Success v. happiness

I watched a TED talk last week, in which the presenter, Shawn Achor, posits the commonly held belief that success leads to happiness, when held up to research, is 180 degrees wrong. That is, he says, happiness in fact increases productivity and success, in a measurable way. But, success, by our standard definitions (raises, promotions, climbing the corporate ladder, getting more "stuff," fulfilling expectation scripts--I suppose I may have added a couple of my own in there) does not lead to happiness. We have it wrong.

He offered a simple script--probably an overly simple script--to increase happiness. Exercise. Eat healthy. Reflect intentionally on positives.  That is, keep a log of three positive things you did, or that happened, each day. Keep a positive journal.  Stuff like that.  I'm not representing him well--it was an eloquent, well-received talk with a valid point and an actionable message. I left it remembering my brief infatuation with Norman Vincent Peale, during my adolescence.  And, inspired to be more positive.

In fact, I decided to make my Lent (trying to take that Catholic obligation, tradition, and opportunity to a higher level of meaning than that one year when I gave up coffee and my secretary made me promise to never do that ever again has been an annual ambition of mine) centered on being more positive.

Thing is, as I'm paying attention, I'm realizing what a grumpy, gruff, and frankly, negative guy I have become. At least to my own perception. And, certainly to my family's. I think outsiders may see and experience a more positive side of me, but I'm not sure about that either.  When did that happen?  It's relatively recent I think.  Maybe a response to work and family pressures, maybe a response to the media (don't even get me started on that), maybe for no good reason at all.

Well, when I reflect, there is no doubt that the universe is an unfathomable  miracle and life a precious and amazing gift.  I need to remember that in the moment.

And, I need to lighten up.

Wish me luck, eh?

It's a finite resource.

It occurs to me that maybe productive output in terms of words, sentences, thoughts--complete, coherent, articulate thoughts, anyway--is perhaps a finite resource.  It sure seems that way.

I'm not blogging here.  Anymore.  Why?  I don't seem to have much to say.  Or, at least, to have much left to say.  Or, maybe it is that I just don't have time.

I'm working on my doctorate.  It's a great program, one that is growing by leaps and bounds, and for good reason.  One that is aligned with an Ignatian philosophy--care of the individual, social justice, striving for excellence and the greater good--that resonates solidly with me.  One that I can complete, living in Europe, primarily through distance learning.

I'm writing a lot, and reading even more.  That is in addition to the heavy reading and writing I do as part of my day job.  And in addition to any recreational reading (e.g. none) and writing (e.g. this blog, and not since last July) I might do.

Writing papers, writing discussion posts and responses...writing my reflections and musings (in consummate APA style, always).  I get regular compliments ("you write so well," "great 'voice,'" "you are very articulate," etc.); I like that--I like compliments.  But the writing is not gratifying in the same way as journaling, as writing from the heart.  It is writing as a means, not as an end.

My wife, on the other hand, is working on her third unpublished novel.  Her joy in writing is in the act, in the process, in the creation.  And, she has no deadlines, no due dates, and no work or school assignments consuming her finite resource.  She is writing just for herself.

She is very lucky.

Oh, she's also very good.  Search Arlee Olson on Amazon.com and you can download one of her titles to your Kindle reader, if you want to see what I mean.