The Work of Happiness

What does it take to be happy?

Happiness seems to be a popular topic these days, inspiring research, TED talks, and lots and lots of books. I've recently read a few of these, including most of The Happiness Hypothesis, which I was enjoying but took a break from because I left my Kindle in Big Sur (Big Sur+good book+great friends=Happy, by the way). And most recently, I read Happier at Home by Gretchen Rubin, as a part of From Left to Write.

I have always been a fairly optimistic, happy person. Even after my brother passed away, though I was devastated, I still considered myself a generally happy person. Many great things have happened since then and I wasn't going to let the rest of my life slip away.

But having a child with special needs has put a damper on my happiness. This is not Moe's fault. Nor is it just my fate to be unhappy. The premise of most happiness research is that happiness is within our own control; external circumstances have a fairly small impact on any person's long term happiness.

But I admit, I've struggled with finding that place of optimism.

What I find so difficult about raising a child with autism, is the lack of control I have over how my day will go or what my life looks like. My house, which should be a place of refuge, is a source of almost constant stress. I cannot, for example, as Ms. Rubin does for herself, create "shrines" to things I loves or that make me happy. My collection of miniature chairs, for example, remains packed away, for surely Moe would love them to pieces. Literally.

I very much enjoy decorating, and interior design is a growing hobby of mine. But my own home is not the way I'd like it to be. I had to remove curtains because Moe pulled them down. China is hidden in a locked closet rather than a buffet to protect the pieces we still have left. I do what I can to create an environment that is both functional for us and pleasing to be in, but it isn't ideal.

Every aspect of our lives has changed. We don't travel. We rarely go out with friends. And until recently when I returned to work after six years of being a stay at home mom, I had lost that really big part of myself too.

It is not that these things are required to be happy. Autism has made it tough to do many things that formerly made me happy—but these things should not be necessary. Happiness comes from within; I know that. And yet, reading a book like Happiness at Home, I realize how much easier it is to be happy when you're already pretty happy to begin with and when you have a pretty good measure of control over your life.

If there's anything I've learned from Moe, however, it is that when things are tough, we just have to try a little harder. I'm working on it.
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This post was inspired by Happier at Home by Gretchen Rubin where she runs a nine month experiment to create happier surroundings. Join From Left to Write on January 6 we discuss Happier at Home. You can also chat live with Gretchen Rubin on January 7 on Facebook! As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

Finding the end of suffering

As you probably know, the Silicon Valley Moms Blog closed its doors to new posts this month. I’ve joined a new blog, however, called From Left To Write, that will be continuing the SV Moms book club tradition. This month, I had the opportunity to read a memoir called “This Is Not The Story You Think It Is” by Laura Munson.

Laura’s husband, comes home one day and declares that he doesn’t love her anymore, but she’s not buying it. Laura recognizes that he is going through a crisis of self, having just gone through one herself. She understands that for him to love her he must first love himself, something that is difficult for him to do when his business is failing, money is tight, and he is feeling unfulfilled. Rather than fight him, question him, or try to persuade him to stay, she opts to cultivate her own happiness. She supports him and gives him space, knowing in her heart that he’ll come around, and even if he doesn’t, she’ll be in a good place.

I wasn’t immediately fond of this book. The style, particularly in the beginning of the book, read more like a blog than literature. The writing felt choppy. Like this. Or this. She talked a lot. To me. To herself. I found myself thinking “use a comma, woman!” But in the end the story did speak to me in a couple of ways.

Surprisingly, I found myself identifying with her husband. I didn’t excuse his behavior; he behaved, as she states, like a “twenty-year old frat boy.” But this year has been tough for me. I have felt lost and sometimes deeply unhappy. I recognize that I have not always behaved perfectly, my sadness and confusion over Moe’s diagnosis manifesting itself as dissatisfaction toward my house (too small!), myself (lose weight!), and, yes, sometimes even my husband (just do the dishes already!). I allow myself to feel discontent toward the things over which I have some level of control, rather than than the one thing I cannot change and that I will likely be dealing with for the rest of my life. That is simply too big and scary.

Laura’s primary message throughout the book is to stop allowing your happiness to depend on things outside of your control. Jeff has seemed to understand this from the beginning, but it is harder for me. Like it or not, my reality is that my son has autism. This is not going to change so I can choose to find a level of contentment with that or not. I spend a lot of time wishing things were different, wondering what Moe would be like now without autism, how he “should” be able to do this or that. This “wanting,” as Laura calls it, is what leads to suffering, and throughout this time in her life she is working toward the “end of suffering.” I like that. I like the freedom in letting go, of knowing that I don’t have to make things perfect, because they aren’t going to be.

Finding my own end of suffering is not going to be easy, especially since we cannot just let things be. We need to be fighting to help Moe every day, and that, in itself, puts suffering in my face pretty constantly. As I wrote about just a week ago, I’ve found both strength and comfort in the fellowship of suffering. It is one thing to write a book after you’ve been there and done that. But clearly the journey to happiness is one we all have to go through on our own. The knowledge that happiness comes from inside may need to be rediscovered over and over again, as we face harder and harder challenges in our lives.

Note: I was given a copy of This Is Not the Story You Think It Is by the publisher as part of my association with the From Left To Write blog. I was not otherwise paid to review or write about the book.