….which could, I’m sure, be applied to our possessions….let them go, gracefully……x
Apparently, lottery winners tend not to report themselves any happier ten years down the line. In fact, within just three months of a significant lottery win, statistics show we return to the level of happiness we had before.
Do I buy that ticket, then, or not bother?
Well, buying a ticket is our way of putting our hand up; “yes please, I’d like to be happier”. No harm in that, aiming for happiness. We all want to be happy.
You’re right. But I’m sure I’d be happier if I won just a bit. Enough to pay off the mortgage, or get a deposit on a house. That would do it. I could relax a bit.
Sounds good, I agree. I met a man once who did just that, and bought an extra field and a horse. He took his horse and a cart around the village every day after that, and was very happy. A simple life. That’s all he wanted.
Cool. But didn’t he want anything else?
No, he was happy enough. He’d lived in the village all his life, with his family and friends. That was enough for him.
There you are then. You only need a bit.
Yes, but how much is a bit? I met another man who had won £2,000. “Lucky you”, I said.
“No, he complained. It’s a kick in the teeth, £2k. What can I do with that? That’s only enough to keep the wife happy for a couple of weeks”.
“A kick in the teeth?”
“Too right. I’d rather not have won anything”
“But for some people that’s life changing. They could buy a car which could get them a job”.
OK I get your point. If you’re miserable by nature perhaps money can’t help. But that was only £2,000. The other guy obviously got more.
He did. He won £80,000 in a syndicate win with his friends. But I got the feeling that the first would have very happy with an extra £2,000, and the second probably wouldn’t have been any happier with the jackpot win. It’s just the way they were.
Is that it, then? Just the way we are?
I think so. It’s nice to think that a magic ticket would change our level of happiness just like that. But imagine… say you got your gold lamborghini, did your round-the-world-trip, bought your dream house and had champagne for breakfast. Six months later you’re sitting in your dream kitchen and your champagne breakfast is nice, granted, but it doesn’t have the same wow-factor that it did the first week. And you realise that breakfast is breakfast, wherever you are, and you are still the same you. You might have a touch more tan and whiter teeth, but you’re still the same underneath. The only difference might be that you’ve nothing left to dream about because, frankly, you’ve done it. So what now? What’s left?
And then? That’s the trouble; we keep chasing our tails. Once we’ve got something, we want the next fix. It’s like an addiction. A habit we’ve got ourselves into, that we all subscribe to. We link money with happiness without thinking. Our whole society’s bound up in it. Ultimately, money fails us on a personal level.
Point taken. But I could give some to my friends, too. That would be nice. And some to charity. It’s not all bad. A few million could go a long way!
Yes, altruism is certainly a contributor to personal happiness. Giving is good.
But lottery winners get hassled, don’t they? Everyone asking for money. And working out how to distribute it. That’s a big responsibility. Hard to do the right thing.
Sure, there’s a lot of thinking to be done. And a lot of discernment. Working out who’s genuinely motivated, where best to focus your money, all those things. Not a bad problem though. Not if you can do good with it.
A tough one, though. You could lose a lot of friends and be left very untrusting.
Yes, it happens. And our friends are one of our primary ingredients for happiness. So it can be a major loss. Being without friends can make us more unhappy than we were before, very quickly. We’re social beings.
It’s not looking quite so attractive, winning the lottery…
Well, there’s a lot of good that can come of it. But as superman said, with great power comes great responsibility….
Maybe it’s responsibility we should be working on, then. You don’t need money for that. And friendships. Friends are free.
Not a bad idea. We could put the money we saved on tickets towards self-help books to share with friends. A self-help library! Then we might not feel the need for a ticket! 🙂
Is that the answer, do you think? Work collaboratively with our friends towards a happier society?
Funnily enough, they’ve been doing that in Bhutan since 1972. They made ‘Gross Domestic Happiness’ a priority above economic wealth.
You’re kidding! For real?
Yes, and they’re officially the happiest country in the world (the UK is about halfway in world ratings).
Why can’t we do that?
Why indeed… Here’s the World Happiness Report, compiled in 2013 by Richard Layard, John Helliwell and Jeffrey Sachs. Their aims are to end extreme poverty, achieve environmental sustainability, embrace social inclusion and operate under good government. Maybe you could use your lottery winnings to propel these aims?
Good idea, if I win. But I’ll start at the source. I’ll think more carefully about what makes me happy every day, and make sure those things feature regularly in my life. Friends, yoga, walking, making cakes… all that stuff…. perhaps I’m happier than I thought!
Here’s an account of a chance introductory encounter between two economists and a dentist, from Nick Powdthavee’s book ‘The Happiness Equation’. It’s a small mind-blower:
‘So tell me, are you happy being a dentist?’
‘Happy? I’m miserable as a dentist’, replied the man.
Chuck smiled to himself. ‘What? If you’re so unhappy, why on earth did you choose to become a dentist in the first place?’
‘I didn’t choose to become a dentist.’ The man took another swig of his drink before delivering the final hammer blow. ‘Its that stupid kid eighteen years ago that chose to become a dentist. Not me.’
Here’s the thing; as children we go about growing up. Much of that process is working out who we are. We find out what we like. We search for what we’re good at, and we use that information to form our habits. And that’s where we start messing up, because we look for external indicators. We watch our mum, dad, teachers and friends to see where our talents lie (we’ve not been on this planet long, so it makes perfect sense). We listen, and form our self-view; I’m this and that. I’m not that. If I work hard I could be this…ok I’ll do that. We move from I-like-animals to she-thinks-I-like-animals to I’d-make-a-good-vet.
Job done. I’m a vet. Or a dentist.
All from what we perceive others can see in us. It’s all perception. And perception is as tenuous as the wind.
This week was a small mind-blower for me. I don’t promote my blogs on facebook (I forayed. It felt wrong). But my friend Tony did for a recent post, and two others took up the mantle. It blew me away. The icing on the cake was a beautiful, generous comment a friend added, that came from nowhere and left me standing gob-smacked with my shoes half a kilometre on the road behind me.
I had no idea she ever reads my posts because, as she said, she hadn’t ever commented.
That’s the thing. We don’t know, because we don’t say. But the things we don’t say could have been the things that make the enormous difference; the things that take people off the path of being a dentist and on to the path of being a trapeze artist, or economist. The small comments that can take our breath away.
Thank you so much Claire. Thank you Charlie, Laura and Tony. It makes all the difference. And that’s well worth sharing 🙂
F.E.A.R. False Evidence Appearing Real. That’s a helpful tool at times, when our minds take us to scary places.
Stories can be great illuminators too. Here’s a lovely one to illustrate how our thoughts can affect our everyday lives. And I do mean every day. You may have heard it before. This version is from Philippa Perry. I like Philippa, not least because she’s married to Grayson. It’s from her book How to Stay Sane, a pocket-sized jewel.
The Jack Story
The deserts of America are lonely places; miles can go by without any other cars or a single house. In one of these wildernesses a driver heard his tyre blow. He was more annoyed than worried, knowing that he kept a spare tyre and a jack in his car boot. Then he remembered; he got the jack out last week and forgot to put it back. He had no jack. But things could be worse, because he passed a garage about three miles back. As he started walking, he talked to himself: ‘There aren’t any other garages around here. I’m at the garage man’s mercy. He could really rip me off just for lending me a jack. He could charge me what he wanted. He could charge $50. There is nothing I could do about it. Goddamn, he could even charge $150. People are terrible to take advantage of others like that. Hell, what bastards people are.’ He continued absentmindedly telling himself this story until he got to the garage. The attendant came out and said in a friendly way “How can I help you?” and the traveller said “You can take your damned jack and you can stuff it.’
We all carry personal versions of this story with us. The trick is to recognise them when they rear their heads. If we did, the world we experience could be a very different place.
I didn’t get the job because I wasn’t tough enough. I came across as being very student centred (tick) very approachable (tick) with excellent ideas about well-being and aspiration (tick) but just not tough enough in the discipline department. I concur. Fair cop. In my world, a good mentor doesn’t need a whip. They inspire.
What’s interesting is that this was advertised as a mentoring post, in a UK secondary school. They were clearly making good progress in student support – but as they said, they were fire-fighting. And as the appointed mentor in the sister post confided, they don’t do much mentoring. It’s disciplining.
That’s what we do, it seems. In crude terms, we sit on students to get them through to the end. In this case what the school wanted was someone who could do that with a friendly face. Someone to sit on the students whilst smiling.
Is it me, or is there something missing?
The Donaldson report on education in Wales wants to see six areas of learning and experience embedded into the curriculum: expressive arts and health and well-being are two of them. Funny that; I seem to remember Sir Ken Robinson’s report on the Arts in Schools, when I was training way back in the late 80s, recommended much the same thing. Round and round we go.
At least there’s a recognition out there. At least schools and heads want to see student welfare being prioritised. But we’re not there yet on the implementation front. Nearly, but not quite.
Some days things hurt a bit.
On those days it’s good to look out the window , beyond yourself.
Knowing yourself is a really good thing. If you don’t know and accept who you are, you can’t move forward. Knowing yourself is one of the key things needed to be happy. you can’t be authentic if you don’t know who you are.
That doesn’t mean you have to stay being that definition. We’re not static beings, and we need to grow. Personal growth is a key element of happiness too.
But just as it’s good to know yourself, too much looking inward can tie us in knots. In can isolate us, and we’re social beings. It can distort our perspective. Writers and musicians are highly prone to depression, and it’s easy to see why. We need to watch out.
Watch out, not in.
When we’re preoccupied with not receiving enough, we need to exercise our own giving. When we’re focussed on being poor, we could be grateful for what we have. You know the story. Turn it round. Get outside. See real people around you. Let the grumpy faces be a lesson and the smiling ones inspiration. Exercise your own smile. Practice your outness.
You’ll be glad you did.
“Mum”, Daniel asked me, “If you could be any superhero, which would you be?”
“Wonderwoman darling, obviously”
“I knew you’d say that. And what superpower would you have?”
“I’d have the ability to read people’s minds”.
“Because then I’d understand how people worked. I’d know how to talk to them. Learning how people think differently helps you look at things in different ways. And it would teach me how to help other people consider how they are approaching things too. Also, I’d know who to be scared of and who not to be scared of. Which is a good thing if you’re a superhero. It saves time.”
I didn’t need to ask Daniel who he would be. It’s Bear Grylls.
I passed the superpower question to Paul.
“Time travel. That would be mine. Seeing comparisons gives opportunity for reflection.”
“To increase your sense of gratitude?”
“You don’t need to time travel for that. Any sort of travelling brings that awareness.”
It’s not rocket science.