Less yearning = more happiness

I'm not sure if it's my new(ish) shorter working week or my now-month-long shopping ban—or a combination of both—but I feel very content lately. Like a fat cow in a field of buttercups chewing its cud in the sunshine. 

I'm not at all surprised that working less has made me happier, but I am surprised that not spending money on shoes and clothes has boosted my happiness and boosted it so quickly. I think it's because I'm not in an almost constant state of wanting stuff. Of yearning. 

Marian Keyes writes about freedom from yearning in Making It Up As I Go Along (which I read on the weekend) in a chapter about how interviewers often ask her about what's on her (*grinds teeth*) bucket list, but she doesn't have one. In fact, she has fairly modest goals—such as doing a first aid course.

"At this point, my inquisitor is openly contemptuous of me—because the rule is that we're meant to have aspirations, five-year plans, things to aim for. We have to be improving constantly, to stand still is to regress.

"But here's how it is: I spent my entire life in a state of yearning. During my (very ordinary) childhood, happiness belonged in the far-off future and the markers kept being moved. I'd be okay when I became a teenager. No, when I left school. No, when I got a degree.

"My twenties were a decade of suspended animation—before I could declare my life open for business, I needed the right man, the right job, the right hair, the right legs and the right lifestyle...

"Unaccountably, everything remained wrong. Until, through a small amount of rare proactive effort on my part, coupled with a huge amount of dumb luck, I ended up getting a book published. And I met a nice man. I got almost everything I yearned for...but to my great surprise, I was not yearn-free.

"Even as I was writing the first book, I was already worried about the next one—what if I couldn't write it, what if it was awful, what if everyone hated the current one and it all became irrelevant anyway? Those worries never went away, to the point where every book that I was due to write in my lifetime I yearned to have already written so that I didn't have to worry about them...

"But I don't want to live in a state of yearning. I don't want to move through my days not touching the sides. I don't want my life to be deferred until everything is perfect, because that will be never. Instead I want to want what I have...

"I'm at my happiest when I want nothing. Even happier when I realise that I'm entitled to nothing—but that I've been granted so much."

(That went on a bit too long, but the context is important). I haven't expunged all my desires (I want chocolate, and I want to sleep in every day, and I want to eat hot chips and take more holidays), but being free of the yearning to own this gorgeous dress and that awesome pair of shoes and other stuff I don't need is wonderful. 

Finishing, early, sausageless but scrumptious

Pink sky this morning from Richmond Station

I finished that book I was most of the way through yesterday. It was Marian Keyes' collection of columns and blog posts Making It Up As I Go Along, which gave me a chuckle. I can't remember the last time I read a whole book in a weekend. (I don't read as much as I used to, but I intend to change that.)

I was up early for an appointment this morning. The horizon was starting to turn pink when I was walking to the station. As usual, I liked being up early, but not enough to do it all the time. Or even sometimes. 

We had sausage night tonight (teehee), but without the snags. That is, we had our usual 'sausage sides' (potato salad, cucumber salad, sauerkraut and dill pickles) with corned beef instead. It was scrumptious. 

One book ends, another one opens

Crow on a wet tiled roof (the block of flats next door)

I retired to my boudoir at 8.30 last night with a hot chocolate and The Mystery of Mercy Close. I ploughed through the last hundred or so pages of the book before bedtime. It was a very enjoyable read. Marian Keyes has a talent for writing about really heavy topics - in this case, depression and attempted suicide -  in a way that's entertaining and amusing without being in bad taste. I don't mind a bit of black humour. I guess it's because Marian's a funny person who's suffered badly from depression herself.  Pretty much all of her novels are funny and dark all at once. 

Finishing The Mystery of Mercy Close means I'M NOW FREE TO START READING THE HOROLOGICON!  I might head to bed early again tonight. It's been raining since I got home from work, so it's a good night for it. I might swap the hot choc for a G n T tonight since it's the weekend. 

It's not Monday, Marian, brownie

I keep thinking it's Monday. But it's not! Wooh. Only two days until the weekend. 

I'm enjoying Marian Keyes' latest book. I've read more than 300 pages in the last couple of days. I love Marian's Irish turn of phrase. And the protagonist, Helen Walsh, is so fierce and contrary, but still so likeable and funny.

Many of Marian Keyes' novels have centred on the Irish Walsh family, with a book devoted to the story of each of the five sisters. Helen is the last sister to 'get a book'. Reading the books is a bit like visiting old family friends. I'm not much of a reader of 'chick lit' (and I hate the phrase 'chick lit'), but I do enjoy Marian Keyes. 

I had a gluten free chocolate brownie on the way home from work. It was the only one left and I think it was the best brownie I've ever eaten. The inside was almost gooey. Yum. 

Sunday in the gardens

After taking care of mundane domestic stuff this morning, I took a book over to the Botanic Gardens for a leisurely afternoon of reading in a shady spot. The day was perfect day for it - sunny and warm with a light breeze. 

Before I found my shady spot, I wandered about taking some photos.

The eels are much easier to see now the algae has cleared

 The Lamb's Ears are very velvety 

 Bees were busy going about their business

The ducks were on the outer

These are called feather heads

Hairy

 Hellebore pod

Strange flower growing in the herb garden

 A moth on a pincushion flower 

 Poppy

 Poppy pod

Twins

Hairy II

Looking towards the city

I finished reading The Book of (Even More) Awesome. To be honest, I found it less awesome and way more hokey than the first book. Maybe the first was hokey as well, but I read it during a very difficult time in my life, so perhaps I found the hokeyness less irritating. 

I still did relate to many of the awesome things, such as: 

When you went to the gym yesterday and now you can take a break. 

When you sneeze and a stranger says bless you. (That happened to me just yesterday.)

When you reunite a sock from the Sock Orphan Drawer with its freshly washed partner. 

Most of all though, I relate to the author's own story. Neil Pasricha started his 1000 Awesome Things blog during a rough patch in his life (as did I with this blog) and the difference it made to his life exceeded his expectations. The same goes for me with this blog. After a while, finding life's little gleeful/awesome things just happens without you even having to think about it.  Somehow it actually enhances your appreciation of small stuff that you never cared much about before - if you even noticed it. 

While I'm getting all quotey on you, the other day I read a quote from Cheryl Strayed (aka Sugar, the advice columnist at The Rumpus)  which really resonated with me. 

We can survive anything, even if we don’t want to. Even in the face of great suffering, there is joy.

Yup. Life is not meant to be easy....but it can also be delightful. (You can read Gretchin Rubin's full interview with Cheryl here.)


But back to my day... 

I took a back-up book with me to the gardens - Marian Keyes' new novel The Mystery of Mercy Close. I didn't know she had a new book out and bought it on the spot when I happened upon it by surprise last weekend. I love it when that happens. Anticipating the release of a favourite writer's new book is great too....speaking of which, I still haven't bought The Horologicon! I must remedy that soon. Tomorrow perhaps.