The Art of Happiness

If you are familiar with The Art of War, attributed to Sun Tzu, you will find in The Art of Happiness an alternate outlook on life. I liked it from the start. I love the idea that happiness is an art that one can cultivate, and so I will actively strive to do so.

Interestingly, a lot of the information in this book is familiar to me from therapy (more on this later). It's not especially well-written, and much of the explanations are overly-simplified, reiterating previous material in such a way as to make me impatient with it --- Reminds me of my days of sitting in high school college prep English classes in that respect. I remember being frustrated when teachers still had to remind some of my classmates what an adverb is, even though I'd retained that information from third grade, where supposedly everyone else had learned the same information. And don't even get me started on the stupid questions about Shakespeare (Did Caesar's mother name him Caesar because he was having those seizures? Ugh!). But a lot of the Dalai Lama's teachings themselves can be very interesting and very useful, so I thought I'd write about that a little... and then it turned into a whole lot. You'll have to read it in installments or give up in despair. This has become a whole series of thoughts and stories.

My interest in what the Dalai Lama has to say is neither academic nor religious in nature. Instead, it springs

from not feeling particularly happy and wanting to do something about it that is productive instead of destructive. At this time, I am struggling with PTSD symptoms in a very life-preventative way. It leaves me feeling confused, drained and ashamed of myself for days. I'm very hard on myself, but can't seem to let up, so if I get lost on the way to or from work or end up skipping work altogether, I feel terribly about myself. I find I have to be patient and work on life a step at a time, sometimes from a moment-by-moment perspective. Other stressors in my life include hours that last late in the evening, needing to succeed at my job in order to pay my bills, gas money and nice roads so I can go get my kids for the weekends, finishing my Master's Degree, and popping in and out of new schools as a substitute paraprofessional, to name just a few. If I experience too many of these stressors at once, my mind does this inconvenient melt-down thing that is not pleasant to see or experience. All the skeletons are falling out of my closet and the room is now overpopulated.

There does exist such a thing as a Victim Mentality. In this particular state, a person places all the power into any hands but their own, and never take responsibility for themselves or their lives. I'm always afraid that I'm turning into that person. There is such a fine line between understanding your weakness and allowing it to own you.

Another thing I've been struggling with is how it's also hard to explain the difference between remembering something and involuntarily re-experiencing it, particularly when I can't always tell the difference myself.

So far as I can figure, there are many things in life that are beyond my control. I can't change the things that have happened to me, only how I choose to view them, and of course there's always the old stand-by that the things that have challenged us in life are what make us who we are. On good days, I happen to like who I am. What I'd like to do with the PTSD label is process whatever's going on from the inside and then find ways to stop letting it run my life.

I'm in the process of identifying what I'm sad, angry, or confused about and working on finding new ways to deal with those feelings.

So, I'm writing  some of my thoughts on the matter. Okay, so a LOT of thoughts on the matter, but still, I hope you one day have the time to think about it all for yourself. I think everyone is on this road, and ultimately it leads in the same direction, so let's make it as fun as possible.

On that note, I shall now turn my thoughts once again inward, and meditate on this happiness concept.

Or not.

I might just eat a brownie instead.

Baby-steps.