Eudaimoni-what?

I wrote this as a sample passage but it doubles as good advice.

What You Need to Know About Eudaimonia

The pursuit of happiness is a human obsession. It is written into our Declaration of Independence as an “unalienable right.” Even the Dalai Lama posted on his Facebook page that the “very purpose of our life is happiness”:

dalai lama

 

Yet we tend to go about obtaining happiness in the wrong way. We look for it outside ourselves, in vacations and junk food, in parties and Netflix binges. We often mistake material and fleeting happiness for the only way to get the positive boost we’re seeking. These quick fixes work well as distractions yet actually detract from our overall level of joy.

But why?

We can take a look at dopamine and other chemical explanations later, but for now,  we turn to ancient philosophy. Socrates and his students, including Plato and Arristippus, debated the ethics of happiness. Arristippus put forward hedonism, a method that concentrates on pleasure and self-indulgence. It’s an extremely tempting option, but it often excuses selfish behavior. At its worst, hedonism is figuratively consuming a steady diet of empty calories and hoping to stay healthy.

Aristotle discussed a more moderate method. Eudaimonia is like eating a well-balanced meal that also tastes great. Translating into English as “well-being” or “human flourishing,” eudaimonia encourages finding joy in contentment and accomplishment. While happiness is subjective and will vary from person to person, the act of pursuing your happiness in everyday activities will put you on the right path.

Here are a few ways to incorporate eudaimonia into your life:

  1. Get stuff done. Flourishing has nothing to do with luck and everything to do with effort. You don’t need to cross an entire project off your to-do list to feel accomplished. Break your goals into subgoals and tackle away. Each time you’ve completed a milestone, allow yourself to feel success. Use that glow to propel yourself forward to the next step, or the next goal.

This is harder than it appears and that’s okay. I recently realized that effort doesn’t feel effortless and it isn’t supposed to, which seems obvious given the suffix, but no. My dark voices insisted I was not suited to the task and I believed them. For years, I thought I was weak when anything felt hard or required practice.

Turns out, effort is meant to feel deliberate and potentially challenging.

the more you know
NBC. Neat article about the campaign here.

 

 

2. Believe in yourself. It’s okay to tackle the hard things even if you don’t believe you have the skills required. You can learn or you can ask for help along the way. The point is, in the end, you are capable of putting in your best effort. Eudaimonia relishes the journey more than the destination.  In fact, you can track your progress by time spent instead of goal achieved. We can’t always predict how long a task will take and often feel discouraged by our own expectations.

Despite Yoda’s sage advice to the contrary, there is “try,” and “trying” is a great start.

3. Explore your purpose. Remember how happiness varies? That’s because we are all individuals with different interests, gifts, and aversions. Fortunately, there is a place for your unique talents in this world.  By following your heart and accepting who you are, you will be that much closer to creating a life that suits you. Here’s another secret: accepting yourself is crucial to happiness. Take an honest assessment of who you are- your values, your talents, your challenges, and resolve to be your best self.  Be honest and recognize when you’re not. Make a different decision next time.

4. Give yourself a break.  You can’t be perfect all the time. In fact, you probably can’t be perfect at all. Flourishing doesn’t mean working yourself into a state of exhaustion. It means taking care of yourself physically, mentally, and emotionally. It means meeting your deadlines and relaxing with your friends. It means setting yourself up for success and keeping your options open.

The world is a very different place now than it was when Socrates engaged in long debate with his students. Not everything about their ideas will transfer neatly into modern society. However, the idea that happiness is not only attainable, but within your grasp, within your control, is timeless.

 

Breadcrumbs: Or Eat, Pray, Love is the Sequel to Coyote Ugly

 

hansel_and_gretel_by_rieoko-d4dgirm
“Hansel and Gretel” by Angela Rizza

Eat, Pray, Love is the sequel to Coyote Ugly.

Piper Periboo grows up to be Julia Roberts.

Who knew?

I’ve been reading Elizabeth Gilbert’s book Big Magic, which I can’t recommend enough, and I vaguely remembered she had written whatever source Coyote Ugly was based upon. I probably had something else important to do, so seeking it out became First Priority. I found it easily, and as I read, the silver screen and written word jumbled around in my head. I realized: Violet Sanford is Elizabeth Gilbert.

I knew Eat, Pray, Love had been followed by a second memoir, Committed. Turns out both books are technically sequels to Gilbert’s 1997 article for GQ, “The Muse of the Coyote Ugly Saloon.” Nobody seems to mention this. I did a quick web search, polled friends, heard only crickets. I carried the knowledge inexplicably; I have no idea how I knew. Maybe it’s because I tend to read the trivia of movies I like on IMDB.com? It’s mentioned there briefly, but Gilbert gets no writing credit.  When I started looking for it, I thought I was searching for a short story. It’s not.

If you’ve seen the movie Coyote Ugly, “The Muse” will feel awfully familiar. Imagine Violet without all the catchy-song writing stuff or the endearing family in Jersey, but keep all the singing and dancing on the bar. Remove the romantic subplot, almost entirely; manage to keep most of your favorite lines of dialogue. And then realize everything that remains actually happened. The same woman who spent months in an ashram in India scrubbing floors and failing to meditate poured tequila from the bottle straight into the throats of her acolytes. I love it.

By the end of “The Muse” she’s met and married her first husband. Fast forward in time a bit. Cue Eat, Pray, Love, which starts with a painful, difficult divorce. Her happy ending in one medium became the devastating catalyst of another.

You can follow the breadcrumbs further if you want. Committed picks up where Eat, Pray, Love leaves off, at least in terms of the characters and gorgeous descriptions of travel. Committed is a thorough meditation on marriage, a union she is hesitant to enter again. I don’t blame her; in 2015, she wrote an article for the New York Times called “Confessions of a Seduction Addict.” In it she writes:

You might have called me a serial monogamist, except that I was never exactly monogamous. Relationships overlapped, and those overlaps were always marked by exhausting theatricality: sobbing arguments, shaming confrontations, broken hearts. Still, I kept doing it. I couldn’t not do it.”

In 2016, she announced on Facebook her marriage had ended.

Don’t feel bad for connecting all the dots, finding the overarching narrative, noticing discrepancies, for deliberating which source is more likely to be the most true, the articles or the memoir (I say articles)– she’s putting all this out there for a reason. Writers like her, like me actually, put slices of our lives out there for the world to read, not even veiled as fiction. It’s an invitation. Permission. You’re allowed to try and get to know her by paying attention to what she tells you and to what she doesn’t. Somewhere in there is the real woman, and you can get as close as she’ll let you. Honestly, she wouldn’t have published it if she didn’t want you to read it.

Once, I envied her. Now I simply admire her. I admire the messages she seems to be peddling, like the one that insists we all have something creative to give and that it’s worth it to try. I find it comforting when she assures me that the Universe loves me as I am. To me, she’s a reminder that nobody is the sum total of a first impression, that it’s okay to be liked and disliked, and that a human being is a beautiful-if-flawed conglomeration of experiences.

I don’t have a job right now. I’m occasionally terrified by this. But then I find Big Magic, and it says I’ve fucking got this. Eat, Pray, Love tells me something literally awesome wants me to be who I am, and “The Muse of the Coyote Ugly Saloon” proves that we all start somewhere. These are solid forms of inspiration, scattered throughout her portfolio. Leading me somewhere I’m following.

Papa

daddy_papa

I still have a tough time talking about my dad. The fourth anniversary of his death was last week and I let it pass, unacknowledged. I don’t like to remember that day, and I do my best every year to fog over the knowledge of the actual date. I prefer to remember Veteran’s Day, four days earlier, when I called him to tell him how much I loved him, and unwittingly said our final goodbye.

Brad and I believe that my father met Kenzie before we did, that he has loved her all along, the proof of which materializes suddenly and often, and always seems to be reflected in her eyes. My father called me Blue Eyes, my whole life. A trait we shared, the light-eyed Mackenzies among the dark-eyed Parkers. Kenzie’s eyes are the bluest I have seen, she has sky eyes. Mine are more like the sea, greener, grayer, and I’ve passed the name down to her.

Kenzie recognizes my father in every picture we show her. The close up of he and I dancing on our wedding day, his face and my hair. “Papa,” she says, every time. She named him herself, pure coincidence that it is the name I called the only grandfather I knew. She sees his picture on the mantle, he looks 20 and proud in his military uniform, and again, “Papa.” None of us taught her that. Sometimes she gestures to the air and says “Hi Papa.” This briefly chills me. I usually pause and say, “Hi Daddy. I love you.”

Brad unearthed this picture tonight. We asked, “Kenzie, who is this?” The picture has been in a box for over a year, she has never seen it.

“Papa.” Pointing. “Papa.”

We think she knows his soul.

 

 

 

Copyright © Heather Senz. All rights reserved. Written November 20, 2017.