Tuesday, 28 April 2020

Happiness Habits

Along the Langerei

From the Bonifacius bridge.
















  I have eventually realised that, in this current lock-down, with its limited scope for everyday, taken-for-granted activities, I have intuitively divined a routine, I suppose one could so describe it; there is a small raft of activities from which I haul in a range of ordinary goodies, pretty well every day, to buoy up the emotional state and keep it bobbing around in a positively bracing sort of way. Oh dear, that all sounds rather hearty when my everyday state is simply calmly engrossed and entertained.

Fragile almost ethereal arbour
A pecking order has emerged; after breakfast the favoured routine now begins with an early morning walk; anything between 8.15 and 8.45 is Departure Time for what is intended to be an hour’s walk, more a wander, less a route march. I know that, without fail, wherever I go, every day, I will think how lucky I am to be locked down in Brugge. Every morning in what has admittedly been a prolonged sunny period gilding the gingerbread, I look around and wonder afresh at the beauty of the buildings and the canals. Every morning I cannot resist taking yet another photograph of a perfect reflection or of a tree tumbling into a bright Spring green foliage or of a vista so artfully pre-arranged for me.

According to Professor Laurie Santos, professor of psychology at Yale, (a recent acquaintance, as it were) gratitude consistently comes top of the list of what makes humans truly happy. She suggests that it is not circumstances which make us content, but, that provided basic needs of shelter, food and warmth are met, we can thrive in whatever situation we find ourselves in. I realise now that my reaction to being physically separate from others from necessity, has pushed me to devise a way of living which satisfies me enough to allow me to
Professor Laurie Santos's course, The Science of Well-Being
promotes the idea of post-traumatic growth.
welcome every day and every part of that day. So I savour the coffee I make when my wandering is over and currently enjoy the sun which permits me to sit and luxuriate on my terrace as I drink it and read my latest book.
Books by, on or about Jane Austen, awaiting a new owner.
A beacon in the Corona limbo

During each day, I love the other regular tasks/habits/routines I am choosing. Such brief fun from What’s App's silly family remarks, photos and videos; Facetime, often with family and Zoom with a group of girl friends who normally meet up each week for coffee; great videos online from friends, two of whom, in particular, are amazing in their abilities to find wonderful entertainment from somewhere; writing and receiving e-mails and then there is the Tidying of The Book Shelves. This last deserves amplification! I have a number of bookshelves and I thought, after five years of residence here, it might be time for a Spring clean. It is unbelievable how long it is taking me and how much pleasure I am deriving from what was supposed to be a boring and mundane job. I have to dust, then open each book, check the signature and date acquired, then a supposed quick rifle through the pages. I have located quite a number of volumes with strong personal connections attached to them, which I feel strongly I want to hand on to one or other of my children. So I am making small piles of volumes, carefully labelled and hope they can be collected post-Corona. In the general melee to clear my apartment after I go to The Great Classroom in The Sky, I can imagine my precious books, chiefly hurled into boxes destined for a charity shop; no one will have the time, or perhaps, inclination to look carefully through the piles. As part of this book drive I have also assembled a shelf and a half of books by, on or about Jane Austen which I want to pass on to some interested student and I have started a correspondence to bring that about. Looking hopeful!
Hilary Mantel, as pictured in the New Statesman

All of these little activities, plus pottering on my terrace and reading, as in Reading, feel psychologically nutritious, to use a Santos expression! I love The Times on a Saturday and The New York Times at the weekend; some stunning journalism there. And of course, the books. Have just finished the Blessed Hilary's The Mirror and The Light, a tome weighty enough to be a headstone but crammed with unbelievable flair and elegance of character, plot, expression. 

And, having re-read the above, I detect a certain regrettable smugness. I know I am lucky and can't bear the stories of increased domestic violence and in-family deaths as well as the huge difficulties faced by hungry and impoverished millions.  The worst thing I can imagine for my sisters and me, when children, is to have been locked down with my father. Professor Santos's theory might be a bit thin there, specifically, though definitely true in 99% of situations otherwise.

Lockdown; Covid Domestic Violence Increases.