Happy is Better than Perfect

 This week's quote reads, "I don't want a perfect life. I want a happy life." Me too.

I mean... don't we all? Yet life is messy, chaotic, unpredictable, and we cannot dictate how it will turn out. The one thing we can predict with some certainty is that it will not be perfect. No-one's life is perfect. And so the important thing to realise is that settling for "good enough" will ensure that in the long run, we are far happier than we would be if we were constantly yearning for the "perfect" life.

Perfection is illusive. And elusive. Perfectionism is also what Brené Brown calls "the twenty ton shield" as we struggle for it without ever attaining it. I have blogged about this here. 

I think that the surest path to a happy life is to be content with less-than-perfect. To appreciate the small joys of our daily lives and notice them as they happen. Even when we feel overwhelmed and stressed, it is possible to find small moments of happiness in our day to day lives, if we are sufficiently awake and aware. I try to go for a walk most days and it never fails to lift my spirits to be outside in the natural world. There is always something new and beautiful to notice, even on the greyest day. And when I have finished my day's work, and settle down in my armchair to do some stitching or crochet, I try to remember to notice how lucky I am to have a warm home, enough money, and crafts which absorb me.

I am grateful for my happy life. It is not perfect, but it is absolutely good enough. And so, I am happy.

Actively Seeking Happiness

The 20th century French philosopher, Alain, (real name Émile-Auguste Chartier) once wrote, "You have to want to be happy and do your part thereto. If you persist in the attitude of impartial spectator, merely holding the door open to happiness, only sadness will enter."

I'm not sure I entirely agree with him. Because sometimes, actively seeking happiness can lead to always living in the future (the If Only mindset) and never being content with what is happening to us in the present. Which can lead to great unhappiness... Unless he means that it is in our power to control our reactions to our experiences, and are able to choose to what extent X or Y makes us happy or sad, in which case, I do agree. 

As human beings, we do have a certain amount of control over our reactions. We can learn to be resilient, refusing to be ground down by negative experiences. We can choose to either make the best of a bad situation, or to allow it to crush us. We can also learn to be on the lookout for small moments of wonder and grace in our lives, which will lead to happiness if we choose to appreciate them as they occur.

I can speak to this from immediate personal experience. Yesterday, my husband drove me to Danetre Hospital to have an x-ray and get the final dressing removed from my foot. And I had high (and, on reflection, incredibly naive) hopes about it: I thought that after six weeks, it would be All Better and I would be able to get back to normal, just like that.

And the news was very good. I saw the talented surgeon who did the operation, and both he and I were delighted by the results. The angle between the base of my big toe and the next door one had been 33 degrees; it is now 14 degrees - a massive improvement. In the long term, it's going to be far less painful to walk and to wear shoes.

But, the time to a full recovery is going to be slow, far slower than I had hoped and expected, having no prior experience of such an injury. I still have to sit with my foot elevated except when I'm walking around the house once an hour, I will need to massage the toes once a day for two minutes using E45, and wear trainers inside and outdoors to support the foot. I am only allowed to build up my walking very gradually - 10 minutes the first day, then by 5 minute increments, and no long walks for another three months. I am not allowed to drive for another fortnight, and no distance driving for a further month after that. Plus which, I will need to take a break every hour on a long journey and elevate my foot for 15 minutes. 

Oh, and I should expect some swelling and pain for up to six months... and of course, my toes were really sore for the rest of the day, having had pins removed from both the 2nd and 3rd ones.

My initial reaction was negative: I sat around for the rest of the day, feeling very fed up and sorry for myself. It took a while to get over my disappointment, although on reflection, I should have expected this news. I now understand that the operation was a massive "insult" to my foot (to use my surgeon's term) and that of course the recovery is going to take a while. That I am very lucky to be in a situation where my husband can continue to do the things I can't, and to have a warm and cosy house and a reclining armchair which enables me to work with my foot up.

So I have nixed the pity party and have resolved to be both cheerful and patient in the weeks and months to come, trusting that my foot will heal completely in its own good time. So to that extent, I am following Alain's advice, and being an active participant in my own happiness.

 

The Meeting Place of Fantasy and Reality

 I'm not sure I agree with the 20th century German psychologist, Alexander Mitscherlich, who once wrote, "Happiness is the meeting place of fantasy and reality."

I'm writing this blogpost at the beginning of the season of Advent, which is generally viewed as a season of anticipating the joy of Jesus' birth, or looking forward to spending time with our loved ones. Yet for many people, the Christmas season is not one of joy, of hope - it is rather a time of worry about the expense and how to manage the expectations of others, or a time of loneliness, of feeling left out, when everyone else (apparently, if all the adverts on the TV are to be believed) is having a wonderful time. Or a time of grief, as someone they care about is ill, or as they prepare to spend their first Christmas without a much-missed loved one. Christmas, and the build-up to it, can be really hard for many of us.

I think Mitscherlich is talking about the happiness which occurs when our dreams (our fantasies, if you like) come true. But I believe there is a lot more to true happiness than that. In my view, happiness is not only re-active (by which I mean, it rises in us in response to events outside ourselves). It can also be pro-active; an "inside job", if I can put it that way. Because I believe that the only thing over which we genuinely have control is our own response to the events which happen to us, to the waiting time, the anticipation time, the time of fantasies. To that extent, we can control our own level of happiness, but in no other way.

I have shared before, and will doubtless say again, my belief that "now" - the present moment - is the only time that has any significance whatsoever. The past is over, and cannot be changed, and dwelling on it, either with nostalgia or regret, is a waste of time and emotion. And the future is something which is rushing towards us at a rate of 60 seconds a minute, 60 minutes an hour and 24 hours a day, whether we are looking forward to it, or worrying about it. I do concede that it is important to do at least some planning for future events, but not to the extent that we spend all our time longing for some mythical future time (in fantasies), when everything will be wonderful and we will have all that our hearts desire. Or conversely, worrying about some other mythical future time, when we have lost all that gives our lives savour.

No, it is Now that matters. It is the present that we should be concerned with. Only the present moment is sacred, and whether we are in grief or in joy or in gratitude or in despair, we need to pay attention. Which can be hard, if the present moment is a difficult one. But I find comfort in the belief which C.S. Lewis explains in The Screwtape Letters, that we will be given the inner strength to deal with whatever joy or sorrow comes our way, in the present. But not the strength to cope with worrying about possible future alternatives, most of which will probably not happen.

So as we enter this season of Advent, may we remember that happiness is an inside job, that it is within our power to experience our lives moment by moment. I love the lines in Rumi's famous poem, The Guesthouse: "Every morning a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor. Welcome and entertain them all."

I believe that this is the route to true happiness - the ability to appreciate what we have today, now, this minutes. For very little lasts forever. And we need to also accept that most events will happen anyway, whether or not we anticipate them with joy, wait for them with impatience, or actively dread their arrival. Truly, happiness is an inside job.

TGIF: Trust, Gratitude, Inspiration and Faith

I completely agree with the German humourist, poet, illustrator and painter, Wilhelm Busch, who once wrote, "Happiness often comes from paying attention to small things, unhappiness often from neglecting small things."

Because I believe that being open to, aware of, awake to the "small things" around us, the small experiences which happen to us, can give us a great and very useful sense of perspective. Let me give you a recent example: yesterday, I was driving to Danetre Hospital for my pre-op assessment, and feeling moderately terrified. But the autumn foliage on the trees by the side of the road was absolutely glorious to see - all the shades of yellow, orange, brown, copper, bronze, burgundy and red - and seeing them, appreciating their beauty, soothed my fears immensely.

And during my appointment, the consultant surgeon who is going to do my operation treated me with respect and kindness, explaining clearly what is going to happen, and listening to and answering all my questions. Which helped to pull me out of my fear and to begin to feel a certain quiet confidence that all would be well. 

I'm sure that during the next couple of weeks, I will have regular intervals of fear and trembling, but I also know that my habit of noticing the "small things" will help  to bring me back to myself - the self who has faith that everything will work out okay; that I might be uncomfortable for a few weeks, but in the end, it will have been worth it.

Brené Brown has much to say about the benefits of gratitude. She writes in The Gifts of Imperfection, "We need both happiness and joy.... But in addition to creating happiness in our lives, I've learned that we need to cultivate the spiritual practices that lead to joyfulness, especially gratitude. In my own life, I'd like to experience more happiness, but I want to live from a place of gratitude and joy."

And, "I believe a joyful life is made up of joyful moments gracefully strung together by trust, gratitude, inspiration and faith."

I couldn't agree more. Which is why one of my spiritual practices is an evening gratitude practice - under the heading 'Small Pleasures', I record in my journal at least three things that have made me feel grateful that day. They can be tiny things, such as "Fitbit synced!" or huge things, like the recent birth of my grandson. Or regular quiet pleasures, like "nice, relaxing evening with Maz, Luna, and crochet."

And because I record these small pleasures every day, I have some ammunition to overcome the feelings of dread and fear.... And that conversely, if I did not have a daily gratitude practice, I believe it would be only too easy to get lost in the negativity, thus causing myself unnecessary suffering. So my resolution for the next few weeks is: I will do my best to do all the things the surgeon advises me to do, then trust that everything will work out well.

"Trust, Gratitude, Inspiration, Faith." I commend them to you as a better, more joyful way of living, more sure and reliable than "Thank God It's Friday." 

Running After Happiness

 According to Wikipedia, Adolph Kolping, who lived during the first half of the 19th century, "was a German Catholic priest and the founder of the Kolping Association. He led the movement for providing and promoting social support for workers in industrialised cities while also working to promote the dignities of workers in accordance with the social magisterium of the faith."

He once wrote, "Some people run after happiness and don't know they have it at home." I agree with him, up to a point. It can be very tempting sometimes, or even often, to get trapped in an endless cycle of "if onlys". "If only I had / was / could..." We get seduced into thinking that if only X, Y, or Z would change, our lives would be complete, and finally, finally, we could be happy.

And yes, I agree, that when our lives at any particular moment seem (or are) filled with problems and challenges, it is far more difficult to appreciate the actual minute by minute slices of happiness that may come our way. And for me, there is one outstanding example of this in action:

There is an old story, which was for long years considered to be apocryphal, about how a small group of rabbis in Auschwitz put God on trial, and found him guilty. In 2008, the Nobel Laureate Elie Wiesel told an audience at a Holocaust Educational Trust appeal dinner in London, "I was there when God was put on trial." Which caused quite a stir among Jewish rabbis and academics.

It was reported in The Jewish Chronicle, who interviewed  Wiesel the following week. He said, "Why should they know what happened? I was the only one there. It happened at night; there were just three people. At the end of the tiral, they used the word 'chayav', rather than 'guilty'. It means, 'He owes us something. Then we went to pray."

At the end of its report, The Jewish Chronicle concluded, "The story is the subject of a famous midrash, or biblical commentary. Many people have assumed that the story was a way for those of faith to try to make sense of the Holocaust."

It is the final line of Elie Wiesel's testimony that touches my heart. "Then we went to pray." In spite of the horrific conditions in Auschwitz, in spite of the fact that they had just found God 'chayav' of neglecting them, "we went to pray."

Their faith was too important to them to dismiss it. So they grasped the moment of happiness they could find in that moment, which is what the Kolping quote is about, and went to pray.

I believe that even in the hardest situations, there is always a sliver of happiness to be found, if we are awake enough and aware enough to see it. And that running after future happiness simply doesn't work - all it does is to make us ignore what is happening in the present moment. Which I believe is the only instant when time touches eternity, when the Divine makes itself known to us.

 

The Ingredients of Happiness

 According to the 19th century German Romantic writer, Clemens Brentano, "Happiness is a silent hour, a good book, fun in happy company, and a friendly visit." Google's translation loses the rhythm and rhyme of the original, but that it is the rough meaning....

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I am writing this in on holiday in Vienna, where the second, third and fourth ingredients are present in abundance... We have been blessed with gorgeous sunny weather so far, and have been sightseeing and visiting famous Viennese landmarks. 

Yesterday morning I fulfilled the ambition of a lifetime, when we spent an hour at the Spanish Riding School, watching the Lipizzaner stallions being taken through their paces - only a training session, because the cost of a performance is prohibitive - which I have longed to do ever since reading Mary Stewart's Airs Above the Ground as a teenager. Even the training was amazing to watch, because the riders scarcely move at all, yet the horses perform complicated movements, responding to invisible signals. We didn't see any "airs above the ground", but the training session did include the diagonal trot, pirouettes, and a fiery piaffe. Just gorgeous.

We have had coffee and cake in one of Vienna's most famous coffee houses, Demel's, and have found a nearby restaurant called the Esterhazy Keller, which also appears in the all the guidebooks. On the first evening, Maz ordered the Wienerschnitzel (made with pork, not veal) and was slightly disconcerted when *two* huge schnitzel appeared rather than one... 

It's a special holiday for us, as we will be celebrating our Ruby Wedding on Sunday... but in another way, it is like all the holidays we've ever taken - we wander around the city, taking in the sights, visitng what appeals to us, and generally appreciating the heck out of it. It's something we've done for the whole of our marriage, which has built up some very happy memories... 

I hope that wherever you are, you are able to enjoy a silent hour, a good book, have fun in good company and a friendly visit...

it's an Inside Job

 I very much like this week's quotation, by Marcus Aurelius: "The ability to live happily comes from a power within the soul."

Because I do believe that happiness is an inside job. Let me declare one fact straight away: I am an optimist, married to a pessimist (although he would call himself a realist). I have blogged about this before, here, so I'm not going to repeat myself. Suffice it to say, I think I've got the better deal, as I am happier for more of the time...

The gorgeous postcard which accompanies this week's quote made me very happy. And reminded me of a special evening last year, when I was holidaying in mid-Wales with my best friend. We went down to the local beach to watch the sun setting, and it was completely glorious. Here is a photo I took with my phone that evening:

We were down there for about three quarters of an hour and were filled with awe and wonder at the beauty in front of us. And yes, happiness, that we were able to witness it. 

So this year, back at the same lovely holiday cottage with my husband, I decided to take him down to the beach to share the glory. Sadly, there were some clouds, which meant it wasn't quite the same, but when the sun came through a gap, the effect was equally stunning. It made me feel happy to be alive...

I read somewhere (I can't remember where) that individuals are born with an innate quota of happiness. So that even when something wonderful (or something dreadful) happens to them, although they may be happier (or sadder) in the short term, they will eventually revert to their default happiness level. I think the example given was lottery winners, who are thrilled when they win a substantial sum of money, then discover that it hasn't really made a difference to their happiness in the long term.

Another example, used by Geneen Roth, is about losing weight. She says that people tend to put living their best and happiest lives off, until they've reached their desired weight, rather than being happy now, allowing themselves to be happy now. 

So happiness is also about trying to appreciate the present moment. Which I believe is a spiritual practice, like any other. I blogged about having a gratitude practice as recently as last month. It really is an inside job.

How do you nurture your own happiness?

You Can't Capture Happiness

 The 20th century German author Werner Mitsch, once wrote, "Happiness can only be captured by passing it on." (or paying it forward).

And I agree with what I think is the sentiment - that it is a good idea to make others happy by our kind deeds and words - but I do not believe that it is possible to "capture" happiness. In fact, I think that the more we strive to be happy, the more we pursue it, the more unlikely it is that we will find it.

In my experience, happiness is something that happens to me - I will be in a particular situation, perhaps spending time with loved ones, or out in the glorious beauties of nature, or sitting at my desk writing, or creating my latest crochet project, and Zing! I am full of happiness. But I am very clear that this is not due to my own efforts - I am the fortunate receiver of it. Like I said, I honestly do not believe you can capture happiness. 

But it is only too easy to let it pass us by, not notice it while it is happening, and then wonder why our lives seem to have lost their savour. I make a conscious effort to be open to it, and to appreciate it while it's there. 

I suppose there is one sense in which can capture happiness. That is, when we take a photo or write down our sensations, so that we can recall them later. I am currently writing a memoir of my life, called Compass Point Joy and the process has been a very happy one. I have looked back through old photographs and old journals and have remembered many small incidents which have brought me joy. Which I might not have recalled, had I not "captured" them in words or pictures.

Happiness is Where You Find It

I thoroughly agree with David Dunn's view that, "Happiness has to be found along the way, not at the end of the road."

Because if we always have our eyes fixed on the end of the road, on a fictional happiness that will happen in the future, if only we do X, Y or Z, it is very easy for us to miss out on the ordinary, everyday instances of happiness happening right under our noses.

As human beings, we live in time, so it is natural to look towards the future, and there is nothing wrong with that. So long as it doesn't mean that we ignore what is happening to us right now. I've just spent three glorious days with my best friend in Cumbria, and thoroughly enjoyed every last minute of it. Yes, I had been looking forward to it for weeks, but I also enjoyed it as it was happening. It was glorious weather on Wednesday and we enjoyed a brisk walk along Roanhead Beach and then visited Furness Abbey.

An extra thrill was provided by our GA President, Anne Mills, who had kindly dropped off the Vice-Presidential medallion at Celia's house for me. So we had a small presentation ceremony, which has made it all seem real, in a way which the Zoom occasion did not.

Happiness can indeed be found along the way...

 

Where Does Happiness Lie?

 Aristotle, the 4th century BCE Greek philosopher, once wrote, "Happiness seems to lie in leisure. It belongs to those who are self-sufficient."

The original quote I saw was in the German postcard calendar I buy every year as prompts for these blogposts, and this week, I struggled with the translation. Not for most of it, but for the last three words, "sich selber genügen." This could either mean "self-sufficient" OR "sufficient for themselves", which doesn't mean quite the same.

Because being self-sufficient can mean closing ourselves off from connections with others, whereas "sufficient for themselves" can mean that we find our own company enough. I know this is hair-splitting, but to me, it feels quite different. I enjoy solitude, which is what I mean by being sufficient for myself, but would not like to cut myself off from human connection.

I also struggled with "Happiness seems to lie in leisure", because that ain't necessarily so. I also find happiness in working hard, in being absorbed in writing or crochet or cross-stitch. It is an active engagement, just relaxing.  I guess it hinges on how we define "leisure", which my Concise Oxford Dictionary defines as "time at one's own disposal", which I suppose includes doing something active. Being at leisure is about having no calls on our time, which is delightful, and does bring me happiness, because it means I can do what brings me joy. Which might be hard work, nonetheless.

But I would say that happiness *also* lies in leisure. A few years ago, I blogged about the things that bring me happiness here and I am delighted to report that all those things still bring me happiness; I would only want to add crocheting and playing chess with my son.

Where does happiness lie for you?

The Benefits of Smiling

 I once read somewhere that it takes only four muscles to smile, but 72 (I think I remember it correctly) to frown. Whether that is true or not, smiling is good for us. So I warmed to this week's quotation, an Indian proverb, "The smile you send out will return to you."

Because it really works. When I'm out for my daily constitutional, I always smile and say "hello" to anyone I pass. And even the most pre-occupied will acknowledge me, often with a smile of their own. Which makes the world a slightly more benevolent place, every time.

With so much crap going on in the world at the moment - wars, famine, poverty, discrimination, violence - not to mention the corona virus, our spirits need lightening, if we are to survive. And smiling (and being smiled at) helps enormously. Admittedly it is sad that we can't make closer physical contact with anyone outside our own personal bubble at the moment, but a smile can mean so much...

• I like you
• I love you
• Well done, congratulations
• I know how you feel
• You've got this
• You make me happy
• I care about you
• Life is good
• That's funny
• Namaste - that of the divine in me cherishes that of the divine in you

And a thousand other things. A true smile is never a negative conversation. So smile at someone (or someones) today... and cherish that smile back.

A Travelling Companion

This week's photo is of three wheeled huts, parked on a beach. The text, by Margaret Lee Runbeck, says, "Glück ist keine Station, bei der man ankommt, sondern eine Art zu reisen."

Which being translated, means "Happiness is not a station to arrive at, but a way to travel."

The American Declaration of Independence speaks of "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness" as "certain unalienable rights" with which all of humankind is endowed. I agree that all humankind has the right to life and the right to liberty, but I'm not so sure about "the pursuit of happiness".

Because I believe that happiness should not be not the goal of our lives, but a way of being in the world, which makes our journey through life easier. I think that pursuing happiness might actually lead to not being happy, where we are at the present moment. If we fall into the "if only" trap, we can actually be postponing the possibility of happiness.

For example, "I'll be happy, if only I could lose ten pounds." "I'll be happy, if I get a promotion at work." "I'll be happy, if only ... [fill in the blanks yourself]".

The knack is to find ways of being happy where we are, right now. Stanley A. Mellor, Unitarian minister at Hope Street Church in Liverpool during World War One, delivered a series of addresses which were published under the title The Last Victory: Studies in Religious Optimism. I was given this book as a gift a few years ago, and it touched me profoundly.

Mellor explains: "Their purpose was... to remind people again of the conditions under which glowing faith must always furnish its warmth in a finite world, to face certain fundamental perplexities in the light of faith, and to provide encouragement and hope. The responsibility of surviving into the world of peace after war... must press heavily on every sensitive spirit, and the need for radiant constructive faith in the ultimate goodness and worth of life is very great, and will become greater."

The whole book is a paean of hope, of "radiant constructive faith in the ultimate goodness and worth of life." I have blogged about it here and would like to repeat one further quote from that post:

"The part of The Last Victory which has brought the most enlightenment is where Mellors insists that 'Optimism is not a scientific certainty, no true optimist ever said it was. It is an affirmation of the spirit, a risk accepted by the soul... Call it what you will, belief in the unseen world, belief in the reality of the Ideal, faith in the solidarity and eternal value of goodness... the certainty remains that without it Humanity cannot go forward, and without we ourselves can do no good and worthy work in the world.'

Happiness is a way to travel, not a distant goal to be pursued.

On the Move Again

Those of you who know me "in the flesh" will know that I have been suffering with a bad knee for the last couple of years, and have been unable to run.

Which has depressed me no end, because for me, running was the great stress-buster in my life. After a run, I always felt on top of the world, and up for anything. But my physio drily pointed out that I had a choice - carry on running, and book in for a replacement knee operation in five years' time, or find something else to do.

So I've found something else to do. I joined a gym in mid-July, and since mid-September, I have hooked up with a Personal Trainer. It's costing me an arm and a leg, but I looked up the cost of smoking recently, and to have one hour-long session with a personal trainer every week costs the same as smoking ten Silk Cut Silver a day.

Understandably, I have decided to burn fat rather than burning tobacco! And I'm loving it! Loving stretching my body, using muscles which haven't been challenged for years, working up a sweat, and generally Going For It. In fact, my trainer keeps on reining me in, as he is concerned that I am going to injure myself if I am too "neck or nothing" in my approach. So I'm being good and doing what I'm told. I go to the gym four times a week, and see my trainer on a Monday morning, which sets the tone for the rest of the week. He's also told me to eat more healthily, which I'm trying to do.

What I'm also loving is the link between moving my body and looking after her, treating her as a temple rather than a dustbin, and my overall mood. My body is *loving* getting back to regular exercise, and I am much happier, more serene, as a result. I am also finding it easier to meditate in the mornings, since I have discovered Head Space.

Mind, body, spirit, they are all connected. We need to remember this more often ... or at least I do.

Celebrating the International Day of Happiness

This morning, when I turned on Facebook, a friend announced that today is the International Day of Happiness, and asked: "What makes you feel happy?" And it was lovely to stop and reflect about, and be grateful for, the many things that do make me feel happy. I found that the things that make me feel happy are a regular mixture of mundane and more uplifting:

the Bluebird of Happiness

• a good stretch, whether physical, intellectual, or spiritual
• a mug of coffee and a bar of Cadbury's Dairy Milk chocolate (yes, I have plebeian taste in chocolate, and I'm proud of it!)
• spending Boxing Day (or Christmas Day Number Two, as my mother calls it), with my parents, our family, and my sister's family
• sunlight sparkling on water
• getting my teeth into a fresh to-do list
• a good book, and time to curl up and lose myself in it
• a handclasp or hug from a friend
• the glingle on my phone that means a call or text from my DB or my children
• walking through green woods and meadows
• talking about my beloved Unitarianism
• the poetry and prose of John O'Donohue
• an unexpectedly cancelled meeting
• the sight of mountains or the sea, taking my breath away
• the satisfaction of seeing a picture begin to take shape out of the cross stitches
• being listened to or listening, respectfully and deeply
• the weight of a purring cat on my knees and the feel of her soft fur beneath my hand
• the gift of writing
• being absorbed in a zen doodle
• lying back in a hot, soaky bath, with a good book
• exploring a new city with my best beloved

And I am so very grateful for all these things. Having thought about them, and written them down, I hope I'll be able to revisit them if ever I feel down, and smile at the thought of them. Your list will no doubt be different. On this special day, what make you feel happy?

To Find Happiness in Small Things

And so another year begins. Another year of resolutions and plans. In previous years, I have set the bar quite high, and inevitably fallen short. So this year, I have only one resolution - to find happiness in small things, and to be aware of God at work in my life.

This has partly been provoked by re-reading, over the Christmas period, Gretchen Rubin's book The Happiness Project, which I blogged about back in March. Her overall message seems to be that it is possible to find happiness where you are, and that doing so is largely dependent on increasing things that make you feel good, decreasing things that make you feel bad, doing things that make you feel right, all in an atmosphere of growth.

I think that the Quakers are getting at the same approach, when they advise:

"Be aware of the spirit of God at work in the ordinary activities and experience of your daily life. Spiritual learning continues throughout life, and often in unexpected ways. There is inspiration to be found all around us, in the natural world, in the sciences and arts, in our work and friendships, in our sorrows as well as in our joys. Are you open to new light, from whatever source it may come? Do you approach new ideas with discernment?"