The Happiness Project

by Gretchen Rubin

  DON’T GOSSIP.

  Not infrequently, long-term happiness requires you to give up something that brings happiness in the short term. A good example? Gossip. When people gossip, they generally criticize other people, mostly for violating social and moral codes. Despite its bad reputation, gossip plays an important social role by reinforcing community values: it makes people feel closer to each other, it unifies people who play by the rules, it helps people get a sense of the values of their community, and it exposes the misbehavior of those who cheat on their spouses, don’t return phone calls, or take credit for others’ work. Interesting tidbit: both men and women prefer to gossip to women, because women are more satisfying listeners.

  But although gossip may serve an important social function and it’s certainly fun, it’s not a very nice thing to do—and I always felt bad after a gossipy conversation, even though I enjoyed it at the time. I wanted to stop telling unkind stories, making unkind observations (even if factually accurate), or being too inquisitive about sensitive subjects. Even expressions of concern can be tricked-up forms of gossip: “I’m really worried about her, she seems down, do you think she’s having trouble at work?” That’s gossip. Even harder, I wanted to stop listening to gossip.

  I was at a meeting when someone mentioned of mutual acquaintances, “I heard that their marriage was in trouble.”

  “I hadn’t heard that,” someone replied. So fill us in! was the implication of her tone.

  “Oh, I don’t think that’s true,” I said dismissively. Let’s not talk about that was the implication of my tone. I’m embarrassed to admit how hard it was for me to resist this conversation. I love a rousing analysis of the dynamics of other people’s marriages.

  It wasn’t until I tried to stop gossiping that I realized how much I did, in fact, gossip. I don’t consider myself mean-spirited, and it was sobering to realize how often I said something I shouldn’t. Jamie and I went to a dinner party, and I sat next to someone whom I found insufferable. (The mere exposure effect definitely would not have worked its magic in this relationship.) I did a fairly good job of being friendly during dinner, but when we got home and Jamie said, “Jim’s a nice guy, isn’t he?” I answered, “You didn’t spend any time with him. I think he’s insufferable, and I could barely stand talking to him.” I immediately felt terrible for saying something mean about someone who seemed like a nice enough guy (even though insufferable). Also, if Jamie liked someone, I shouldn’t poison his mind with criticisms. I tried to convince myself that there was a spousal privilege for gossip that would permit me to gossip freely with Jamie, but I concluded that though it’s better to gossip only to Jamie, it’s still best to avoid gossiping altogether.

  I learned another reason not to say critical things about other people: “spontaneous trait transference.” Studies show that because of this psychological phenomenon, people unintentionally transfer to me the traits I ascribe to other people. So if I tell Jean that Pat is arrogant, unconsciously Jean associates that quality with me. On the other hand, if I say that Pat is brilliant or hilarious, I’m linked to those qualities. What I say about other people sticks to me—even when I talk to someone who already knows me. So I do well to say only good things.

  MAKE THREE NEW FRIENDS.

  It’s easy to say to yourself, “I don’t have time to meet new people or make new friends,” but usually that’s not true, and if you can find the time, making a new friend is tremendously energizing, not enervating. New friends expand your world by providing an entrance to new interests, opportunities, and activities and can be an invaluable source of support and information—and, just as happiness-inducing, you can play the same role for them.

  One strategy I adopted for making more friends sounds a bit cold-blooded and calculating, but it really worked. I set myself a target goal. When I entered a situation where I was meeting new people, I set myself the goal of making three new friends—among the parents of Eliza’s class, say. Starting a new job, taking a class, or moving to a new neighborhood, for example, are obvious opportunities to make new friends. Having a numerical goal seemed artificial at first, but it changed my attitude from “Do I like you? Do I have time to get to know you?” to “Are you someone who will be one of my three friends?” Somehow this shift made me behave differently: it made me more open to people; it prompted me to make the effort to say more than a perfunctory hello. Of course, “being friends” means different things in different stages of life. In college, I spent hours each day with my friends; these days I don’t spend nearly that much time with Jamie. I have several friends whose spouses I’ve never met. That’s okay.

  As I was trying to meet my friend quota, I often had to push myself to act friendlier than I felt. Once again, though, I saw the value of my Third Commandment: “Act the way I want to feel.” By acting more friendly, I made myself feel more friendly. Also, research shows that acting in an outgoing, talkative, adventurous, or assertive way makes people—even introverts—feel happier. That surprised me, because I thought introverts were happier in solitude and quiet. In fact, when introverts push themselves to act more outgoing, they usually enjoy it and find it cheering. Connecting with other people lifts people’s moods.

  Trying to make friends focused my attention on the challenge of making a good first impression—that is, how to act so that others would be interested in befriending me. First impressions are important, because when people evaluate others, they weigh initial information much more heavily than later information. Within ten minutes of meeting a new person, in fact, people decide what kind of relationship they want. I made a checklist for myself for my first encounters.

  Smile more frequently.

  Studies show that you tend to like people who you think like you; and that the amount of time you smile during a conversation has a direct effect on how friendly you’re perceived to be. (In fact, people who can’t smile due to facial paralysis have trouble with relationships.)

  Actively invite others to join a conversation.

  This is polite and appreciated by everyone. A person outside the conversation is relieved to be inside, and a person already in the conversation feels good that the kind gesture has been made.

  Create a positive mood.

  Don’t focus attention on something negative, such as the long line at a bar or a bad experience on the subway. As Samuel Johnson said, “To hear complaints is wearisome alike to the wretched and the happy.” Another reason why this is important: Jamie and I were standing in the hall outside the main room of a large function. A guy we knew slightly came up to us and said, “Why don’t you go on in?”

  I answered, “The room is freezing, and the music is too loud.” Guess what? He was one of the chief organizers for the night.

  Open a conversation.

  Talk about the immediate circumstances: the reason for the event, the decor of the room, or even that old chestnut, the weather. A friend checks Google News right before he goes into any social situation to find a piece of news to use as a conversational hook: “Did you see that…?”

  Try to look accessible and warm.

  Nod and say “Uh-huh,” lean forward to show interest, try to catch every word, have good eye contact, use an energetic and enthusiastic tone, try to match the speed of the other person’s speech. You want to try not to glance around the room, sit with your legs extended, or turn your body away from your interlocutor—these postures show a lack of engagement.

  Show a vulnerable side and laugh at yourself.

  Show a readiness to be pleased.

  Most people would prefer to make people laugh than to laugh themselves; to educate rather than to be educated. It’s important to allow yourself to be amused and to be interested. After all, one of the most delightful of pleasures is to please another person.

  Follow others’ conversational leads.

  I often feel a perverse desire to thwart a person who is trying to drive a conversation in a particular way. I remember chatting with a guy who c
learly wanted to talk about the fact that he had once lived in Vietnam, because he mentioned it a couple of times, casually and extremely tangentially. I should cooperate when I can tell that someone wants to talk about a certain issue.

  Ask questions.

  It’s a way to show interest and engagement, and most people love to talk about themselves.

  My research drew my attention to a phenomenon that I’d noticed in my own experience: when making friends, you’ll find it easier to befriend someone who is already the friend of a friend. “Triadic closure” helps explain why I enjoy my kidlit book group and my writers’ groups so much. Friendship thrives on interconnection, and it’s both energizing and comforting to feel that you’re building not just friendships but a social network.

  The end of June marked the halfway point in my happiness project year, and I took some time to ponder my progress beyond my usual end-of-month assessment. I’m a big believer in using milestone moments as cues for evaluation and reflection. As I’d seen in my own life, and as many blog readers noted in various comments, a milestone such as a major birthday, marriage, the death of a parent, the birth of a child, the loss of a job, an important reunion, or the accomplishment of a career marker such as getting tenure or making partner (or not) often acts as a catalyst for positive change.

  Evaluating myself at the six-month milestone for my happiness project, I confirmed that yes, I was feeling happier. When I asked myself what resolutions had contributed most to my happiness, I realized again that, far more than any particular resolution, my Resolutions Chart was the key element of my happiness project. Constantly reviewing my resolutions kept them fresh in my mind, so that as I went through my days, the words of my resolutions flickered constantly in my mind. I’d see my messy desk and think, “Tackle a nagging task.” I’d be tempted to leave my camera at home and I’d think, “Be a treasure house of happy memories.”

  Keeping a Resolutions Chart was an idea that lots of people found appealing, as I discovered after I added this note at the bottom of my daily blog posts:

  Interested in starting your own Happiness Project? If you’d like to take a look at my personal Resolutions Chart, for inspiration, just email me.

  Over the next several months, hundreds of readers requested a copy.

  * * *

  I’m a college freshman and I think your charts will help me be happier and maybe also stay more on top of my work.

  In addition to wanting to try something like this myself, my husband and I are going to create a month of resolutions together about Focusing on Our Marriage.

  Please would you send me your resolutions list. I am a probation officer in London and I need to nail it to my wall, paste it gently on the ceiling in my head, and be mindful of there being ANOTHER WAY!

  * * *

  When asking for a copy of my charts, many people noted that they were starting their own happiness projects, and several sent me their own versions of my Twelve Commandments. These lists of personal commandments fascinated me, because they gave such a rich sense of the diversity of people’s experiences:

  Forget the past.

  Do stuff.

  Talk to strangers.

  Stay in touch.

  Stop the venting and complaining.

  Go outside.

  Spread joy.

  Never bother with people you hate.

  Don’t expect it to last forever.

  Everything ends and that’s okay.

  Stop buying useless crap.

  Make mistakes.

  Give thanks: for the ordinary and the extraordinary.

  Create something that wasn’t there before.

  Notice the color purple.

  Make footprints: “I was here.”

  Be silly. Be light.

  Be the kind of woman I want my daughters to be.

  Shit happens—count on it.

  Friends are more important than sex.

  Choose not to take things personally.

  Be loving and love will find you.

  Soak it in.

  This too shall pass.

  “Be still, and know that I am God.”

  Remember, everyone’s doing their best all the time.

  Get a hold of yourself, Meredith!

  Imagine the eulogy: how do I want to be remembered?

  Expect a miracle.

  I am already enough.

  Let it go, man.

  Light a candle or STFU.

  Recognize my ghosts.

  What do I really, really, really want?

  Help is everywhere.

  What would I do if I weren’t scared?

  If you can’t get out of it, get into it.

  Keep it simple.

  Give without limits, give without expectations.

  React to the situation.

  Feel the danger (many dangers—saturated fat, drunk driving, not making deadlines, law school—don’t feel dangerous).

  Start where you are.

  People give what they have to give.

  Be specific about my needs.

  Let go, let God.

  If you’re not now here, you’re nowhere.

  Play the hand I’m dealt.

  Own less, love more.

  One is too many; a hundred aren’t enough.

  Nothing too much.

  Only connect.

  Be a haven.

  It was amusing to see that some people’s commandments directly contradicted other people’s commandments, but I could envision how different people would benefit from opposing advice:

  Just say yes.

  Just say no.

  Do it now.

  Wait.

  One thing at a time.

  Do everything all at once.

  Always strive to do your best.

  Remember the 80/20 rule.

  As for me, six months into the project, I could say that although, as I’d realized in April, my basic temperament hadn’t changed, each day I felt more joy and less guilt; I had more fun, less anxiety. My life was pleasanter with cleaner closets and a cleaner conscience.

  One thing that had surprised me as my project progressed was the importance of my physical state. It really mattered whether I got enough sleep, got regular exercise, didn’t let myself get too hungry, and kept myself warm. I’d learned to be more attentive to keeping myself feeling energetic and comfortable. On the other hand, one thing that didn’t surprise me was that the most direct boosts to my happiness came from the steps I devoted to social bonds. Jamie, Eliza, and Eleanor, my family, my friends—it was my efforts to strengthen those relationships that yielded the most gratifying results. What’s more, I noticed that my happiness made it easier for me to be patient, cheerful, kind, generous, and all the other qualities I was trying to cultivate. I found it easier to keep my resolutions, laugh off my annoyances, have enough energy for fun.

  But the areas that had been toughest for me when I started were still the toughest. When I looked back on my Resolutions Charts, I could see definite patterns. The checks and X marks revealed that I was continuing to struggle to keep my temper, to go off the path, and to be generous, among many other things. In some ways, in fact, I’d made myself less happy; I’d made myself far more aware of my faults, and I felt more disappointed with myself when I slipped up. My shortcomings stared up at me reproachfully from the page. One of my Secrets of Adulthood is “Happiness doesn’t always make you feel happy,” and a heightened awareness of my failings, though salutary, wasn’t bringing me happiness in the short term—but in the long term, I was sure, I’d be happier as a consequence of behaving better. I was comforted by the words of my model Benjamin Franklin, who reflected of his own chart: “On the whole, though I never arrived at the perfection I had been so ambitious of obtaining, but fell far short of it, yet as I was, by the endeavor, a better and a happier man than I otherwise should have been had I not attempted it.”

  Ironically, too, I suspected that I had lost some of my playtime to the happiness project.
My resolutions were making me happier and I was having more fun, true, but it did feel as though I had less pure leisure time. Observing the evening tidy-up, remembering friends’ birthdays, showing up, making time for projects, and all the rest meant that I had less time to reread David Copperfield in bed. Though of course I could make a resolution to cover that activity, too.

  7

  JULY

  Buy Some Happiness

  MONEY

  Indulge in a modest splurge.

  Buy needful things.

  Spend out.

  Give something up.

  The relationship between money and happiness was one of the most interesting, most complicated, and most sensitive questions in my study of happiness. People, including the experts, seemed very confused.

  As I did my research, Gertrude Stein’s observation frequently floated through my mind: “Everyone has to make up their mind if money is money or money isn’t money and sooner or later they always do decide that money is money.” Money satisfies basic material needs. It’s a means and an end. It’s a way to keep score, win security, exercise generosity, and earn recognition. It can foster mastery or dilettantism. It symbolizes status and success. It buys time—which can be spent on aimless drifting or purposeful action. It creates power in relationships and in the world. It often stands for the things that we feel are lacking: if only we had the money, we’d be adventurous or thin or cultured or respected or generous.