If You're Happy and You Know It.....

On Friday, my CPN commented that, right now, I seemed happier and healthier than he had ever known me to be. I thought about it and realised he was right. A smile spread across my face and we sat there for a couple of minutes beaming at each other. He asked me why I thought that was, what had changed? I said that I sort of had the feeling that everything was beginning to make sense, when for a lot of my life it hadn’t. He asked me what I meant by that. I said I just knew how to be happy. How to really be happy. Was it, he suggested, (the CPN in him shining through) because I had learnt through all the intense work we had done since I left hospital how to manage my illness better? I said, yes I am managing my illness a lot better these days for sure and that is helping immensely but that’s not it. It's about a lot of different threads of my life coming together and creating a coherent picture.

I’ve had all these sets of beliefs, often conflicting and not very well thought out that were random and disjointed. These days they’re all fusing and I’m starting to have an actual worldview. It’s been very influenced by my Buddhism, of course, but there’s more to it than that. I have done a lot of thinking in the last few years and I now have, or am starting to have a framework to hang my life on like a clothes horse on laundry day. This is creating this feeling of immense balance and stability. It’s giving me a sense of contentment and freedom and for the first time in my life a realistic picture of who I am and what I stand for. Sure, I’ve always had the general gist that I am left wing, and a feminist etc. But there were so many gaps and holes in my thinking. Now I feel like a complete picture, even if it is a rather surrealist one.

As a teenager and an early adult, there was one word that could describe me and that is ‘confused’. I didn’t know who I was or what I thought about this or that. I didn’t know how the universe fitted together or how my mind worked or how to control my emotions. I didn’t know jack shit, basically, but rather than be one of these self assured people who were convinced they had the answers, when they really knew nothing, I could see with a stark clarity how little I knew. It went on like this for a long time, through some very bleak years. But now I have the sense of it all coming together. That I know who I am, where I belong, what my role is, what the meaning of all this is.

I’m not saying there are no grey areas anymore. There certainly are. But part of my new acceptance of myself is to love and accept my own ambiguities. That grey is the new black, so to speak: to accept fully that I am never, ever going back to that clear cut time of fundamentalist Christianity and nor would I want to. This ever present questioning is part of me, part of my identity. The fact that I can see things from a multitude of angles should no longer be viewed with absolute negativity but as a very beneficial thing. I see my doubt and scepticism as something that pushes boundaries and helps me examine the world, rather than a negative hindrance to ever fitting in or finding peace.

I say this at the risk of sounding smug but I think I am learning how to be happy. This is something that many people take for granted, but for me it’s something I’ve really had to work at hard. And now I am starting to have a sense of payoff. As one of our exercises this week, my CPN has asked me to write down in concrete terms, for a bit of fun, a sort of practical guide to my new found happiness. So I could know in future, if the sky were ever to cloud over again, where the path to sunnier climes lays.

So here you are, in all its glory is the document I have cobbled together for next weeks meeting: I did it like I was a guru or something because I thought it would be fun. I actually am not suggesting anyone do the same as me. Think of this as a kind of self help manual, literally written for myself. This for my purposes only- though if it helps you, I do individual sessions of life coaching for $300 an hour! Email me for details.

Jen’s Practical Guide to happiness.


1. Body: All the common sense advice they say is true. Sleep well. About 7-8 hours a night, no more, not much less. Keep bedtime regular. Eat healthy meals, not junk food. Exercise, preferably out in nature. Drink a lot of liquid, not so much beer and coffee. Go to the doctors and dentist regularly.

2. Mind: Read a paper every day, but not the same one. Keep connected with the world from a variety of viewpoints. Think about what you’ve read, process the information, form opinions. Read books, watch films, listen to music and interact with culture. Challenge yourself in your choices. Never stop learning. Express yourself creatively through whatever medium suits you. Stretch yourself. Try new things. Meditate daily or whatever helps you wind down. Keep a journal or blog and reflect on your life.

3. Friendship: Be close to the friends that matter to you. Ditch the ones who don’t. A few good close friends are better than many fake ones. With those who you keep, make an effort to maintain contact. Rebuild burnt bridges. Surround yourself with people who love and understand you for who you are and appreciate your talents. Reach out to them when you are struggling. Be honest. Be a good friend in return. Listen to others problems. Be happy for your friends when they are successful, rejoice in their achievements. Phone them even when you’re feeling antisocial. Be generous with time, money and hospitality. Let them know how much you love and value them. Try not to compare yourself with them- everyone has their own suffering. Don’t try and solve other peoples problems for them or encourage other people to become dependent on you, help your friends help themselves.

4. If you have a partner: put their needs above your own in everything you do. Give them the biggest plate of food, the largest glass of wine, fulfill their fantasies in the bedroom, dress in clothes you know they like. Try in everything you do to make them feel like the most special person on the planet. They deserve it for putting up with you! Apologize first, make peace, don't hold grudges. Realise, above all else that (like all your friends and family) they are just another person passing through on this great cosmic journey and whilst you love them with all your heart you really can’t make them the centre of everything. Avoid dependency. That whole thing about letting things go and they come back to you is pretty much the truth. Just love everything about them, farts and all, and remember it is not your job to change them! Only they can do that!

5. Attitude: Learn to let go of the past and the future. Try to live in the present. Be peaceful. Treat everyone equally. Be kind to people, especially if they are suffering or rude to you. Try not to attach to things: to people or possessions or feelings. Develop contentment and learn to love where you are now, not where you want to be. Try to see things as they really are: avoid lying, avoid delusions. Try to contemplate and come to terms with death by looking it straight in the face, but without seeing it as a solution to your problems. Remember the path to enlightenment as a better solution. Be mindful in your actions, try to not ever behave thoughtlessly. Walk the line between doing your best and being a perfectionist. Don’t ever let your fears stand in the way of your dreams.

6. Don’t compare yourself to other people. Don’t judge others. You never know why or how until you’ve been there yourself.

7. Laugh. A lot. It really is the best medicine. Take risks with laughter, never sit on a joke, share it! Even if nobody laughs you’ll most likely get a groan.

8. Time: If possible, strive to get a job that is also your passion. Fill the time you have free with what you really want to do. Never kill time even if you are tired. It only makes you feel bad afterwards. If you have to rest, take quality rest : meditate a while or sleep. Don’t watch Junk TV.

9. Cut yourself some slack: Don’t make the standards too high. Be kind to yourself. Love yourself. Don’t overwork.

10. Find balance and harmony in everything you do. An excess of anything nearly always leads to bad things. Take space. Build in quiet time. Take delight in peace and stillness, even if only for half an hour a day. Don’t dwell on negative thoughts, just let them go. Equally, delusions of grandeur should be abandoned for a more realistic worldview.

11. Finally: Sing in the shower, every day, at the top of your voice. It lifts the spirits, whatever the weather.

Killing Time, Waiting for Sleep.

Things you are afraid of: Scream man, sharks, snakes, wasps, having to kiss/hug strangers as a greeting, TV announcers late at night, the sea, choking, hell, public speaking, aeroplanes, looking stupid, panic attacks, forgetting peoples names, stand up comedy where they pick on the audience, role playing in interview situations, dementia, the dentist, Owen dying, hallucinations, my dark side.

Things that make you laugh: Owen, my Dad, too many TV shows to mention, my likeness to Lisa Simpson, being tickled, bouncy castles, running for busses, nerd sex, geek humour, TV Chefs, Rhodri, getting drunk with friends, near death experiences (or the exhilaration afterwards), cats falling out of trees, my sixth form poetry, Bill Hicks, Ricky Gervais, Jack Dee (and many others,) pigeon English, silly puns, The God Channel, my own general incompetence, making three letter words during 'Countdown', The Mark Steel lectures, politically incorrect humour, things that make you cringe, Mr Bean, adverts from the 1950’s, panel shows, pretentious people who are at the same time incredibly thick, life in general.

Things that make you cry: Too many films to mention, my parents going back home after visiting for the day, Owen shouting at me, letting people down, 'Epitaph' by Badly Drawn Boy, getting caught doing something bad, guilt, arguments, period pain, people saying they are proud of me, death, old peoples homes, anniversaries, too much whiskey, my brothers calling me fat, failing at anything, looking through old photographs, compilation CDs from people I’m no longer friends with, beautiful scenery, Winnie the Pooh, saxophone solos, 'Strange Fruit' by Nina Simone, hurting people I love, regrets, stubbing my toe, falling over, weddings of people who really love each other.

Things you love: Myself, Owen, Popple, all those close to me, people in general, piglet from Winnie the Pooh, Charles Bukowski, chocolate, long walks, sunshine, conversation, alcohol, sex, drunken sex, pushing limits, connection, collaboration, reading, blowing open doors of perception, The Buddha, Ajahn Brahm, The Guardian, real coffee, masturbation, Tesco DVD Rental, good wine, bad wine, forests, churches and their graveyards, cats, singing, erotica, writing, politics, a good snog, moonlit dancing, friendship, words and language, intelligence, impermanence, meditation, turkish delight, hobnob biscuits, going to The Willow, tea, Dr Pepper, philosophy, travelling light, visiting friends, watching TV naked, foreign films, all good music, Benjamin Franklin, my huge feet, when Yorkshire men call me ‘petal’, cooking new meals, playing the same song on repeat, overanalysing, The Marquis de Sade.

Things you hate: Looking at photographs of myself, people who can’t admit it when they don’t know something, anyone who looks down on anyone else for whatever reason, ignorance, competition, slavery in all its many forms, being touched on my neck, computer problems, people who diss feminists without really understanding anything about them, corporate capitalism, the arms trade, old peoples homes, right wing religion, drunken drivers, people who fish for compliments constantly, those people who when clothes shopping just throw wrong sized clothes on the floor and don’t pick them up, my chin, general selfishness.

Things you don't understand: Most things in the world including but by no means limited to: maths, science, any language that isn’t English, art (as in paintings and stuff), dance, Chinese opera, the rules of the road, The Karma Sutra, people who like George Michael or shoe shopping or badly written fiction. Why anyone would want to own a tarantula as a pet, why vanilla ice cream and chocolate custard tastes better than anything on earth, car maintenance, flower arranging, how to fix an Mp3 player, the intricacies of anything historical before 1900.

Things you're good at: Identifying other people’s strengths, comforting people who are suffering, explaining stuff, reading fast, keeping myself occupied, putting words together in an order that makes some people want to read them, thinking too much.

Things you suck at: Spending too much time alone, running, eating small portions, remembering to phone people and other people’s birthday’s, asserting my will in a conflict, cracking one liners, making light of a serious situation, tidying up, remembering to dust once a fortnight, paying council tax on time, reading books right through till the end, sitting through long films, taking photographs, driving, controlling my addictive personality.

Things on your desk: I don’t really have a desk. There is the computer table and that mainly has stationary and a computer on it. There is a phone from when I phoned my mum earlier, and a mug from the tea I just had. That’s it really.

Right now you are: Jigging my leg, very sleepy, listening to Voxtrot through the stereo, waiting for Owen to finish watching a Russian film before we go to bed, hungry, tired of racking my brain for facts about myself.

Facts about you: Oh, enough of the narcissism already. I think I’ve talked enough.

Things to do before you die:
Tie the rope to the beam and kick the stool from underneath me.

(Sorry…. depressives joke)

Time for bed, I think!

Muso

Recently Owen has taken to calling me a ‘muso’. He usually says it whilst rolling his eyes and poking me in the flab on my stomach. He soon got wind of the fact that this label annoyed me greatly and started using it all the more. Now he uses it with a glee so infuriating it makes me want to smash his face in. Every time I innocently mention a band I like he says; ‘is that the hip word on muso street?’ or ‘oh really? They’re good are they oh wise muso one?’ or just plain and simple ‘Shut up you fucking muso, I know you like them - there hasn’t been anything else coming out of the stereo for the past seven days.’

My retort (through gritted teeth): 'I am not a fucking muso.'

Reasons I am not a muso:

1. I do not have an Encyclopaedic knowledge of the trainspotting music stuff, my knowledge about record labels, artwork, managers, technical production, famous tours and limited edition singles even of my most favourite bands is slim to none.

2 I do not worship vinyl and proclaim it’s the only true way to hear music. I like my CD’s. Mp3’s are even better, and you don’t have to trudge round obscure shops in Manchester in the pouring rain on a Saturday afternoon to collect and listen to them.

3. I do not masturbate over mint condition 1960’s editions of the NME and Rolling Stone. I don’t in fact, read music magazines full stop; I think they are just big corrupt advertising vehicles mostly full of egotistical and talentless bitter male writers who very rarely have anything interesting to say at all. I read more grassroots zines and weblogs but even then I mostly laugh at all the musos who take it all far too seriously.

4. Some of the bands I like are obscure but I am not attracted to obscurity for its own sake. I do not feel cheated when one of my favourite bands becomes successful- in fact I say ‘good for them’ and keep on liking them, even if they do start having number one hit singles a la the streets and the arctic monkeys. I am quite happy to like a band that is tremendously popular as long as they are good.

5. I am not competitive when it comes to music, live and let live is what I say. I get sick of these musos who get into the whole ‘bragging’ thing:

Muso 1: ‘Dogbeard…yeah…well I saw them back in their peak, in 1992 when they performed an impromptu session on a park bench and then vomited in their guitar.’

Muso 2: ‘Oh really? Well I saw them a year before that in the good old days when they performed a homecoming gig at the tap and spile- and they did a live acoustic version of chickenfeatherblues by the spaghetti heads and then afterwards the lead singer ate the microphone.’

That kind of shit just makes me want to eat my own head, or at least bash their two idiotic ones together until they are unconscious.

6. I would never, ever judge a person or a friendship on their taste in music. My best friend loves Brittany spears and James blunt yet we’ve never had one argument about it. If she wants to listen to horrible cheesy pop that’s her prerogative, but I can keep in perspective that this doesn’t, whatever musos might think, make Marie a superficial or brainless person, she is in fact one of the deepest most complex thinkers I have ever talked with. She just doesn’t get her kicks in the same place I do, that’s all. People who judge people on what they listen to must miss out on so many friendships, I don’t want to let anyone slip through the net.

7. I am not obsessed with mix tapes and compilations. I make the odd one or two but this is a side of muso behaviour that I have never really gotten into.

8. When you ask me what my favourite song of a particular artist is, I am much more likely to say one of their singles rather than some obscure B side on a Japanese limited edition import.

9. I do not sneer when I disagree with someone’s musical opinion.

10. I have fully grasped the concept that music can sometimes just be background noise or something fun to do a silly dance to in the living room or mime with a hairbrush in front of the mirror- I get sick of people who take it all a bit too seriously. Music is there to enjoy and entertain as well as all the deeper stuff.

11. I do not quote lyrics obsessively and fastidiously. In fact, even when I try to remember them, I usually forget. Even when I was playing songs that I had written in a band, I had to write the lyrics down on scraps of paper for when my mind went blank when I was performing.

12. I can stop talking about music. I am not one of these musos who keep on going and going even when everyone else has fallen asleep. I do talk about it quite a lot, but, there are other things in life as well, ya know?

13. I have never been to a festival

14. I have never been to a ‘secret’ gig.

15. I wouldn’t have a clue as to what the top ten albums right now are. Let alone the top ten indie albums.

16. I don’t listen to the radio for the same reasons I don’t read magazines. They are just corporate sponsored music pushers who play the same bands and songs again and again. I don’t want to fill my head with their sycophantic crap.

So, thus proves I am not a fucking muso. Whatever Owen says.

Yes, I love, if not adore my music and it’s true, high fidelity is one of my all time favourite books. I am familiar with quite a lot of musical artists and am pretty picky in my tastes. When I’m not busy living life I may listen to four or five new albums a day. I find it nearly impossible to be in silence and I am surgically attached to my Mp3 player. I do indulge in totally nerdy behaviour like reading biographies of bands/ musicians and downloading their entire back catalogue, listening to each seminal song as I get to that part in the book. Even though I am not even in a band at the moment I am constantly writing down songs and lyrics for the day I have courage to one day start singing again. I quite often start conversations with friends and even strangers: what music are you into at the moment?

It’s not that I don’t admit to being a little bit obsessed with music, you see. But the macho muso culture is something I want no part of. So sure, I say to anyone who’s into their music; come round to my house, chill out and we’ll listen to some tunes. We’ll debate them passionately, laugh, weep, reminisce, hug, shout and sing together. We’ll revel in each others musical tastes, I’m always open to ideas and willing to learn. Say anything you like, anything at all and I won’t judge you. You can even say that Eels are a one trick pony or that Joni Mitchell can’t sing. But if you dare to call me a muso I swear I will not be held responsible for my actions and you might find yourself leaving with several less teeth than when you arrived.

The Political is Personal.

At the moment I am busy listening to Tori Amos’ latest offering, American Doll Posse. I have been excited by the concepts behind it for some time after seeing and reading interviews with her in different places (including ‘Loose Women’ of all programmes- I don’t think they quite knew what to make of her!) On a first listen I am pretty impressed, but I imagine as with most of Tori’s work, it will be a grower.

Things I like about Tori Amos:

• She is, first and foremost, a musician; a classically trained pianist to be exact. She is also a songwriter, and, when she’s on form, one of the finest ones in contemporary music. This as opposed to being a singer of other peoples songs (usually men’s) like so many world class women artists are, or worse, being foremostly a model or dancer with not much musical talent.

• She is an interesting character with strong opinions about life, art and the world. I don’t always agree with her, I sometimes find her pretentious and annoying, but I can never tear my attention away from her when I watch her perform, or in an interview.

• Her lyrics rock the house. She is a poet who is not afraid to experiment with language, form and style.

• She is unashamedly political.

• She is not afraid to be herself and since ‘Little Earthquakes’ was released has fought for control of her own sound and image in an age where artists are more and more dictated to by record companies. Kudos to someone who would rather turn down their first significant record deal rather than have her record and musical vision massacred.

• She can be silly, whimsical, earnest and poignant within the same song, sometimes even in the same breath.

• She makes me think

• I like her voice.

• She tackles taboos.

• For example: She explores female sexuality in an honest, genuine way. This is all too rare in an age where despite an abundance of page three models and Ann summers shops, an exploration of woman’s true sexual psychology and drive is a deeply taboo subject.

• She has a sense of fashion and aesthetic style that even I can appreciate is interesting.

• She pours scorn on the fickle ‘celebrity’ lifestyle.

• I believe she genuinely cares about her fans.

• She pushes the boundaries of her own music in her live performances, and never plays the same show twice.

I could go on, but won’t. Anyway, when I am excited about an album, especially an album from an artist with a lot of depth, I like to read a bit about it first. So before listening to American Doll Posse I went on Wikipedia to see what it had to say. The thing that really caught my eye was this quote from Amos herself:

‘The main message of my new album is: the political is personal. This as opposed to the feminist statement from years ago that the personal is political. I know it has been said that it goes both ways, but we have to turn it around. We have to think like that. I’m now taking on subjects that I could not have been able to take on in my twenties. With Little Earthquakes I took on more personal things. But if you are going to be an American woman in 2007 with a real view on what is going on, you need to be brave, and you need to know that some people won’t want to look at it.’

Now, don’t get me wrong, this isn’t the first time I have heard this kind of argument. Recently, Natasha Walter wrote an entire book on the subject, and there has been (especially post 9/11) a call from within the feminist world to become more linked with wider issues than feminism has traditionally focused on. More and more articles and books are being written by feminist authors on a diverse range of subjects, including what I call ‘big P’ politics.

I say, right on. To this direction, to all of this.

It’s not that I don’t believe that the personal is political, I blatantly do. If it is already not obvious from the small amount of posts I have written, then I will spell it out: thinking about the significance of my day to day actions is of tremendous importance to me. I believe that the devil is in the detail, as they say, and huge victories can be won by focusing on what might initially seem like small aspects of your daily routine. You know, the whole Rosa Parks thing. The greatest injustices, I have always found, often manifest themselves in a whole range of day to day inequalities and it has only been by reclaiming this personal sphere, and politicising it, that feminists have managed to make the gains they have.

However, I read a lot of feminist blogs and over the last couple of years have been more and more concerned by the fact that the overwhelming majority of posts, especially by young feminists, seem to revolve around traditionally ‘female’ spheres. For example, feminist posts on fashion, makeup, food, family, relationships, motherhood, domestic chores, childcare, body hair and at the more radical end of the spectrum, sexual issues like abortion, pornography and rape can all be found in abundance. But the feminist bloggers and journalists who are writing about law (that’s not abortion law), science, Party and international Politics, global news stories, religion, critiques of capitalism, human rights, war and conflict, technology, space travel, economics, philosophy etc. Where are they? I don’t come across them very often, and when I do it’s the same few names again and again. I find this compartmentalising of the feminist movement very worrying. Life is a rich tapestry, yet the vast majority of the feminist movement seems to just focus on things designated as ‘women’s issues’, and by focusing on such narrow topics we seem to get into such wars amongst ourselves.

Sometimes, the personal can become too political. We get obsessed with tiny little details and lose sight of the bigger picture. We turn on each other and forget that there are different ways to live life, different ways to express feminism. We forget completely the concept of sisterhood, and instead behave more like cliques at a high school, obsessed with dogma, labels and outward codes of behaviour rather than the true spirit of liberation. Anti porn or sex positive, Pro choice or pro life, to wed or not to wed? Yes, the personal is political and I’m not disagreeing that these issues are important to many many women (including me). However, I’m right there with Tori on this one, there is so much more to the feminist vision than simply debating for hours whether having hairy armpits make you an authentic feminist or a hardcore loony that gives the women’s movement a bad reputation. After all, there surely comes a time where you have to say to yourself a hairy armpit is just that. Women are dying and starving all over the world. Atrocity after atrocity is being committed on our behalf and in our names. There comes a time that, as western feminists we should stop fighting amongst ourselves. Then, with or without a Venus razor, we should stand up, united, and do something to help.