Gloomy is the only way I can describe this day. A second telephone interview for a promising job never materialized, which seemed to set the tone for the day.
I applied for numerous positions. I found an old blog and read through various years. I even found some things that sounded true and touching among the hubris and chaff.
I worked-out to combat the gloomies and felt almost instant relief. Our brains release dopamine when we exercise. This is an excellent reason for me to exercise every chance I get.
On this gloomy inside-and-out day I forced myself to watch a documentary: Happy.
The first point made was that brisk and regular exercise are essential for a person's physical and mental well being, as exercise releases dopamine. :) I was tired and uninspired and kept pedaling. Things were looking up just a tad.
The unhappiest people in the world, according to studies and statistics, are the Japanese. Their stressful work-centric lifestyle and extrinsic goals of achieving status, perfecting their image, and earning money is believed to be the root of this unhappiness. It is becoming so common for relatively young people to work themselves literally to death that they have a word for it: Karōshi.
Despite having every physical comfort, the subjects depicted were constantly plagued by worry, even during rare opportunities to socialize with friends and relax with family.
Fluorescent, neon, and LEDs seemed the only source of light in their affluent yet bleak lives.
Just as these ambitious professional people traded happiness for prosperity, I couldn't help asking myself if I were the opposite side of that coin. Do I spend my recent windfall of free time worrying about not having a job, and therefore status, and money? On a day like today, yes, the answer is a resounding yes.
In contrast, the filmmakers interviewed the so-called disenfranchised: a rickshaw driver in the slums of India, a Cajun family in the swamps of Louisiana, a divorced woman of three on co-op farm house in Denmark, a tribe of hunter-gatherer bushman in the Kalahari desert in Namibia, and a retirement village in Okinawa. Two things these groups all had in common were strong relationships with friends and/or family and brisk daily activity.
I once was seduced by the flash of city lights, and those city lights took many forms. Ironically, those city lights, in all their forms, would become what I recently described as "different colored doorways I thought would let me in one day," but didn't. Was it disappointment, failure, exhaustion or just the realization that I didn't want that life? Perhaps a combination of all. I realize that dazzling city lights pale to the twinkle of star lights, or the sun setting on a river, or the taste of fresh fish, or being with someone who loves me.
People are generally motivated by two different types of goals: extrinsic goals (money, image, status) and intrinsic goals (personal growth, relationships, helping others). – Extrinsically oriented people tend to get stuck on the hedonic treadmill. Intrinsically oriented people are more happy.
I think about my intrinsic goals and their importance in my life: writing, relationships, wellness, creativity, and how they've been crowded out by worry, depression, fear, and hopelessness.
Optimism should not be a luxury.
Gloomy is a choice.
I can only control a few things in my life right now. (Actually, that is always the case.) I can't control a hiring manager. I can control how well I take care of myself. I can decide to have a down day and be okay with it and turn it into a relaxation day. I can turn the gloom around and be productive.
I have a two tasks before me. I need to write a play well before springtime. And I was given the chance to write a book for a series called "Leading Women." I think part of the reason I got gloomy was because I got overwhelmed in fear that I could not do this task.
I can do this task. It's one of the few things in my life I can control right now.
I can control how hard I work on it. I can control how open I am to learning. I can control how often I spend writing and thinking about my play. I can control how often I go outside, even when it's freezing cold.
I can watch the snow come down about six weeks ahead of schedule and not get sad.
I can go along with someone else's happiness and fake it til I make it.
The weather was grey and sullen, and I didn't feel like going anywhere. Larry talked me into trying a new state park: Summit Lake. On the way, we stopped at an orchard and picked up winesap apples and butternut squash. I also bought gifts to take for Thanksgiving--local honey, salsa, and jams. We bought fresh cider and hot cider donuts, and ate them as we traveled down a long dirt road, laughing all the way. Imagine the taste of these warm, sweet, cinnamon softness.
We arrived to Summit Lake, yet another Indiana man-made lake. Does this state have any naturally occurring bodies of water? It was flat and grey and deserted and very Eyre-y. But I was with a loved one and we joined hands and walked the moors on a moody day.
I thought of all the beautiful vistas we've watched together...the time we chased sunsets all over the beaches of Southern California, stopping at a bodega in Manhattan beach to buy wine, cheese, and chocolate, the three food groups. I thought of the snow capped islands of Glacier Bay, the clouds of the Smokeys, and the dunes of Cape San Blas.
The thick grey air and brown heather and bare trees did indeed invoke emotions. I was suddenly transformed to England, where I spent two of my formative years as a young adult. The terrain of England intrigued me then, but it was emerald green, and much prettier than this. But starkness has its own beauty. So I walked the moors and let my moods stir.
Staring at a man-made lake when you grew up on Lake Michigan can be a depressing task, but if I couldn't find happiness in being outside in nature and letting my imagination fill in the gaps, then I have no one to blame myself.
I won't lie. It was hard. If nothing else, it makes me appreciate the beauty of other places.
Monday I hosted dinner for Ralf & Jim and my new roomie, Jay. Ralf & Jim had us over numerous times this summer, and this was my turn to return to the favor. I spent all day shopping and cleaning. Ralf likes comfort food but Jim is a food snob and nary the twain the shall meet. I decided on an upscale comfort food menu.
I made venison meatloaf (thanks to my dad for the venison), squash and apple soup, mashed cauliflower, Carprese salad, and apple crisp.
Tuesday I celebrated Larry's birthday. We had a massage at Woodhouse spa then came back to my house, and I made him dinner: pan fried blue gill (thanks dad for the blue gill!), garlic mashed potatoes, salad, birthday cake and ice cream, and gave him presents.
Life could be so much worse.
I could be so much better!
I think I will be!
Look at me, world!
I am writing a play! My first book is being published! I have a wonderful man! I have lots of free time! And this week is Thanksgiving, and I get to see my family!
My life is full of luxury items.
Green grass of summer, red leaves of autumn, white snow of winter
Milkweed is the cotton of the north
Brooding on the moors
Pan-fried blue gill on carprese salad with squash/apple soup and red wine
Summit Lake
Indiana Stonehenge
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