my #1 happiness tip

Just smile.

It's that simple. Those days, or moments - and I am sure you have them too - when I feel petulant or miserable, I force myself to smile. A big, wide, toothy smile. I usually take the time to do so on the way to whatever it is I am about to do, whether it is a meeting, a shift at work, a tutorial at uni, lunch with a friend, a date with my boyfriend... just contorting my lips into an upwards curve, which gradually, miraculously, makes me feel lighter and happier. 

There is, of course, a scientific explanation for the phenomenon. The act of smiling releases endorphins and seratonin, which gives us an immediate sense of well-being. I think there is a further benefit, though, other than the biological aspect. Smiling through my tears, anger or hurt makes me realise that my unhappiness is rarely, if ever, the result of terrible things happening to me - but, rather, a reluctance to be happy... usually because I am feeling acutely weary or nurturing a penchant for self-pity.

It's not that I think that unhappiness is something to be shirked at all costs. Sarah Wilson has written a couple of lovely posts about why it is perfectly okay to be sad. (Here and here, the latter is my favourite.) Life is not all rainbows and butterflies, after all. Sometimes it is really devastating and completely unfair and utterly irritating. Hiding, disguising or pushing aside our true feelings can be exhausting and honesty can be a good, healthy thing... best utilised, I think, when we are alone, or with those close to us.  

But there are, without a doubt, times when being sad is not conducive. Like when we have work to do. Or when we are celebrating somebody else's special day. Or when our lover arrives home from a long day at work. Or when we have to interact with perfectly innocent bystanders who don't deserve our wrath. It is those times, and many others, when the right thing to do is to rise above our melancholy and plaster a smile on our faces. Because that is all it can take, sometimes, to be happy. 

"Turn your face to the sun and the shadows fall behind you."

— Maori Proverb

the searchers

"I am one of the searchers. There are, I believe, millions of us. We are not unhappy, but neither are we really content. We continue to explore life, hoping to uncover its ultimate secret. We continue to explore ourselves, hoping to understand. We like to walk along the beach, we are drawn by the ocean, taken by its power, its unceasing motion, its mystery and unspeakable beauty. We like forests and mountains, deserts and hidden rivers, and the lonely cities as well. Our sadness is as much a part of our lives as is our laughter. To share our sadness with one we love is perhaps as great a joy as we can know - unless it be to share our laughter.

We searchers are ambitious only for life itself, for everything beautiful it can provide. Most of all we love and want to be loved. We want to live in a relationship that will not impede our wandering, nor prevent our search, nor lock us in prison walls; that will take us for what little we have to give. We do not want to prove ourselves to another or compete for love.

For wanderers, dreamers, and lovers, for lonely men and women who dare to ask of life everything good and beautiful. It is for those who are too gentle to live among wolves."

— James Kavanaugh (There Are Men Too Gentle to Live Among Wolves)

a bundle

"Here I am, a bundle of past recollections and future dreams, knotted up in a reasonably attractive bundle of flesh."

— Sylvia Plath

be awake enough

"I have no advice for anybody; except to, you know, be awake enough to see where you are at any given time, and how that is beautiful, and has poetry inside. Even places you hate."

— Jeff Buckley

On a lighter note... I probably should have mentioned yesterday how important I also think it is to, as Jeff Buckley says, be awake enough to experience the infinite beauty in the world. So here is a touching video by talented 17-year-old filmmaker Josh Beattie, who wrote, directed and composed the music to this gorgeous little film. Thank you to Natalie Perkins for the link, via her marvellous blog Definatalie.

To Claire: From Sonny

the essence

"When you start to know someone, all their physical characteristics start to disappear. You begin to dwell in their energy, recognize the scent of their skin. You see only the essence of the person, not the shell. That’s why you can’t fall in love with beauty. You can lust after it, be infatuated by it, want to own it. You can love it with your eyes and your body but not your heart. And that’s why, when you really connect with a person’s inner self, any physical imperfections disappear, become irrelevant."

— Lisa Unger, Beautiful Lies

some things I am loving this week

1. What will future generations condemn us for? by Kwame Anthony Appiah

This brilliant article for the Washington Post (which is fast becoming my favourite publication for thoughtful, considered journalism) contemplates what our children and children's children will look back on in dismay and wonder... What were people thinking? Kwame outlines three signs that a current practice is destined for future condemnation: arguments against the practice; counter-arguments invoking tradition, human nature or necessity, as opposed to morals; and supporters engaging what Kwame terms "strategic ignorance" of the realities of the practice, usually the human cost. This is definitely piece of writing that opens your mind and makes you question the state of society today.

2. Carey Mulligan for Vogue Magazine

Isn't she adorable? If you haven't seen An Education yet, you must. You can see the full shoot here, at Tom and Lorenzo's blog.

As I side note, reading Tom and Lorenzo's evaluation of this shoot led me to realise that there are different appreciations of beauty amongst different groups. Of course, I am grossly generalising here and I mean absolutely no offence but, for example, heterosexual men tend to love Megan Fox; gay men are smitten with Cate Blanchett; and women love Sarah Jessica Parker (whose beauty a lot of men just cannot fathom). So the criteria seems to be: straight men, sexiness; gay men, fabulousness (which equates to confidence and put-togetherness - not a word, I know!); and women, quirkiness, style, prettiness. Of course that does not take into consideration the extremely wide spectrum of inclinations within each of those groups, but it does show that there is an infinite amount of space in the world for the celebration and appreciation of all kinds of beauty (and not just that "perfection" found on the red carpet and the pages of fashion magazines).

3. Vanilla Scented's "crib"

Openness, simplicity and lightness... just gorgeous.

4. It Gets Better, by Dan Savage

This video is part of the It Gets Better campaign which aims to fight suicide amongst gay teens. Dan and Terry explain that high school is not life; as soon as it is over, we are free to create a wonderful, amazing life - the best revenge to those awful bullies who plague high school years for anybody who is a little different (and doesn't expend all their energy trying to hide it).

5. This Simone de Beauvoir quote

"I am awfully greedy; I want everything from life, I want to be a woman and to be a man, to have many friends and to have loneliness, to work much and write good books, to travel and enjoy myself, to be selfish and to be unselfish… You see, it is difficult to get all which I want. And then when I do not succeed I get mad with anger."

- Simone de Beauvoir

decorate your own soul

“After a while you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul, and you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning and company doesn’t mean security, and you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts and presents aren’t promises, and you begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes open, with the grace of an adult, not the grief of a child, and you learn to build all your roads on today because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans. After a while you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much. So plant your own garden and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. And you learn that you really can endure… that you really are strong, and you really do have worth.”

— Veronica A. Shoffstall

the diary of anaïs nin

It was with high hopes that I ordered The Diary of Anaïs Nin Volume 1 (1931-1934) online, and it arrived at my house via airmail just a couple of days ago. I know this may sound soppy and/or presumptuous but, after reading just one chapter, I already know that we are kindred spirits. (Although she is clearly much more eloquent and insightful; she is a literary genius, after all.)

When I look at the large green iron gate from my window it takes on the air of a prison gate. An unjust feeling, since I know I can leave the place whenever I want to, and since I know that human beings place upon an object, or a person, this responsibility of being the obstacle when the obstacle lies always within one's self.

In spite of this knowledge I always stand at the window staring at the large closed iron gate, as if hoping to obtain from the contemplation a reflection of my inner obstacles to a full, open life.

* * *

You live like this, sheltered, in a delicate world, and you believe that you are living. Then you read a book (Lady Chatterly, for instance), or you take a trip... and you discover that you are not living, that you are hibernating. The symptoms of hibernating are easily detectable: first, restlessness. The second symptom (when hibernating becomes dangerous and might degenerate into death): absence of pleasure. That is all. It appears like an innocuous illness. Monotony, boredom, death. Millions live like this (or die like this) without knowing it. They work in offices. They drive a car. They picnic with their families. They raise children. And then some shock treatment takes place, a person, a book, a song, and it awakens them and saves them from death.

Some never awaken. They are like the people who go to sleep in the snow and never awaken. But I am not in danger because my home, my garden, my beautiful life do not lull me. I am aware of being in a beautiful prison, from which I can only escape by writing.

I think every one of us has experienced the "shock treatment" Anaïs writes of. It is that spark of inspiration we feel when we come across someone or something that simply speaks to our heart. You know, that "ah ha" moment that gives us the impression that we are sharing our lives with others; that we are not the "only one". Sometimes that glimmering revelation reflects our deepest, darkest fears. Other times we are presented with what our lives are missing. Perhaps we may be reminded of the past; a forgotten moment, feeling or hope. These epiphanies shake us to our core, waking us up from the routine of our everyday lives and prompting us to reassess. It may be that we have meandered from our course; it could be that an unrealised dream lies laden within us; we may have lost our spirit; or, alternatively, we are on the right path, but harbour unfounded self-doubts. Whatever it is that we discover, we have been granted the opportunity to resume our lives with a newfound consciousness, afresh.

I am constantly trying to inspire myself; I admit that I have become quite addicted to these "shock treatments". I use this blog to share them with others, though I think it is inevitable that not everybody will relate to everything I post. You know when you read or see or meet somebody or something so profound that you feel compelled to show others, and they just don't respond the same way? I feel as though writing a blog is like that. I really hope that you can see where I am coming from; but if you can't, that is okay. It's not my fault, nor yours. We are just not in the same place, at least not at this moment in time.

You may have already noticed, but just so you know, things that have moved me include Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert, Sarah Wilson's blog, Haruki Murakami quotes, (500) Days of Summer, every Missy Higgins song, Benjamin Law's pieces in frankie magazine, Elizabethtown (the fifth time I watched it), Alain de Botton's twitter feed, Barack Obama's speech at the 2008 Democratic National Convention, Begin by Ben Lee, Josh Thomas' comedy shows, Maya Angelou, the Harry Potter series, My So-Called Life, Joshua Radin's music (especially Today, Closer and Winter), Lost in Translation and the Japanese word setsunai, which is "a feeling of sadness and loneliness so powerful that it feels as if your chest is constricted, as if you can't breathe; a sadness that is physical and tangible" (via Leigh Sales' The Beauty of Foreign Words).

"We’re so caught up in our everyday lives that events of the past, like ancient stars that have burned out, are no longer in orbit around our minds. There are just too many things we have to think about every day, too many new things we have to learn. New styles, new information, new technology, new terminology … But still, no matter how much time passes, no matter what takes place in the interim, there are some things we can never assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away. They remain with us forever, like a touchstone."

— Haruki Murakami (Kafka on the Shore)

(Picture via The Vault of Beauty)

some things I'm loving this week

1. Eyewitness, The Guardian

Playing cricket in Kabul, by Mauricio Lima

The Guardian's Eyewitness is my single favourite iPad app. While most newspapers have simply rehashed their websites' layout and content, The Guardian took a different tact. Each day, a stunningly beautiful photograph is featured, providing insight into what is happening in any one corner of the world. It is one thing to read about an event, natural disaster, political situation or way of life; it is another to see it so clearly that you feel as though you are part of it.

2. Fatal Distraction: Forgetting a Child in the Backseat of the Car is a Horrifying Mistake. Is it a Crime? by Gene Weingarten

Winner of the 2010 Pulitzer Prize for Feature Writing, this Washington Post article stopped me in my tracks. Parents forgetting their child in the backseat of their car is a devastatingly common occurrence (15 to 25 times a year in the United States); one which results in a tragically avoidable death, with absolutely no intent behind it. These horrific mistakes made by otherwise loving, attentive parents are a reflection of our busy, selfless modern lives; each of these parents were distracted by millions of thoughts running through their heads, multitudes of responsibilities weighing upon their shoulders. Who are we to judge these good people? Why do we feel the need to? I think people find it disconcerting to accept that no wrongdoing took place in these situations. Helplessness ensues when we realise that an innocent child was killed, and nobody is to blame for their death. Without redemption or justice for this lost life, it is almost impossible to shake that awful, raw, empty feeling in the pit of our stomachs.

3. Forever Love, by Leila Koren

My boyfriend Andy introduced me to this gorgeous wedding video. Jeremedy, one half of the duo who wrote and performed the feature song, also heads one of his favourite "Aussie hip-hop" bands (I don't know which one, perhaps somebody could enlighten me!) The song was his wedding present to the blissful couple. (He is the groomsman with the hair.)

Although I do want to get married one day, the idea of an extravagant white wedding doesn't sit

quite

right with me. Not that I would ever deny anybody the pleasure of having the wedding they want - whether that is in a beautiful old church or a simple registry office; wearing a princess dress or old jeans; with a thousand guests or two. It's just that the sweet simplicity of this wedding makes my heart sing; so, deep down, I just know it is what I want for myself.

4. Permission to Quit the Low-Rent Experiences, by Sarah Wilson

As my loyal readers would know, I just cannot collate a best-of list without including one of Sarah Wilson's insightful blog posts. This particularly lovely one urges us to allow ourselves the freedom to drop those niggling obligations that we really don't want to do, and to take up things that may seem silly or frivolous, but secretly delight us. It is inspired by a blog post by Danielle LaPorte, of White Hot Truth. One of my favourite "permissions" that Danielle gives us is to "check your email whenever the hell you want". I always feel guilty for reading my emails first thing in the morning, and often throughout the day, because I have been told so many times how inefficient and needy it is. As Danielle says in her latest post, 7 tiny big life shifters: Screw it. I LIKE to check my email first thing in the morning. It doesn't mean that I'm a distracted workaholic, it means I'm an excited Creative who loves her friends and new friends and what she does with her day. I feel better now!

Permission to... Eat dessert first.

5. Throwing Away the Alarm Clock by Charles Bukowski

my father always said, "early to bed and
early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy
and wise."

it was lights out at 8 p.m. in our house
and we were up at dawn to the smell of
coffee, frying bacon and scrambled
eggs.

my father followed this general routine
for a lifetime and died young, broke,
and, I think, not too
wise.

taking note, I rejected his advice and it
became, for me, late to bed and late
to rise.

now, I'm not saying that I've conquered
the world but I've avoided
numberless early traffic jams, bypassed some
common pitfalls
and have met some strange, wonderful
people

one of whom
was
myself—someone my father
never
knew.

(via The Writer's Almanac)

"I look up at the sky, wondering if I'll catch a glimpse of kindness there, but I don't. All I see are indifferent summer clouds drifting over the Pacific. And they have nothing to say to me. Clouds are always taciturn. I probably shouldn't be looking up at them. What I should be looking at is inside of me. Like staring down into a deep well. Can I see kindness there? No, all I see is my own nature. My own individual, stubborn, uncooperative often self-centred nature that still doubts itself--that, when troubles occur, tries to find something funny, or something nearly funny, about the situation. I've carried this character around like an old suitcase, down a long, dusty path. I'm not carrying it because I like it. The contents are too heavy, and it looks crummy, fraying in spots. I've carried it with me because there was nothing else I was supposed to carry. Still, I guess I have grown attached to it. As you might expect."

— Haruki Murakami (What I Talk About When I Talk About Running)

the banquet

"According to Aristophanes in Plato's The Banquet, in the ancient world of legend there were three types of people. In ancient times people weren't simply male or female, but one of three types : male/male, male/female or female/female. In other words, each person was made out of the components of two people. Everyone was happy with this arrangement and never really gave it much thought. But then God took a knife and cut everyone in half, right down the middle. So after that the world was divided just into male and female, the upshot being that people spend their time running around trying to locate their missing half."

— Haruki Murakami (Kafka on the Shore)

my world

"I do feel that I’ve managed to make something I could maybe call my world…over time…little by little. And when I’m inside it, to some extent, I feel kind of relieved. But the very fact I felt I had to make such a world probably means that I’m a weak person, that I bruise easily, don’t you think? And in the eyes of society at large, that world of mine is a puny little thing. It’s like a cardboard house: a puff of wind might carry it off somewhere."

— Haruki Murakami (After Dark)

mountains and rivers

"If I had my life to live over, I’d dare to make more mistakes next time. I’d relax; I’d limber up. I would be sillier than I have been this trip. I would take fewer things seriously. I would take more chances. I would climb more mountains and swim more rivers. I would eat more ice cream and less beans. I would perhaps have more actual troubles, but I’d have fewer imaginary ones."

— Nadine Stair

the notebook

**NB I wrote this post last week, so apologies if it seems out of sync - it is!

I have a lot of notebooks. The majority of them are pretty pink moleskins, preferably not ruled. (The lines tend to be too close together, plus they are futile - I have mastered the art of writing in a straight line). They each have a function... a food diary, a shopping list, inspirational quotes, money I owe my mother, story/blog ideas, to-do lists... you get the picture.

So, this week, I bought a new notebook. And I have entitled it "compliments".

That's right, a notebook dedicated solely to documenting the compliments I receive. Does this sound a little vain and vapid? That's okay - it was my first reaction, too. I laughed at my own silliness and pushed it out of my mind.

I've had a change of heart, though. It all started a few Mondays ago, when I received an email from my favourite writer/blogger in the whole world. I'm sure you can guess who she is - it's not exactly a secret. She gave me the gift of some kind, encouraging words and told me that she "REALLY liked" this blog (her caps, not mine, by the way). Naturally, I was over the moon. I could not wipe the smile off my face.

Fast-forward to this week. The elation of the email had faded into nothing. I'd woken up at 5 o'clock every morning to go the gym for the last three days and, because I was so tired, was continually falling asleep in my lectures. (I hadn't actually fallen asleep, but you know... drifting off and feeling your eyes closing before you snap back to attention, only to find yourself drifting off again... It's disconcerting.) I was getting ready to go to a dinner and I was feeling fretful and insecure. I wanted to appear vivacious and charming to the people I would be with but all I could think was how boring and unsightly I was. I was not in a good place.

As fate would have it, just as I was reaching the depths of my despair, my iPhone miraculously opened Sarah's email. (My carelessness with it - I tend to throw it around, and never lock the touch screen - probably had more say than fate, but we'll pretend for now). When I read it again, the delight I felt reached the same epic proportions that it had that very first time. I lived out the night in a sweet disposition.

So I got to thinking. It's so lovely when we receive compliments, isn't it? Just one kind word, from a stranger or a friend, can have us waltzing along on Cloud Nine for days... Then, inevitably, life gets in the way of our euphoria. We fail at something. Somebody mutters something nasty about us under their breath. We glimpse an awfully unflattering picture of ourselves on Facebook, which everybody else we have ever met has already seen and, of course, ridiculed. A loved one makes a throwaway remark that has us questioning our value. Suddenly, everything falls apart and all the wonderful things about ourselves, which we know to be true, fade away and we are left with the deep, dark, tatty remnants.

That brings me to the age-old question... why do we do this to ourselves? I'm sure it's not just me. Most people I know, women especially, have that terrible habit of forgetting all the nice things people have said to them while, at the same time, steadfastly holding onto every piece criticism they have ever received and mulling it over in their minds for years to come, continuously undermining their own self-confidence and self-love. It has to stop!

I hope that my notebook idea doesn't seem so silly to you anymore. My rationale is that, if my conscience fails to hark back to my myriad of compliments in times of need, then, dammit, I will just have to do it myself. My compliments notebook will take the pride of place on my bedside table, ready to tackle any self-effacing moment that comes its way. I'd like to think that, one day, I won't need it anymore - that I will have been able to train my mind into preserving its own self-worth. But, for now, the notebook will do.

"Sometimes someone says something really small and it just fits right into this empty place in your heart."

— My So-Called Life

some things I'm loving this week

I don't think I'm going to keep doing these recurring posts for much longer. They are beginning to feel a little forced and stale. I'd rather just write according to how I feel and what I'm mulling over at the time. I may still do "some things I'm loving", but they'll be sporadic, instead of every Sunday. I'm just not very good at being timely and reliable, as much as I would like to be.

So this will be a bit of a last hurrah (to a series that has existed only a few weeks... it's okay, I don't expect you to mourn) but it's going to be slightly different, because I don't have a compiled list of pretty things to share this time.

It's been a bit of a challenging week. I hope that I don't sound awfully self-absorbed, reflecting upon my friend's misfortune in my last two posts. I cannot compare any struggle that I am experiencing with what she is going through, we all know that. But the truth is that seeing somebody I love being touched by fate in such a drastic way has affected me deeply. Not in a "poor me" way, but in a way that has skewed my take on life and living, which I would really love to share. So please forgive my narcissism for one more post (if you're lucky).

A few things I'm loving this week...

1. Generosity

All the kind words and thoughts that I have received (on behalf of myself and my friends) is heart-warming. It was so moving that complete strangers would take time out of their day to give well-wishes - such a lovely reminder that the world really is filled with generosity and kindness, as much as the media often encourages us to believe otherwise.

2. Boldness

Being hit over the head with the fragility of life suddenly made me feel a whole lot more brave. It prompted me to do a few things I probably would not have done otherwise... For example, I directed the lady I would like to be my literary agent (someday) to my blog, sent a finished article to a writer I admire (which I wrote in one night... probably not the best idea, after all) and wrote an email to a site I would love to contribute to. It's not so much the result of these efforts that counts, especially since I did them all on one hour's sleep (although the literary agent did take a look and congratulate me on my writing, which took me by surprise), but the fact that I actually did them gives me a wonderful feeling of accomplishment, as if a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. After all...

"I know it feels like you have all these options and when you make a decision, you lose a world of possibilities. But the reality is, until you make a decision, you have nothing at all."

— Janet Fitch

3. Frivolity

Even in such a morose situation, frivolity still has its place - a very important place. The last thing we wanted to do this week is to stand around the hospital crying and talking about feelings (well, we did a bit of that, but it wasn't exactly fun, nor very helpful). Thank goodness for pretty things, jokes and general silliness.

The care package I collated for my injured friend

You'd think that, since she has so many other things to worry about, these things I brought her would be futile. That's not true though. Sometimes it's best just to focus on the little things... especially when the big picture is just too painful to bear.

In the same spirit, this week I ditched my impressive, serious book (The Rehearsal, by Eleanor Cattan) for my fun, down-to-earth book (5 Ways to Carry a Goat, by Ben Groundwater). It felt good.

4. Magic

what makes humans happy?

Sarah Wilson's column today really struck a chord with me, as it always does. She chatted with The Happiness Project's Gretchen Rubin and asked her to share one, foolproof trick to instilling ourselves with true happiness. You can head over to Sarah's blog to find out what that is but, needless to say, it's within everybody's reach. What I have learned is that happiness is not a lofty ideal that you can only discover after abandoning your family and friends to rummage desperately through Ubud or India... It's waiting patiently at your door, ready to be let inside your heart, if only you open yourself to the possibility.

The lovely Sarah has issued a challenge - she will give away three issues of Gretchen's book to readers who share what they think makes humans happy. I would love to read the book (it is released in Australia this month) so I thought I would partake, just for fun.

What makes humans happy? Well, I can only speak for myself, of course. I am no expert. But these past few days have been an ordeal... trying to stay happy, while my best friend lies in a hospital bed, feels wrong. I have struggled, I really have.

Surprisingly enough, what transformed my outlook around was her. She is happy. My best friend, who has two broken legs, the love of her life stuck on the other side of the city awaiting numerous operations after his legs were shattered in the accident, the prospect of not being able to see him for weeks, at least, and months of rehab and recovery in front of her. She is putting on a brave face, but she is truly able to see the magic in what I could only conceive as an awful, terribly unfair situation.... They will walk again. Somebody is watching over us, she reminded me, smiling brightly. Somebody, up there, loves us. Which made me take a deep breath and realise that what I could only perceive as a nightmare was, actually, a miracle.

So, back to the question... What makes humans happy, in my short-lived experience, is that age-old, emancipating consciousness that we are lucky. I hope this doesn't sound too morbid for what should be an uplifting post, but, just think about it - isn't it a miracle that we are alive today? Our lives are kind of thrilling, when you think of it like that. That being alive itself is the miracle, not the achievements and the experiences and the people whose lives we have touched. Just being.

And that's when those other things come into play. When we think of our lives as precious, beautiful gifts we are incredibly fortunate to be given, it is impossible to mindlessly fritter them away. Why wait until tomorrow, or the next day, to do what we want to do today? Why follow pointless rules? Why allow ourselves to succumb to fear? Everything futile and meaningless falls away when we realise that we are responsible for our own destiny and our own happiness. I don't mean responsible just in the sense that we are in control, but also in the sense that we have a duty to all those people who are nowhere near as lucky as us (and no matter how dire the situation, there is always someone... in fact, several billion someones), to live in a way that fulfills our potential for happiness. Capiche?

Of course, it's impossible to maintain this mindset, all the time. Life often gets in the way. Our best friends are victims in horrific car accidents. We lose our jobs. Our hair doesn't sit right. Everything just seems hopeless. So that's when we need to be still. Close our eyes. Take a deep breath. And remind ourselves that we may not be perfect. Bad things may happen to us and the people we love. But... we're alive. We have today, and the potential of tomorrow and the next day and the day after that, to change everything. Maybe not the physical things, but definitely our perception of ourselves and the world around us. Which, if you think about it, is everything. I don't know about you, but this reminder makes me happy... and, since I am human, I thought it be one, of many, answers to this never-ending question, which we all share.

"Here, too, a brand new day is beginning. It could be a day like all the others, or it could be a day remarkable enough in many ways to remain in the memory. In either case, for now, for most people, it is a blank sheet of paper."

— Haruki Murakami (After Dark)

fireworks in the daytime

"..And you know, this thought crossed my mind at the time: maybe chance is a pretty common thing after all. Those kinds of coincidences are happening all around us, all the time, but most of them don't attract our attention and we just let them go by. It's like fireworks in the daytime. You might hear a faint sound, but even if you look up at the sky you can't see a thing. But if we're really hoping something may come true it may become visible, like a message rising to the surface. Then we're able to make it out clearly, decipher what it means. And seeing it before us we're surprised and wonder at how strange things like this can happen. Even though there's nothing strange about it. ..."
— Haruki Murakami (Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman)

the 7 rules of creativity

I was browsing Mumbrella today and came across a wonderful speech by Craig Davis, chairman of the Sydney AWARD School. He talks about creativity as the vital component of an ever-changing world, and the burgeoning modern trend of creativity being valued - or, in Craig's words, desired and lusted over. This movement makes me so hopeful and excited, and it harks back to Seth Godin's concept of leaning into life, which I mentioned a little while ago on this blog.

Here is an excerpt from the speech, which I find particularly inspirational...

So here are seven tips that you might find useful.

1. Believe in yourself. Have faith in your talent – confidence is crucial.

2. Stay true to your values – they will become more important.

3. Curiosity is the raw stuff of creativity. Eat up as much raw material as you can.

4. Don’t try to be a genius, try to have one. You’re an antenna. Be open and available to ideas.

5. Know that your best is always yet to come.

6. Always work with the best people you can find.

7. Be a generous person, hungry, competitive, restless, passionate, but most importantly, generous.

I believe in these things and I believe they will serve you well as you create progress in the world.

The wonderful thing about creativity is that it comes from within. Creative success does not rest upon where you come from or who you know or where you went to school or who you work for... anybody who is anybody can simultaneously reach within and open their minds to create something completely new, unique and beautiful. Isn't that such a refreshing change?

And the best part is that we have the opportunity to ride on this wave of ingenuity... It's a thought that I'm going to hold close to my heart in the years to come. Starting today.

“Cherish your visions. Cherish your ideals. Cherish the music that stirs in your heart, the beauty that forms in your mind, the loveliness that drapes your purest thoughts. For out of them will grow all delightful conditions, all heavenly environment, of these, if you but remain true to them, your world will at last be built."

— James Allen (As A Man Thinketh)

perfect understanding

"Is it possible, finally, for one human being to achieve perfect understanding of another? We can invest enormous time and energy in serious efforts to know another person, but in the end, how close are we able to come to that person’s essence? We convince ourselves that we know the other person well, but do we really know anything important about anyone?"
— Haruki Murakami (The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle)

loaded

"I may be the type who manages to grab all the pointless things in life but lets the really important things slip away."

— Haruki Murakami (Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman: 24 Stories)

Sometimes, I feel as though my mind is overloaded. In fact, I know it - and the problem is, I like it that way.

It's my own fault, of course. As I write, I am sitting on my bed. I have eight Safari windows open (this screen, Twitter, Roger Ebert's and Sarah Wilson's blogs, PilotHandwriting.com, Laura Tingle's feature article for the Walkey Foundation, Dominic Knight's latest article for ABC The Drum and "How beaches looked 100 years ago"). The Big Bang Theory is playing on my tv. The manuscript for my novel is open in Microsoft Word. The Wealthy Freelancer is laying open beside me on one side, my iPhone on the other, whilst I wait for an email to arrive in my inbox. And this is a Sunday, my one "day off" a week.

My penchant for "multi-tasking" is of huge annoyance to my boyfriend Andy. He likes to do most of the same things I do: read, use social media (my chosen mode is Twitter, his is Facebook), watch tv, cuddle. The difference is that he likes to do these activities just one at a time. I can't. Focusing on only one task makes me antsy and frustrated. I can't handle it.

My inability to focus is an issue for several reasons...

1. It prevents me from totally immersing myself in an activity. Eating lunch? The tv is on. Watching a movie? I'm on twitter. At a party? I'm checking my iPhone. (TERRIBLE, I know. I am One of Those.) This constant distraction means that I am never in the moment, that I don't fully enjoy whatever I am experiencing. I'm missing out.

2. My mind is overloaded with all sorts of useless information. Do I really need to know all the names of the designers of Project Runway? At about 15 designers per season, that is over 120 names. Surely there is something more worthwhile to store in my memory bank... High Court precedents, for example. The names of people I actually know, even.

3. I don't allow myself, or my mind, to breathe. Those moments are, of course, my best opportunity to be inspired.

I had to retrace my steps to figure out what instigated this preoccupation with being in a constant flourish of activity. It seems to have started when I was going through a bit of a low-point in my life. I wanted to avoid being left alone with my thoughts, at all costs. Silence and stillness were evaded. I would fill in every waking moment with activity, noise or stimulation.

Thankfully, my mindset has changed now. I'm happier and more at peace with myself. I spend my spare time writing and connecting. Yet, I still feel uncomfortable with silence. I have a compulsion to be busy, instead of taking time to think and be still. I also feel an obligation to be well-read, informed and know "what's going on", whether within my circle of friends or the world at large. So how to ease myself into a streamlined, simplified, focused frame of mind, and have my lifestyle reflect that? Prioritising, for one, by ascertaining what is contributing to my wellbeing, and what isn't - or worse, what is hindering it.

So therein lies my August aspiration. Don't get me wrong, I can't bring myself to part with the latest season of Project Runway. I love it! But I am going to mitigate that frivolity with frequent respites, to think and reflect and be inspired. I will live in the moment, slow down and be gentle on myself. I am going to meditate everyday. I am going to break away from my bad habit of being engaged with dozens of things at once, and, instead, just focus on one at a time.

My hope is that these efforts will help me to be more inspired and mindful, as well as realise that I don't need to do everything that I feel compelled to do, either by myself or the world around me. There are only so many hours in a day, so I need to pick and choose the pursuits that suit me and give me pleasure, and subsist on those. They don't always have to be noble - there is always room for pure selfishness and contentment. What's lovely about life is that we, the lucky ones, have the power and the choice to create the lifestyle that makes us happy. So why let others make that choice for us?

"Don't pointless things have a place, too, in this far-from-perfect world?"

— Haruki Murakami (Sputnik Sweetheart)

(Pictures via The Selby and Dead March)

P.S. Just one day after I posted this, my poor laptop self-combusted. I guess it is protesting, too!