Happiness is a Decision

 This week's quote reads, "Happiness is a decision, not fate."

And I see what they mean, up to a point. Good things will happen and bad things will happen, but how we respond to them is up to us. We can choose to be at the mercy of our emotions, being blown hither and thither by the winds of fate. Or we can choose to "make the best of it" (or the worst of it) by how we respond.

For example, I have been feeling pretty sorry for myself in the last ten days - I have shingles, and it is very painful. But every day I have tried to find something to be grateful for  - my District has been incredibly supportive; I was sent some beautiful flowers and no less than four get well cards; I have been told to take two weeks off work (which is why there wasn't a blogpost last week) and so have not set my alarm. As a result of which I've been sleeping nine or ten hours a night - I must have needed a rest! Above all, I am grateful for my husband, who has picked up the slack and done the week's shop etc in my place.

A popular theory is that shingles is triggered by over-work, or by trying to cram too many things into too little time. And I've realised that was exactly what I have been doing. I was overtired, overstressed and out of balance.

But I've worked out how to make the changes necessary to bring my life back into balance, and I'm grateful for that too. This illness has been a sharp reminder to take better care of myself, because I'm not in my thirties any more...

Of course, there will be situations in our lives where it is so hard to find a silver lining - when we lose a loved one, for example. Our grief will be deep and real, and has no time limit. But in most situations, there is something we can be happy about (or at least, grateful for), if we look hard enough.

Why Reason is Important

When I first read this week's quote, by Austrian philosopher, Karl Popper, I was doubtful about it. It reads, "The do-gooders are the real enemies of an open society."

Luckily, it is my practice to try to discover the actual words of the quote, rather than depending on Google to translate them correctly from the German (although, to be fair, if often does a good job). And discovered that the quote comes from his book, The Open Society and Its Enemies, and that his argument is not a simple dismissal of the works of "do-gooders". 

Instead, he seems to be advocating the primacy of reason over emotion, to which, as a Unitarian, I have to give serious consideration. Here is another, somewhat longer quote, from the same book: "Aestheticism and radicalism must lead us to jettison reason, and to replace it by a desperate hope for political miracles. This irrational attitude which springs from intoxication with dreams of a beautiful world is what I call Romanticism. It may seek its heavenly city in the past or in the future; it may preach 'back to nature' or 'forward to a world of love and beauty'; but its appeal is always to our emotions rather than to reason. Even with the best intentions of making heaven on earth it only succeeds in making it a hell - that hell which man alone prepares for his fellow-men."

Hmm. I'm not sure I entirely agree with him - I believe there is room for hopes and dreams in our lives, otherwise what would be the point? Yet at the same time, I can reluctantly understand what he seems to be saying: that when those hopes and dreams are founded on emotions rather than reason, they may not have a very good chance of success. I believe we need a mixture of hopes and dreams with hard-headed reason and commonsense, if we are to move towards a better society for all of us.

It reminds me of the oft-misquoted words of Samuel Johnson, from 1775: "The road to hell is paved with good intentions." What Johnson actually said, commenting on "the unhappy failure of pious resolves", was, "Sir, hell is paved with good intentions."

So perhaps our take-away from this should be not to rush into blindly "doing good" without a wider and reasoned consideration of all the possible consequences of our actions. Which may be a colder way to live, yet ultimately, it may do more good than the alternative.

Holding It All Together

The last few weeks have been emotional for me, for both happy and sad reasons. There has been the joy of attending Summer School, which never fails to refresh my spirits and feed my soul, and  a peaceful week away in my beloved Peak District with my husband.

I have also been happy to know that my children-no-longer-children are embarking on new phases of their lives - my daughter is moving into a flat with her boyfriend as she starts her final year at University in Sheffield, and my son is spending an Erasmus year studying at the Charles University in Prague. I could not be prouder of them or happier for them. They have grown up into unique, strong, independent young people, and that is good.

But I am also suffering from empty nest syndrome - most of the time, I'm fine, but just occasionally, I miss one or the other or both of them like fury, and this boils over into tears. Daft, I know, but I cannot help it. And I am mourning the loss of my cousin, who died in June, and of a dear friend, who died at the beginning of the month. Both were in their fifties, both taken too young. Both much missed.

On Saturday, I spent the morning at a training day about leading a good funeral service - part of the Rites of Passage course I'm currently running in the District. It was wonderfully led by my friend and colleague, Ant Howe, and included a short memorial service, during which we could remember our own lost loved ones, while he held the space for us.

I went straight from there down the M40 to attend the joyous handfasting of a dear friend and her lovely OH. The main ceremony was conducted outside, according to the Wiccan tradition, and was followed by morris dancing and a delicious shared meal. It was a truly blessed occasion.

What I am in awe of is the capacity of human beings to hold all these emotions together at one time, and not actually burst! Over the last few weeks, my mood has swung between joy and sorrow, contentment and grief, often in the course of one day. It is so lovely (even if it is sometimes hard) to feel what I am feeling, and not to have numbed it with alcohol. I celebrated my second soberversary at the beginning of the month, which is a source of lasting contentment.

And so I am grateful, even for the hard bits, because I know I would not feel the pain of loss so keenly, if I did not love greatly.

Music of the Heart

Human beings are complicated organisms - we have bodies, we have minds and we have souls. In order to grow into the best people that we can be, we need to nourish all of them. In religion, our bodies often get ignored; all the emphasis is on what we think and believe and feel. But our bodies need nourishment too - we have to eat a balanced diet, exercise regularly, get enough sleep and so on. If we neglect them, we will become unhealthy, and all of a sudden everything seems twice as difficult, like pushing a hippopotamus uphill. If we look after our bodies, they will look after us.

And our bodies have feelings of their own. If I am sad, I don't want reasons or explanations or even spiritual insights; I just want a cuddle. And it is my body - through my sense - which gives me access to a whole world of beauty and spirituality. This morning, on my run, the feel of the sunlight on my skin, the taste of cool water, the wonderful variegated colours of the autumn leaves, and the sound of birdsong combined into one joyous paean of praise for the universe. Through what we see and hear, smell, touch and taste, we can be transported from our mundance lives into another dimension.

Bodies have their own memories too - for example, have you ever been transported to another time and another place by a smell or a sound or a taste? I only have to hear the first chord of The Air That I Breathe by the Hollies to be back in 1974, fourteen years old and very sad. I cry every time I hear it - can't help it! Even though the circumstances of my life have changed beyone recognition, and the emotional scars of young love have long healed, my fourteen-year-old self is somewhere in there, and reacts when she hears that song.

image: youthvoices.net

Music can affect us in many ways, some obvious, some not so obvious. For example, when I am driving, and get stuck in a traffic jam, I automatically switch the radio on to Classic fm, which I find soothing; it helps me to keep my patience and not get wound up about the delay. And when I am on the M45, which is a short stretch of generally empty motorway, I like to put on something fast-paced and exciting, like Highway Star by Deep Purple, and put my foot down. In fact, I am very careful not to listen to music like that when I am on a busy road, because it subconsciously makes me drive faster.

Music has the power to move us, to change our mood. This is well-recognised by the people in charge of public spaces - shops, restaurants, pubs, for example. The organisation Music Works has conducted research about the effect of music on shoppers, and the results are startling. 90% of the people surveyed said they were more likely to recommend a store that plays music they like to their friends and family. 76% of retailers believe that they can positively influence the behaviour of customers through playing music; and 60% of retailers agreed that playing music not only increases staff productivity, but also makes the staff more friendly towards customers. Furthermore, 84% of customers like shops that play in-store music, and 77% of people say that music is an important factor in creating the ideal atmosphere in-store.

Personally, I found this research startling - I actively dislike the loud music in most stores these days, but I guess I must accept that I am in a small, out-of-date minority!

Music can also be used more subtly to stir people's emotions. For example, who remembers that marvellous moment in the Humphrey Bogart film Casablanca, when the singer in Rick's Bar begins to sing the Marseillaise to drown out the Nazi singing on the other side of the bar? I am getting tingles down my spine just thinking about it. And I am sure that most people could name particular instants in films where the music - often a song - has a profound effect on the mood of not only the people in the film, but also on the cinema audience. Another example might be the singing at football matches, which unites fans in a bond of partisanship. And of course, it can also be used less harmlessly, to control the hearts and minds of those who hear it.

What is it about music that has the power to thrill us, to move us to tears or laughter, to calm us? I have often wondered what it is about music that elicits such emotions. Philosophers and biologists have asked the question for centuries, noting that humans are universally drawn to music. It consoles us when we are sad, pumps us up in happier times, and bonds us to others, even though listening to an iPod or singing "Happy Birthday" does not seem necessary for survival or reproduction.

An article in Scientific American comes to the following conclusions: "that music's influence over us may be a chance event, arising from its ability to hijack brain systems built for other purposes such as language,emotion and movement. Music seems to offer a novel method of communication rooted in emotions rather than in meaning. Research shows that what we feel when we hear a piece of music is remarkably similar to what everyone else in the room is experiencing. Songs facilitate emotional bonding and even physical interactions such as marching or dancing together, and thus may help cement ties that underlie the formaton of human societies."

All is know is that it is an important part of my life, and I thank God for it.