Opinion Column by Tom Greene
You might think that getting a better job, making more money, or winning the Powerball lottery will make you happier. Maybe for a while. But you don't need that stuff to be happier.
In 2018, Dr. Laurie Santos taught what became the most popular class in Yale’s history, Psychology and the Good Life. Nearly one in four Yale undergraduates signed up. To be clear, nobody at North Springs High ever suggested I should go to Yale. Over five million people have enrolled in a free online version. Maybe Dr. Santos has the key to a lifetime of happiness. If so, I want to take it down to The Home Depot and make a copy.
Santos suggests we mis-want things. We think if we just had more stuff we’d be happier. But when we get the new stuff, it’s like the dog that chases cars. When he finally sinks his teeth into the back right quarter panel on the Chevy Impala, he’s kinda disappointed.
Santos calls it hedonic adaptation. That’s the fancy term for what happens when the thing you couldn’t wait to get becomes the thing you no longer covet. The first few weeks I have a new car, I’m afraid to park it near any other cars. Six months later, there are three stale Wendy’s French fries under the seat, the tires need air and it starts to smell like feet. So what is the right stuff for happiness?
First, spend time talking with people you care about. That’s one of the things that separates very happy people from everybody else. The shocker is that even a short conversation with a complete stranger can improve your mood. Of course, you have to look up from your iPhone long enough to start that conversation.
Second, do creative things that you love. When you do things you love you often find a state of flow. You block out the entire world. You forget to eat. You forget to sleep. You forget to go to the bathroom until it’s a five-alarm fire. Then you barely make it to the bathroom with seconds to spare. (That’s not the kind of flow I’m talking about, but you get the point.)
Third, practice random intentional generosity. A few days ago I stopped to help an older woman change a tire in Marietta, Georgia. She asked three times how much a new tire costs these days, and I gave her directions to a nearby tire store. When she wasn’t looking, I dropped $200 onto her passenger seat for her tire. I’m not sure which one of us ended up happier that day.
Fourth, give yourself a little time. Santos calls it “time affluence,” which is a Yale-ish way of saying you’ve got an hour and nobody’s asking you to do anything with it. One day she gave her students their class time back. One student cried and said it was the first free hour she’d had all semester. I’d probably spend it catching up on emails from readers. Then I’d spend dinner complaining that I never get any time to myself.
Fifth, enjoy what you already have. Santos calls this savoring. If I eat a whole bowl of Rocky Road while checking my email, I’ll likely remember more about the email than the ice cream. Which is a shame, especially if you went to the trouble of buying the good kind that doesn’t taste like frozen Crisco.
Lastly, Dr. Santos has students write down what they’re grateful for. The guy who let you pull out in traffic, a good local newspaper, scattered, smothered and covered hash browns at the Waffle House or the friend who called out of the blue just to check in on you. If you’re writing down what was good about the day, it tends to make you more grateful and happy. (Hash browns make me happy.) Santos compares happiness to learning to ice-skate. (I guess they skate a lot during those Yale winters.) You can read every book ever written about skating, but sooner or later you have to strap on the dual steak knives and find some ice. I suspect that’s the part I’ll have trouble with. I’m pretty good at reading about things instead of just doing them.
So speak to total strangers, spend time doing things you love, practice intentional generosity, give yourself a little me-time, enjoy what you already have and regularly write down what you’re grateful for. And if you get the chance, buy a total stranger a new tire with no expectation in return. You’ll both be happier and you can skip the on-line class.
