

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September 1, 2017

The longer we leave it

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The longer we leave it…

We all have these key moments, when we have to do what it is staring us in the face, or go stir crazy.

Like the time I decided, ‘Right, I have to write my memoir. I have to do this, or I’ll die. And, it might kill me in the process – from embarrassment, anxiety, exhaustion, sadness – but God dammit, I’d rather die trying, than die of boredom and depression and regret. If writing this – and going through hell – is what it takes, then fine! I’ll take that chance.

Life always gives us challenges. And the longer we ignore them, block them out, dodge them or make excuses, the harder will be the next tests we face. Similar challenges form a pattern that may be very familiar, and will tend to revisit and repeat, until we get the message that, yes, we do have to deal with this head on. The longer we prevaricate, the greater the challenge grows, just to test our resolve. We have to take our courage in both hands and clamber aboard. The longer we leave it….

But such challenges are offered for a reason: perhaps to allow us to recognise and rework a defeatist pattern, to teach self worth; even, sometimes, to resolve issues have haunted us forever, such as a pattern of failure or settling for painful compromises, never allowing our true colours to shine bright.

In my next non-fiction book, Making Miracles, which is set for release in 2018, I share my dream diary, in the writing and re-reading of which, I recognised repeating patterns that have persisted over lifetimes. These I had to take on board if I wanted to make progress in this life. Luckily, I did, in the nick of time.

So let’s follow our dreams, people! The world needs folks with courage and faith to do what they know they have to. Let’s live like today is our best day.

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August 25, 2017

Failure to please oneself

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Failure to please oneself…

“Maldives sunset silhouettes” by Creative Independence

 

One mantra running going through my head, helps to answer some of my current dilemmas. It has been useful to me lately, thankfully, or else I would find myself very lost.

“….Betrayal of your Self in order not to betray another is betrayal nonetheless. It is the highest betrayal….” comes from Conversations with God Volume 1.

Yes, I know what that means and what it entails for me right now. But it is hard to honour the tasks that have been set for me to do when others’ needs press so much on me and I feel so pulled towards them.

We all have times when we ask, ‘What will happen to that, if I do nothing about it? Will it die without me? What would that death do to those who are relying on me and who are so dear to me? Will it wait a few more years for me to come back to it? Should I allow other’s need to overtake mine, even if that becomes a great fat obligation that I know – I know – is entirely the wrong motivation and will procure and produce little of use. So many questions, each with their own peculiar pain.

I know that doing things because we feel obliged to, is the wrong reason, and, even despite all the work it might entail, is ultimately an empty gesture.

How do I express my love for those I adore, by letting them down?

There is another way to look at this. By doing what I don’t want to do – not yet, though I feel obliged to and might get round to it some day – am I trespassing on someone else’s karma? Am I smudging their path, which is for them to walk? Worse, is that the kind of interference which will come back to bite us both on the ankle? Ouch! I don’t much like the sound of that.

Imagine spending five years – for that is the least time it would take to do this job well – and then to discover that, actually, no-one is pleased or grateful. Even if they are, I probably won’t have been. Better by far to do what I can, when I feel it is the right time. It is hard to trust though, very hard to let go, when I am so used to expressing my love by ‘helping’ others.

There is no going back to the patterns of old, whatever we decide. We can only go forward, doing what our hearts call us to do.

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August 23, 2017

Where do you get your ideas

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Reader question – Where do you get your ideas from?

Writers are asked lots of questions, including, Where do you get your ideas from? and Do you model your characters on people you’ve met?

Our ideas come partly from life, yes, and the small anecdotes that for some reason we recall, even after ten, twenty or even forty years, because they had a sort of sticking quality. Once upon a time, they pierced the grey matter in our heads and have hung on – the incident of the sugar bowl on the terrace, the broken door, cross Mummy, the peculiar scent of those flowers… All that kind of detail finds its way into what we write, one way or another. Doubtless, we are not even aware we may be doing it: But given that we write about who and what we are, that is inevitable.

Do I model my characters on people I’ve met? Sometimes, though I try to only do that deliberately – I may write about my father and share memories of him; If I think of a motherly figure, someone who shares those qualities with me might surface to lend colouring to a short story.

Otherwise, no, I don’t lift people wholesale onto my pages. I am as likely to get my character leads from the world of fiction, and I would like to keep my friends and respect their privacy. In any case, there are as many possible characters and traits as there are atoms in the universe. We hardly need to plagiarise real people, do we?

Though as disciples of the written word we don’t typically end the day smeared in sticky smudges of violent colour and with turps in our hair, neither writing nor authorship are derivative, any more than photography is derivative of art. Writing has its peculiar pleasures, disciplines and creative outcomes. And my characters? Are totally themselves. Where they come from and what they will do, only they can tell me.

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August 21, 2017

Access problems my problem

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Access problems, my problem?

Stairs, Santorini, Greece – image courtesy of Google

 

At our holiday hotel, I forgot – I forgot! – to ask about access, ground floor apartments and all that jazz. It would have been so easy. We booked in April, but I forgot. We found ourselves up several flights of stairs and steps – awkward and without handrails – of hard and unfamiliar marble. Familiar to the blithe locals used to the heat and used to hardness against the sun. Painful to fall on, I’ve no doubt, especially at the head of a flight…. No thanks.

So for a couple of days I hummed and hawed, tottered and prayed until we had worked out a path I could manage alone, without the hovering, worried arm of my beloved other half. Mercifully, no falls happened to cause any lasting damage – and how awkward that would have been.

I just forget, you see. In late middle age – early late age? – I am not as robust, bouncy, or able as I used to be. But because I can get around my home area easily enough I forget that all other places hold unknown hazards that slow me down to a snail’s pace. It is also untrue that my home is safe. In the last three years I have had numerous extremely painful falls, jarring myself on edges that I didn’t see coming, or that appeared unexpectedly in the wrong place. How dare they! They are, each in their way, painful reminders, that ten years is a long time in the life of a mobility-impaired mother. Ten good years, and each year increasingly precious, each pain-free day a more obvious achievement.

I have grown up enough to recognise that I can be happy with what life throws me. Which I do aim to be, increasingly. I find the only way to do that is to go deep within, and focus on what I want and need, and leave others to their own needs.

 

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August 18, 2017

Taking the sprinklers for granted

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Taking the sprinklers for granted

Our holiday resort was, all things considered, a fairly spectacular achievement.

At reception, there arrive at regular intervals, bands of weary and bleary-eyed travellers from all over the globe – Germany, Russia, Britain, The Czech Republic, Poland, the USA. )Which, rather oddly, turns English into the lingua franca, by unspoken mutual consent.)

Trailing gratefully into a cool, marbled reception area and blinking in the heat, they wait to be ushered to their shaded rooms where they can while away the hottest hours, then drift downstairs to select from a mountainous array of food – salads, fruits, fishes and meats, vegetarian specialities and peculiar twists on western favourites – I never tried the scrambled egg with tomato – served in the restaurants or at the bars that dot the outside terraces and the beaches.

Thassos is a Greek island very close to the southern Greek mainland, easy to get around on the main road which rings it, densely wooded, pretty and clinging on round the rocks and mountains that rise from its middle. Lest I should sound as if I embarked on an adventurous tour of the island, I didn’t – it was simply too hot to do anything but the basics.

But, going up the long drive-way to our hotel, marvelling at the profusion of tall Mediterranean pines and palms, I did notice and marvel at the green lawns, kept fresh with an artfully concealed array of ground sprinklers working during the day, their more obvious larger arms spraying in graceful arcs after nightfall. In this arid, dry climate, it is clear that trees are almost venerated and fresh water is very precious. Yet, here for the delight of visitors who stroll past largely oblivious, there were scarlet roses, pale leafed white beauties concealed, and green lawns. So that visitors can feel at home? So that they can feel cossetted in the cool?

It left me feeling peculiarly dislocated: I travel, by and large, to see new things, and yet, it seems that we and our fellow travellers are provided with all the comforts of home – air con, mosquito nets over the windows, refrigeration, generator power, all is laid on to ensure we are happy, even if that costs a great deal to our uncomplaining hosts.

How lucky we were.

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