The little things

My 10-year old son and I are playing a game at the moment: the 30-day Happiness Challenge*. I bought it after he finished his entrance exams for secondary school. A bit of light relief. So each day he plucks a 'happiness challenge' from a little box covered in smiley faces. Two weeks in, he's been smiling at strangers, looking back on old photos and walking barefoot in some rather soggy grass.

My main objective is to keep him on a positive track after the stress of all the exams. Like many of us, he can get lost in the more negative aspects of his day. Apparently, this is a common human trait. "Our view of the world has a fundamental tendency to tilt to the negative," says social psychologist Alison Ledgerwood in a TEDx talk. 

A quick guide to happiness (sort of)

Whenever I succumb to a bit of navel-gazing, the subject is always the same. How to be happy. You'd have thought I'd got it sussed by now, but there is a wildcard element in all of this that makes 'being content' a slippery fish to pin down. Only now, with the experience of middle age, am I beginning to understand what makes my chemistry hum.

Time is elastic: re-schedule the chores!

My own compass of wellbeing swings between different points - family life in the north, perhaps, and working achievements in the south. I have long given up on my BIG career, preferring these days to plug the gap with novel-writing, blogging and freelance work. In effect, I have traded ambition for freedom and being at home with the kids.

Work shy

Silence descends on the house. The kids are back at school, the dog has been walked and I am finally free to get on with some work. For the latter part of the Easter holiday, I have been fantasising about having a quiet morning to return to my book project. With all the banter and child-noise (screams of glee, screams of pain as one pushes the other off the sofa), I have hardly been able to concentrate on anything more challenging than following a recipe or loading the washing machine. Now I can lay down my wooden spoon and immerse myself in work...

Finding my way around a keyboard again!

Except suddenly I am at a loss. Three weeks out of the normal routine and I feel unable to pick up the threads of life at home sans enfants. It's like part of my brain muscle has atrophied with the lack of use. Or put more plainly, I've lost my mojo. A harmonious working life has its own momentum and once the pattern has broken, it's hard to re-start the machine.

Happiness is...

As I was driving to meet a friend for coffee yesterday, I caught a snatch of a Radio 4 programme on Stacey Jackson. It was one of those surreal moments when the outside world seems to chime with your own thoughts. Stacey, a Canadian mother of four who became a pop sensation at the age of 40, was talking about her restless ambition to set up a new business selling fitness clothes:

"A lot of people say but she should be so happy, she has four great kids and she's got a great husband... I can't just settle with one source of happiness. I'm so happy when I am up on stage performing in front of thousands of people. I'm so happy when somebody says, 'Oh my God, I love your top! Where can I buy one?' I am so happy when somebody says your son is amazing, he just got into a great university..."

The art of being happy

Don't panic - I am not about to launch my new career as a pop star - but I could see sense in what Stacey was saying. Like many people mired in a midlife patch, I am often trying to analyse what makes me happy and how I should manage my life going forward. 

Teenage fuel

My 11-year old daughter was bemoaning the fact that she was too tall the other day. Having just started secondary school, she was embarrassed that she was towering above many of the older girls. In an attempt to comfort her, I started to tell her that our culture prized superlatively tall women in the form of supermodels... then I stopped. Where was I heading with this? Was I encouraging her to aspire to being bony and underfed? Heaven forbid!

Having fun with food...
© Roman Sluka | Dreamstime.com

As mothers, we are advised not to comment on our own weight or even focus too much on the way our daughters look. Our girls and boys are growing up in a society where the pressure to look attractive/desirable is almost overwhelming. According to a recent government survey, two-thirds of British teenage girls consider themselves too fat. No wonder then that admissions to UK hospitals for teenagers with eating disorders have almost doubled in the past three years. To add to the complexity of the problem, obesity in children is also on the rise.

On the margins of the mobile world

What kind of idiot drops their mobile phone down the loo? That's what I thought to myself a few months ago when my brother lost his iPhone to a watery grave. Now it seems I too have become an idiot. And yes, it fell out of my back pocket.

Since that unfortunate incident, I have been through four  stages of phone bereavement: 

• initial optimism that the phone would survive its immersion in toilet water (it didn't)
• panic that no one would be able to contact me
• twinges of envy mixed with nostalgia every time I heard someone else's phone ping
• and finally acceptance.

Teenagers: too exposed to the dangers of mobiles?
© Ctvvelve | Dreamstime.com 

I have been forced to order a new phone but as I wait for it to arrive, I am enjoying an odd sense of peace. During a spare moment - waiting to pick up the children for instance - I no longer reach into my handbag to check my emails. Instead, I just sit/stand and quietly watch the world go by.

The whips and scorns of time

I finally worked out who Bradley Cooper was the other day. Yes, I know - I have been living under a rock. Last Saturday, my husband and I watched him and Jennifer Lawrence in Silver Linings Playbook, a quirky rom-com about two young people with mental health issues who [spoiler alert] end up falling in love. The message we took away was that most of us harbour a little craziness, whether we paddle away mid-stream or occasionally sink beneath the flow.

"The world will break your heart ten ways to Sunday - that's guaranteed," Pat (Bradley Cooper) told us in the final scene. "I can't begin to explain that. Or the craziness inside myself and everyone else. But guess what? Sunday's my favourite day again."

"The world will break your heart ten ways to Sunday..."

Credit: Will Lam

Oddly, I found this quotation comforting. We are not alone, I thought! The idea that life is about heartbreak and disappointment, as much as fulfilment and pleasure, is not a novel one but it teaches us that we can't always expect an easy ride. We have to embrace human experience in its entirety, the rough with the smooth. 

Psyching up for 2013

Another new year. Time to ring in the changes. January is a month of resolutions, stodgy thighs and enforced abstinence. We leave the excesses of Christmas behind and move into a new phase of betterment. For goodness' sake, why?

Not for me, thanks!
© Photographer: Milogu | Agency: Dreamstime.com

Facebook is full of miserable people bemoaning their decision to give up alcohol this month. Why do we impose these rules on ourselves? Lose half a stone. Go to the gym more. Learn a new language. Be nicer to the children / husband / mother / mother-in-law [delete as appropriate]. 

It's all in pursuit of happiness. Or at least an attempt to increase our sense of wellbeing during one of the bleakest months of the year. Setting resolutions provides a roadmap to a better future!

If we are to believe the American psychologist Martin Seligman, there are five elements that contribute to our sense of wellbeing. So aside from resolutions, we should also be thinking about:

• Positive emotion (life satisfaction, positive thinking)
• Engagement (being absorbed in something to the point of losing self-consciousness)
• Relationships (enjoying and constructively building relationships with other people)
• Meaning (having a purpose in life, belonging to something that is bigger than yourself)
• Accomplishment (achieving goals)

Seligman, a professor at the University of Pennsylvania, was asked to help develop a program to train the US Army in positive psychology. The goal was to make one million US soldiers more resilient to psychological trauma, at a time when the army was experiencing nearly a decade of protracted conflict. As a result, positive psychology is taught and measured throughout the US Army.

A few years ago, I had the privilege of interviewing Simon Weston, a British veteran of the 1982 Falklands War. Weston, a Welsh Guardsman, suffered severe burns when his ship Sir Galahad was bombed by an Argentine plane. For 23 years afterwards, he suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder, which took the form of vivid nightmares, panic attacks and broken sleep. He even contemplated suicide.

After a slow and difficult recovery, Weston has become a motivational speaker, encouraging people to take control of their own lives. He is a classic example of someone who finally achieved post-traumatic growth. "What does not kill me, makes me stronger," the German philosopher, Friedrich Nietzsche, once said.

Of course ordinary people like you and me are unlikely to experience the horrors of war. Our combatants are more often depression, divorce, bereavement, or on a more modest scale, relationship issues and job dissatisfaction. Weston believes that we have to accept our situation and turn it to our advantage. It is all about having a positive mental attitude.

Who knows if this or Seligman's brand of positive psychology work - the US Army is still evaluating the success of its training program - but I am interested enough to put them to the test. So here it is: 2013, the year of engagement, positive emotion and accomplishment (hopefully). I guess it beats enrolling for boot camp or attempting to shed half a stone.


Click here to watch Martin Seligman deliver a lecture on the PERMA elements of wellbeing to the Royal Society for the encouragement of Arts, Manufactures and Commerce. I would like to thank Jamie Reed, an executive coach and author, for introducing me to Martin Seligman's work. 

Emma Clark Lam is the author of A Sister for Margot