Happiness? Nah. Try Something Easier...

Five things that made you do this yesterday. GO.

Long ago, I did part of the training to become a counsellor. (See future blog post: Fractions of qualifications I possess). During the course, a tutor suggested that happiness was too big an ideal to achieve. Instead of trying to be happy, it was far more realistic to aim for contentment or peace. Happiness was all too fleeting and transitory. It was a sentiment I found myself echoing when I was a Learning Mentor. Working with children going through tough times, I found that focusing on the small, contentment-making experiences was a useful tool as they navigated the harder situations they were in. I would ask them to make a list of five things from the previous day that had made them smile. It was usually hard and they often needed prompting. Did they enjoy a packet of crisps, did they hear a joke on the playground, did they feel relief when they'd done their homework? Over-riding happiness was a big ask, but sparks of positive feeling that made their day a little brighter could be banked for resilience later on.

This was all brought to mind last Wednesday. For no particular reason, I had a really lovely day. My routine was exactly the same as normal - it is my non-writing day in the week - but there was nothing that stood out as being brilliantly exciting or marvellous. On paper, it was run of the mill. Weight Watchers, then Costa, then food shopping, then home, then lunch, then prep something to read at writing group, then writing group, then train home and bed. It's the same every week, with writing group being a fortnightly event. Yet last Wednesday, I was buzzing. 

I do know why, really. I'm not ignorant of what went on. But putting it into words makes it seem inconsequential. Some really small stuff happened that made me feel perky. When I explain it, it won't seem that big a deal. But by noticing it at the time, it was as though I was choosing to have a good day. I was choosing contentment. Let me fill you in.

Click the link if you want to singalong too. 

On my drive to Weight Watchers, I was listening to Radio 2. I usually end up hitting the motorway just as Pause for Thought is kicking off. Fair play to fans of the segment, but it doesn't really float my boat. Last Wednesday, however, I must have left a little later. As I drove down the slip road, Jane Wiedlin's Rush Hour came on. I haven't heard it for ages. I shouted 'YES' to myself and cranked up the volume. I arrived at WW twenty minutes later, buoyed up and feeling positive. It didn't matter how much weight I hadn't lost when I'd had the best singalong on the way. (And I mean the BEST singalong. I have no doubt that other drivers will have assumed I was a professional performer. There could have been no other conclusion to draw when they saw me belt it out.)

Later on I was in Costa, to have my first cup of tea of the day and make my shopping list. I usually eat one of their Veggie Pots. A not un-tasty pot of scrambled egg, mushroom, beans and cheese. It's filling and low in calories - a good choice after having my head filled with healthy food messages during the previous hour. But last week, there were no Veggie Pots. I wasn't starving, so it was fine. I could have managed but then I thought, sod it. The sausage bap looked good. Turns out, it tasted good too. I had the nicest brekkie and relished every mouthful. My day was going from strength to strength.

A heart shaped pizza feels like
the right way to celebrate 29
years of periods. Or any shaped pizza.

That evening my writing group was a blast. This isn't always the case. It is always useful, no matter what, but alongside the value it provides, it can be nerve wracking and stomach churning. Sharing new work and hearing honest opinions from a variety of people can be tough. Last Wednesday, there were a lot of apologies from regular members and only three of us made it to the group. I guess the reduction in potential critics could be the root of why it was fun, but also the fact that alongside the writing, there was more room for chat. I spent over two hours with a couple of women who had been complete strangers this time last year. The topic of books and writing opened up into chat about relationships, sexual politics, and periods. (That one was all me. It was the 29th anniversary of the start of my periods that night. It would have been remiss not to mark the occasion!) We nattered away, putting the world to rights, and overran by twenty minutes. I walked back to the station with a spring in my step. 

Sitting on the train, I recognised that I'd had a really good evening. More than that, I'd had a really good day. No seismic events had taken place, I'd not achieved some marvellous milestone that I'd been working towards. When it boils down to it, I'd heard an old song, eaten a sausage bap, and had a natter with some likeminded people. That's the essence if it. No biggie. But recognising the things that bring joy or contentment, can turn a run of the mill day into an utter delight. Since Wednesday I've been trying to make more of an effort to stop and notice the small stuff. I don't think I need to follow my Learning Mentor advice and literally make a note of five things that have made me smile. But pausing for a second to two and acknowledging that those positive things have happened, cannot be a bad thing. And the more mini-contentment-makers that get spotted - whether it be baps, songs, or natter - the more within reach over-riding happiness might be. Who knows? Maybe not me, but it's worth a thought. 

Have a lovely week, folks.