How to Be Happy, Part 2 by Christina Knowles

HappyEveryone wants to be happy, right? Well, at least most of us do. A few months ago, I published a blog called, “How to Be Happy,” which has been something I’ve really been considering lately. When I first decided to write a blog about being happy, I just went with my own life experiences and gut feelings, but recently I’ve been reading books, articles, research studies, and watching lots of documentaries on the subject, and I’ve learned about some things that make a lot of sense.

In my last article, I mentioned things like being part of a community, being grateful, not getting angry over insignificant things, doing meaningful work, being humble, laughing, being honest and thoughtful, enjoying time alone, eating right, spending time in nature, enjoying the arts, giving to charity, loving animals, and cultivating relationships. After studying the subject in more depth, I found that many of these things I noticed that made me happy were found to be true in cultures around the world, but there were also some things I didn’t mention that I think are quite profound. For one thing, things like our job, income, and life situations have little to do with how happy we are. As long as we have enough to eat, a warm shelter in which to live, and have moderate security, external sources have little lasting effect on happiness. But there are some things that we can do, in addition to what I wrote in my last article, that can have a great impact on our happiness. Here is what I found:

Do something different—Studies show that people, even the ones who think they like routine (like me), benefit from changing things up and doing something completely outside what they normally do (Happy). Novelty and experiences make us happy, and are often the source of our best memories. I really do need to work on this one.

Help people—In my last blog on this subject, I mentioned giving to charity, which does make you happy, but now I am talking about doing something more tangible. Instead of merely giving money, which is helpful, physically do something to help someone. I think it makes a person even more happy because giving money is too easy, but getting your hands dirty feels like you did something bigger, something personal. Helping people always makes you feel good, but only if you don’t expect anything in return. Expectations lead to disappointment and bitterness. But knowing how you made someone feel because you were willing to give up actual time to help him always leads to happiness.

Do things that create flow—Flow is that elated mental state caused by letting go of the mind and just experiencing an almost unconscious state of action that seems effortless (Happy). It’s that feeling of being in “the zone.” Runners experience this as “runner’s high” when they reach a point where they feel they can’t go on, and then endorphins kick in, and they feel like they could go on forever. I’ve experienced runner’s high and a similar feeling while figure skating. I also felt this while writing my novel. After hours of writing, it seemed like the book began writing itself. It was effortless. I’ve heard chefs on the line experience this flow. Anything that you enjoy and do for an extended period of uninterrupted time can become like a zero-point focus, totally absorbing, and all worries and conscious thoughts seem to let go, and you become completely at peace. Apparently, many people achieve this through meditation, but I’ve never been able to properly meditate. Maybe someday.

Exercise—Exercising releases endorphins, making us healthier and happier over all. Exercise often leads to experiencing flow. It makes us healthier, which also adds to contentment, and it can be fun—at least, I’m trying to convince myself.

Sleep—Everyone knows that lack of sleep makes you irritable and unhealthy, but getting enough rest makes you mentally healthier. Some psychologists believe that dreaming is necessary to sanity, but it is commonly known that a lack of sleep can cause depression, weight gain, emotional instability, and an inability to think clearly. Having enough sleep is important to maintain health and happiness. I could definitely use more sleep.

Don’t work too much–This is the hardest thing for most of us, I think. I know I work almost all the time–days, nights, weekends. There have been numerous studies that show countries whose people work 30 hours or less per week, have the most happy citizens, or Gross National Happiness. According to the latest studies, Japan is now the least happiest country due to overwork. They are literally working themselves to death (Happy). I’m sure Americans are not far behind. If you think about it, this one issue can affect all the rest. If we are busy working, trying to pay to keep up a lifestyle that will never make us happy, then we don’t have time for community, volunteering, exercise, sleep, relationships, etc. We won’t have time to do the things that will actually make us happy. But we have to work 40 hours just to survive. For many of us, our jobs require unpaid hours at home just to keep up. It’s a conundrum.

Realize that everything and everyone is connected—Whether we believe we are connected transcendentally, spiritually, or just through energy and commonality as Einstein realized, we affect each other and everything around us (I Am). When we war with each other, hate, steal, treat animals with cruelty, destroy our environment, we are doing this to ourselves. The same is true when we do good. If we realize this connection, we are less likely to harm each other. This makes everyone happier.

Don’t believe in artificial constructs—like the economy, success, and competition. I mean really, what is the “economy?” It’s something we created that seems to enslave most people and elevates a few. Money, the stock market–it only exists because we made it important for survival. It is completely artificial in itself. Success is defined by marketing companies, television and movies, corporations, and school boards. And competition? Isn’t it natural? Doesn’t it provide motivation? Make us feel happy when we win? Not really. Don’t buy into the idea that these constructs are natural and good, and that these are the things we should be most concerned with. People who do, often live with regret and waste most of their lives. Sure, we have to live in the world in which we were born, we have to survive in this system, but we don’t have to buy into the idea that these are the primary areas in which to strive. These things never lead to happiness.

Don’t compete—Human beings are always better off sharing, cooperating, and quite often, compromising. It makes us happier, so why are we so competitive? Our personal selfishness is always reinforced in our culture, as is standing out, being number one, and crushing the competition. But competition leads to stress and disappointment most of the time. It always leaves someone feeling bad.

But standing out—or better put, feeling special, is usually pleasant. Well, the best way to feel special is to be loved, and competition is not good for loving relationships. According to Thom Hartmann, author of The Last Hours of Ancient Sunlight, in Aboriginal and indigenous cultures, cooperation is given a much higher value than competition and “competition beyond certain boundaries is considered mental illness” (I Am). He studies cultures and animals to determine what is natural to us and what is a societal construct. He asks if democracies or hierarchies are more natural. He found that not only do animals rely on cooperation to survive, nature never takes more than it needs, or it dies off, as Darwin also realized. I think there is certainly a lesson for us in this. Even Darwin talked more about love and cooperation among mammals than “survival of the fittest.” Often the fittest is the one who will cooperate. Darwin also said that sympathy is one of the strongest impulses of humans (I Am).

Be empathetic and compassionate—We all share the ability for empathy. When we witness heroism, something touching, or empathize with someone going through something particularly emotional, we experience “elation” (I Am). We recognize this feeling of innate compassion for fellow beings as love and as good. This feeling makes us happy even while at the same time, we may be sad. This altruistic impulse is natural and inborn in every human, and the evidence overwhelmingly shows this tendency in other mammals as well within their own social groups, and sometimes even outside it. I prefer this “human nature” to that of the ruthless competitive “nature” that began as a flaw in childhood and was reinforced by our society. Compassion even makes us healthier, while competitiveness makes us sicker in the form of stress-related illness.

Think and be positive, and act positively—I’ve always scoffed at “positive thinkers.” I’ve never believed that we could change physical matter merely by thinking it into existence; however, more and more scientists are exploring this as a potentiality. I’ll wait for the evidence, but even if positive thinking cannot alter a physical situation, it certainly has an effect on how we perceive it—whether we take it as good or bad, and of course, our emotions in dealing with it. Acting positively will affect how others act toward us, which can positively alter our circumstances as well.

Finally, live in a way that causes the least harm to anyone or anything—If, every day, in every interaction, we consider what harm we may cause and choose the least harmful, the whole world would be a better place. We cannot avoid harm—just by existing, we cause harm to our environment. We eat plants and some of us eat animals, we live in houses, we drive cars, and produce waste. We get careless, and we say hurtful things or treat others with unkindness. However, we can choose the least harmful in every interaction with our world. We can plant gardens and use natural ways to keep pests away, we can refuse to consume meat that was raised inhumanely, we can use environmentally friendly materials and not take more than we need, we can conserve, and not waste. We can be responsible and kind. If we lived like this, how could we not be happy?Purpose

I’ve heard that our purpose, if we have one, on this planet is not to “be happy” and maybe it’s not, but it seems that we are driven to pursue it. What if being responsible, kind, and loving human beings was our purpose, and precisely because it is our purpose, it also makes us happy? Not the fleeting excitement of a new toy-kind of happiness, but joy, the deep, soul-contentment of being who we should be, who we are capable of becoming. —Christina Knowles

Sources

  • Happy. Wadi Rum Films, 2012. Film.
  • Happy Photo. yhponline.com. Web.15 May 2015.
  • Purpose Photo. Hippie Peace Freaks. Facebook. Web.15 May 2015.
  • I Am. Tom Shadyac. Flying Eye Productions, Homemade Canvas Production, and Shady Acres Films, 2010. Film.

“I Grieve” by Christina Knowles

“I Grieve”

BRITTANY_ALLEN_SCREAM1

Lost and faltering

Floundering in the sea

Of my indispensable need

Need that intensifies in the darkness

Unlimited and unending

How can I describe

The hollowness of loss?

Do I speak?

Will I risk the words

That once released

Continue out of control

Throughout the breath of eternity?

Shall I know the result

Of these intemperate thoughts?

Or slumber in the oblivion of the dead?

O, tranquil are the deaf

To the choruses of loss

For to speak, to give voice

To that which is in reality

A scream

Would spin this wheel interminably

Or if it be little more than a squeak

Choked and muffled by grief

Stutter and trip

to a premature conclusion

How then do I proceed

When lost and faltering, I grieve?

—Christina Knowles (2015)

Photo snagged from trulynet.com

“An Ocean of Possibility” by Christina Knowles

“An Ocean of Possibility”

fishes-underwater-on-a-tropical-beach-wallpaper_3960

Language in a thousand pieces

Inadequate to express

An ocean in a million directions

Overwhelmed but not afraid

The obvious creates meaning

Without limitations

Another recognizes the idea

As my mind reconsiders beauty

A jungle of first impressions

I dream of the possibility

I compose it

This silhouette

From my desires

The passion in me

Turns my reality into

Dreams

—Christina Knowles (2006)

Photo courtesy of Bing Images.

Daddy by Christina Knowles

Stone Today it has been two years since my father passed away. It feels funny even using the word father because he was a “daddy” in the truest sense of the word. Even my mom referred to him as Daddy. I’ve been wanting to write about him for some time, but where do I begin?

976359_10200842145130060_1501404558_o I could tell you he was a war hero. He served in World War II as a Marine in the South Pacific. He was a disabled veteran. He was proud of this fact. He was proud of America’s role in freeing the Jews from Nazi oppression and torture. He was proud of avenging the attack on Pearl Harbor and protecting America from invaders and defending freedom, in general. He was idealistic in his views of freedom for all, and I’ll always remember this about him, but this was not the main thing about him to me.Medals

To me, he was so much more than that. Again, where do I begin? He loved guns, boxing, and reading about war, which is so ironic because he was the most peaceful, gentle man I’ve ever known. He was loving, kind, peaceable, forgiving, accepting, friendly, engaging, and intelligent. He was a friend, a confidante, a sage giver of advice, a comedian, a protector, and a role model.

A lot of people are afraid of their dads—if not fear of punishment, then fear of disappointing them. I never was. My dad was not much of a disciplinarian, but we knew how he felt about things, particularly about being kind and honest. And it’s not that I didn’t care if he was disappointed in me, but he was so understanding that it was really hard to feel his disappointment. He expected us to make mistakes. I mean this in a good way. He just knew we were human. I did feel his pride, however, throughout my entire life.Young dad

I think what I respected most about him were his morals. My dad had high standards of morality for things that mattered. He believed in fairness, justice, but also kindness and mercy. He hated bullying, and he told us stories of standing up to adults, especially teachers, in defense of someone who was the target of unfairness or cruelty, particularly those who were weak or poor. He did not tolerate unkindness or cruelty in anyone, and I grew up with a strong sense of standing up for right even when the odds were against me. Rooting for the underdog is also something that I got from my dad.

531933_10200628139500053_493904080_n My dad was a family man. He devoted his life to being there for his wife and children. He enjoyed family life, and he liked to teach us things, do things with us, and just talk to us. He loved antiquing, and he would take anyone who would go with him, but he especially liked to go with my sister-in-law, Lisa, because she shared his love of wandering through antique shops. He was the best father-in-law anyone could ask for because he accepted every one into the family and loved them like they were his own.

Larry, Dave, and Dad            He really loved his children. He was so proud of my brother, Larry, for his natural intelligence and the way he could take anything apart and fix it. My dad encouraged each of us to pursue our passions, and he introduced Larry to one of his—ham radios. Larry was his firstborn, and he was so proud of him, his career, and his family.

904726_10200628143820161_1223600697_oWhen I was a teenager, my brother, Dave, moved to Colorado and stayed with us for a while. My dad loved this. He loved target shooting with my brothers, and when Dave was around, they did a lot of this. He and Dave were like best friends, doing everything together, including having a small moving business for a short time. They were so close that my dad was the best man at Dave’s wedding.

He loved teasing and joking with everyone, but especially my sister, Patricia. He’d get the biggest rise out of her, and thus, the most pleasure. Toward the end of his life, he came to depend on her the most as she and her husband, Bruce, were always there to pick up what he and my mom needed at the store or to do anything else they needed done, including taking them to appointments or visiting every day. He told me how much he loved and appreciated his sweet girl.625588_10200628139540054_1059301535_n-2

Dad and ConnieMy dad was super-proud of my sister, Connie too. He always talked about her with such admiration because she’s a scientist, and basically good at whatever she does. Connie was also always there for my mom and dad, seeing to their daily needs and just being company for them in their old age. My dad was not an educated man, but he was smart, and he respected that in my sister and admired all her accomplishments. He bragged about her to everyone he knew. She was his first little girl, and he loved to tell everyone how she grew up to be a brilliant scientist and worked at a university.

As for me, I probably put my parents through the most of any of their children, but my dad always acted like I was everything he wanted in a daughter. No matter what, he would always talk to me, tell me stories, discuss politics and social issues. Most teenagers don’t really like to talk to their parents that much, but I loved to talk to my dad, and his advice was always wise and realistic. I will always think of him as one of the wisest people I ever knew. I was the baby of the family, and I think to him, I was the baby, no matter how old I got.me and daddy

Daniel, Inky, and Dad My dad absolutely loved dogs, especially our family dog, Inky. He was so crazy about this dog that I don’t think he ever got over losing him. Even in his old age, he would reminisce and tell funny stories about his beloved friend and get a tear in his eye. He also told us stories about his childhood dog, Ol’ Blue. Blue was loyal till the end, and my dad was loyal to him, recounting his adventures for the next 70 years. I can see why my dad loved dogs so much. They share a lot in common. Dogs are noble creatures, loving, loyal, dependable, and congenial, just like him. I inherited the same love for dogs.

554891_10200628148580280_2100448453_n My dad loved kids, which explains why he was such a good father. Every time I saw him as an adult, he would ask me about my life and about my kids. He loved all his grandkids, and his grandkids always loved to play with him. He could always make them laugh so hard, especially when he would chase them through the house with his dentures half out of his mouth. He was always hilarious and joking around. At least when he wasn’t telling us stories.

He loved to talk about the war, but never the bad part. He never talked about death or killing. He talked about the way he and his platoon joked around and the fun they had. He’d tell us about the places he’d been, but not the horror he’d seen. But that’s what he always did. He focused on the good; he had fun, and so did everyone else who spent time with him.

The only time my dad would ever get really mad was when someone was picking on someone else. Like I said, he hated bullies. One of my fondest memories of him was when I was in the first grade. I had a really sadistic teacher, and she used to call me to the front to work out math problems on the board because she knew I didn’t understand them. We did not have a lot of money, and I was the only one in the class who brought my lunch in a brown paper bag. In fact, I reused the bag until it was soft and wrinkled and practically falling apart while my classmates had metal lunch boxes depicting the latest popular TV shows. Well, one day my teacher made fun of me in front of the whole class about my worn out lunch bag and its contents, which unlike my classmates, contained no pre-packaged Doritos or Twinkies, but modest homemade food. I denied it was mine, and when we were released for recess, I ran home and told my dad that we got out early. A short time later, the teacher called home and told my dad I’d left without permission. I told my dad how she made fun of me, and he was very angry at her. He told her that I would not be returning to school that afternoon because he was not going to subject me to her anymore that day. He made me my favorite lunch, and we sat side-by-side on the couch watching cartoons the rest of the afternoon.

That’s the kind of person he was in a nutshell. The kind of person who cared about people’s feelings, who stood up for those who’d fallen, who made everyone feel better, who made everyone know that they were special and valued, just for being themselves. I never knew a more kind and loving man.

547698_10200633338790032_1617648242_n-2 He loved my mother. And my mom was wild about him. My dad was a pretty laid-back kind of guy, but when anything was wrong with my mom, he worried. If my mom was sick, my dad could think of nothing else until she was well again. When my parents were old and living in a nursing home, my dad’s health would plummet every time my mom would have a health issue, just from concern.

He was a man of faith, a Christian, and he looked forward to being done with the pains of old age. He was ready to go long before my mom would let him. My brothers and sisters and I are convinced that he lived only because she needed him. He hung on for her—because she told him to. And when she finally gave him permission to go, he did, entrusting her to us for just a little while. My mom passed away in November of 2014.

So that’s who he was, and if you didn’t know him, thank you for reading all about him. You would’ve liked him, and most likely, he would have liked you, unless you are a bully, of course.

Funeral I got the best of who I am from him, and I am so grateful to have had the pleasure of being raised by him—my dad, Harold R. Pitman (August 7, 1925-April 17, 2013). I love you, Daddy.—Christina Knowles

Entropy by Christina Knowles

Melting_Snow“Entropy”

Shimmering snow, delicate and fine

Each intricate flake is one

Unique in its design

But just another drop of water in the burning sun

Forming into crystals

Its hardening has begun

Then melting, drips—it ripples

Just another drop of water in the burning sun

Flakes, so fragile

Their formations, valiantly they’ve won

Glittering, they dazzle

But last but a moment In the burning sun

Smoothly frozen once again

Now merging into one

Newly impenetrable until when

It’s just another drop of water in the burning sun

Change is constant, it is written

Transformation is never done

The end is always hidden

In a drop of water in the burning sun

When at last, a vapor, it surely will succumb

To the scorching of the burning sun—Christina Knowles (2015)

Photo from rochesterinsurance.com

“Seeds” by Christina Knowles

WatermelonSeeds

“Seeds”

I ate of watermelon sweet.

I barely chewed its pulp as it—

It slid along my throat so slick,

Like water sliding off a rock,

Its smoothness trickled down my neck.

I sucked its juice and tasted life—

A slice of pale red paradise.

Inhaling breaths between large bites,

I choked upon a little seed—

A small black spot—reality.

Christina Knowles (2000)

“Music Lives Here” by Christina Knowles

Snagged from hqwallbase.com
Snagged from hqwallbase.com

A special kind of music lives here

Amidst the mountain mist

Its benevolence is strangely clear

The circling of a breeze so crisp

Carries its message softly to my ear

The oneness of the universe insists

On fracturing my frail veneer

Lost in this musical tryst

A twig breaks—a deer

Meeting, our gaze lingers—we coexist

In this moment, we disappear

Through millennia, we drift

Lifted beyond the stratosphere

Soaring above the swift

Spirits who insouciantly appear

Dipping down into the midst

Of crested mountains sheer

Eagles we enlist

To retrieve a souvenir

Of this infinite moment where we exist

When the music living here

Brushed us with its fragrant kiss

And disappeared

—Christina Knowles (2015)

Book Review: Brenda Vicars’ Polarity in Motion

Snagged from Amazon.com
Snagged from Amazon.com

Polarity Weeks was already having a rough time of it. Switching schools, dealing with her mother’s Borderline Personality Disorder, and struggling to fit in are hard enough, but Polarity is shocked to discover that her latest problem has nothing to do with anything she or her family has done. When a nude photo of her suddenly begins to circulate among the students at her high school and on the internet, she has no idea where it came from or what to do about it. This novel deals with the all-too-real issues faced by the modern teenager living in a high tech age while navigating the age old problems of friends, parents, school, and popularity.

I really loved this book. At first I was turned off by the title and the main character’s name, but there is actually a touching story behind the name, Polarity. Although this book is categorized as a romance, it is so much more than that. It’s an intriguing mystery, which kept me turning the pages. It’s about bullying and relationships and about dealing with teenage drama in high school. It’s about dealing with parents and mental illness. It’s about issues with social media and technology and about being powerless in the system. It’s about growth and prejudice, and it’s about finding out who you are, who you are becoming, and who you want to be.

But my favorite part of the book, the part that struck an emotional chord in me, was the horrifying reality of Polarity’s daily tight-rope act of dealing with her mother’s mental illness. It was beautifully written and realistic. I didn’t know much about Borderline Personality Disorder, but I assume Vicars did her research because Polarity’s mom was startlingly real. Vicars manages to make the reader sympathetic to Mrs. Weeks, even while hoping for Polarity to escape her verbal and emotional abuse.

Vicars also writes Polarity’s character so smoothly that she seamlessly grows throughout the story from a passive introvert into a strong-willed and confident girl without ever seeming like a different person. I love a book that leaves me wanting more, and I want to know what happens in her life next. I enjoyed Ethan, the grandmother, and Polarity’s father as well.

As a high school teacher, I’m going to tell my students that this is a must-read! It would also be great to teach in a class because of the character growth and symbolism in the story. I just recently read Laurie Halse Anderson’s Speak, and really enjoyed it, but I think I actually enjoyed this one even more! Highly recommend. 5 out of 5 stars.–Christina Knowles

Buy it: Polarity in Motion by Brenda Vicars

“Apprentice” by Christina Knowles

“Apprentice”

GoodFon.su
GoodFon.su

Chipped wood

Nicked and dented

Purposely abused to create

What was not earned

Am I a craftsman then?

Or a liar?

Fabricated walls

“Aged” plaster

Crackled paint chips

Shards that flake off into

My shaking hand

Like broken glass

Glass like metal shavings

Their fragmented images

Steal my light

Sending it in a dozen different

Directions

Confusing me

With ambiguous fingers

Pointing first this way

Then that, iridescent swirling hope

A spectrum of half-truths

Promise the possibility

Of a lovely destruction

Even an apprentice can make something

Beautiful

Now and then

–Christina Knowles (2015)

On Turning 50 by Christina Knowles

IMG_2412Turning 50 is supposed to be some kind of milestone, right? I should be feeling down about crossing over the threshold of another decade. But I’m not—at all. On the contrary, I have never felt better about myself. And it has nothing to do with how physically fit I am (LOL). It has everything to do with being comfortable with who I am and where I am in my life.

I have heard many women say that getting older is very freeing, and I find it to be so true. I have never cared less about what other people think about me. I mean this in the best possible way. It’s like I just don’t have time for bullshit anymore. I am who I am, and I am more and more unwilling to act like I’m anything else. I say my opinion, and if you agree, fine. If you don’t, I respectfully don’t care.BabyChristina

I am getting some gray hair, my wrinkles are taking up more and more space on my face, and I have put on a few pounds since last year. I, personally, think I look great. I am healthy and happy. I like me.

I recently started teaching college; I have left my comfort zone to teach things I have never taught before this year, and I am ROCKING it. My professional life is progressing in wonderful directions. I am planning the publication of my second book this year, a book of poetry, I’m working on a short story collection, and I have an absolutely fabulous novel in progress. I have many more plans in the works professionally as well. There’s a certain respect, which I enjoy, now that I have years of experience under my belt as well.

I am completely in love with my husband and couldn’t be happier in that realm. I look forward to growing old with someone with whom I can be completely myself. My relationship with my daughter has blossomed into the adult friendship of love and mutual respect I always hoped it would. I have numerous interests and enjoy so much about my life.

I have the most amazing friends and enjoy many adventures and fun times with them. Getting older really allows for much more satisfying friendships because I don’t have time for bullshit in that realm either. My friends and I share our lives on an honest, bullshit-free level with no drama. This is the way friendship should be.

I know who I am, what’s important to me, and the way I want to live my life. My philosophy, beliefs, and my political opinions are well-established. I’m done worrying over such things or caring about what other people think about my views.Scan 54_2

And the weird thing about getting older, which is also very cool, is that with the exception of this straightforward feeling of freedom about who I am, I still feel like who I have always been. Scan 54I still feel like the excited little girl opening her birthday presents, the little girl who can’t sleep late on Christmas morning because she is too excited to open presents, and the little girl who loves to walk barefoot in the damp grass, picking daisies to put in her starting-to-gray hair. That will always be me, and I’m glad.—Christina Knowles 🙂

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