On embracing small h happy

I've spoken about this before, and I'm sure I'll continue banging on about it for as long as the internet will have me...but anyone who says that being happy is easy is a bloody liar. Well, either that, or they should consider themselves supremely lucky. I feel like we're all told to strive for “big H Happy” - and there's a pervasive notion that your life won't be complete until you've found it. 

The “big H Happy”, however, is elusive. Or it has been for me. It's not entirely “Happy’s” fault - of late, it's been fighting against some pretty stacked odds. Aftershock from some nasty heartbreak? Check. Illness in the family? Check. Loss of a beloved family pet? Check. The kind of work stress that bleeds into your life and makes you wake up in a cold sweat? Check. Encroaching uncertainty about what to do next? Check. So I can't blame “Happy” for struggling to push through all of that noise. 

I have a solution though. I'm not trying for “big H Happy”: I'm taking small slices of “small h happy” where I can, and building them up like a jigsaw puzzle. And it turns out that, once you take the pressure off, pieces of “happy” are much easier to come by. I find mine in good people, in creative outlets, and in indulging my various geeky proclivities. 

So here's what I must remember: write more (writing brings me pieces of happy), bake more (baking brings me pieces of happy), spend more time with family and friends (my loved ones bring me pieces of happy), embrace that new person who makes me smile (he brings me pieces of happy). When I let these things slide, my pieces of happy diminish, and everything else starts to get on top of me. But when that happens, I am letting myself be defeated. I know how to make things better, and I can make things better: I don't need to be rescued, as I can bloody well do it myself. I am woman, hear me roar...or something along those lines.

So here it is, my advice for anyone struggling with the hunt for the elusive “big H Happy” - don't beat yourself up for not having found it yet. Embrace “small h happy” where you can, and build up those little pieces of happiness until - who knows - maybe we’ll all realise we never needed sodding “big H Happy” anyway.

On old friends

This past weekend, I was walking down the platform at King’s Cross on my way to Spitalfields market, and found myself walking towards a very familiar face: one I hadn’t seen in a couple of years, but instantly recognisable nonetheless.

Adam was at my sixth form college (let’s not think too hard about how long ago that actually was), and was one of those people who instantly welcomed me in – slightly awkward teenage outsider that I was at the time – and became a fast, firm friend. Since then, we’ve kept in touch very sporadically (a lot of the onus for that falls on me): we went to different universities, had new friendship circles, and completely non-maliciously drifted apart until we barely saw each other any more.

None of that, however, detracted from the genuine pleasure I felt when I recognised him walking towards me the other day. A lovely (speedy) reunion took place, complete with hugs and giggles and slightly hopeless attempts to catch up on ALL THE NEWS over the course of a couple of minutes, before he had to jump on his next train. We made noises about meeting up soon for a proper catch up, and I must stay true to that and not fail to follow through.

My point is this: there is a certain kind of joy that comes from old friends, which can’t be replicated or bottled. It’s like a strange sort of magic, guaranteed to lift the spirits, and it doesn’t necessarily happen with everyone – just with those particularly special people who you’ve somehow managed to lose touch with, but certainly not intentionally.

Our lives are neither fleeting nor straightforward. Friendships come in different shapes and sizes as we grow up, and I think it’s actually quite rare to have lifelong friends. For the most part, we all experience people coming into our lives and taking on an important role for a particular stretch, and then more often than not life takes us in different directions and we lose touch. This doesn’t lessen the impact of those friendships, or mean they were of any less worth than those that lasted longer. As we grow and change, the kind of relationships we have – and the kind of things we look for in other people – naturally changes with us.

Maybe that’s why seeing an old friend is such a pleasure: you’re not just reminded of how much you loved that person, you’re also reminded of an old version of yourself. If you’re lucky, it’s a version of yourself that you can look back on fondly, even if they’re pretty different from present-day you. And, whether you and your old friend have grown in similar ways, or whether there’s still an echo of the old you in there, you may just find you can slip easily back into that same old friendly chemistry. If – as in my case – that’s a comfortable and welcoming fit, there’s really nothing nicer.

What it comes down to for me is this – life is about people. Life is about connections. Personally, I’ve always found that to be more important than places or work or ambition. The experiences I’ve had with the people around me have shaped me into the Jess that I am now, so I will never overlook the importance of those people when our paths happen to cross again.

On happiness

My mother has a saying that I rather admire: it’s only when you stop asking yourself whether or not you’re happy, that you realise you’re actually happy.

In the world we live in, there seems to be a lot of pressure to be happy, and to think very hard and very often about whether or not you are. Whether that comes from the proliferation of self-help books, reality television programmes where people search for THE BEST partner or THE BEST job, glossy magazines, or just good-natured but irritating friends – the question “yes, but are you happy though?”, and the sad frown and tilt of the head that go with it, are ever present.

My question is this: if you’re constantly worrying about whether or not you’ve reached the mecca of happiness, can you really ever get there? I think my Mum has a point. By the very nature of the thing, happiness can’t go hand in hand with nervous worrying. And yet the reality is that it’s much harder than you’d think to stop anxiously checking in with yourself. Am I happy? Am I doing everything I should be doing? Am I surrounding myself with the right people? Am I in the right job for me? If I get all of those elements right, will I be able to relax and believe I’m happy?

Getting those questions out of your head can be nigh on impossible. Or that’s my experience of it, anyway. Maybe other people are able to stroll through life, blissfully unquestioning - blissfully comfortable in who they are and how they feel about their lot. But I find it hard to imagine what that’s like.

Of course, feeling more comfortable with who you are, and caring less about what other people think of you, must go some way to helping with this (I’ve touched on that before, which those of you who weren’t put off by the word “Hanson” will know). And yet it can’t be everything. Because learning to ignore the gripes and demands of other people’s agendas doesn’t necessarily mean you’ve learnt to ignore the gripes and demands of your own.

We tend to hold ourselves to a very high standard. Perhaps it comes from the dawning realisation that you only live once (can’t believe I just used “YOLO”…oh dear), and a slight desperation to make some kind of positive impact on the world. Now that can be as grand or as small as you please, but it does mean that there’s this permanent niggling at the edges of one’s subconscious – the feeling that you should be making the most of every moment you have.

I’m sure that’s true to a certain extent: that we should try not to waste the time we have on anything that we feel isn’t what we want, or doesn’t feel right. However, there’s a balancing act that has to be done to avoid tipping over into a persistent state of paranoia, surely? Because who says you have to constantly be doing grand and amazing things in order to be making the most of life – in order to be happy?

I don’t think I have an answer to this yet, unfortunately. Whilst I’m conscious that I shouldn’t be constantly worrying about whether or not I’m making the most of my time, and as a result whether or not that means I’m “happy”, I find it hard to train myself out of that mindset. Perhaps one day I’ll be able to find the key – I’ll relax, stop asking whether I’m happy, and actually be happy. Don’t worry: if I figure out the trick to doing that, I’ll share the secret with you guys too. Sharing is caring, after all.