A few months ago, I saw this wave of Facebook posts (and ostensibly twitter posts, but I struggle with twitter -- #whatswrongwithcompletesentencesandpunctuation?). These posts were "hash-tagged"(that's when you put a number, or "pound" sign in front of words without spaces and punctuation--all my work teaching kindergarten undone by a character limit) as "100 happy days."One particular story caught my attention. A friend of a friend, (we'll call my friend 'Jane' and the lady she was friends with 'Carla') had been posting about her happy days, and apparently 'Carla' passed away before she could finish. I did not even know Carla (but I did know Jane, who continued posting her happy days after her friend had gone) and I thought, if these two people, one who was facing her final days, and the other who lost her friend, could find things to be happy about, then maybe I need to make more of an effort to find happiness.
So I started doing it.
And at first, it was a really enriching experience. Some days were so wonderful, I was challenged to find just one thing to settle on as my 'reason to be happy'. Some days were so terrible, it was a challenge to find anything. But I soldiered on, dutifully posting about one thing each day that made me happy.
About 30 days in, I realized something. 100 days is a really long time.
And the truth of the matter is, frequently, I was generally finding pleasure in the same things on a daily basis: riding my bike, eating tacos, laying in the hammock, watching trashy television, going to bed reeeeeaaalllly early. But because I was posting publicly, I felt like I needed to post a different thing each day. That started to get tricky.
And then, there have been some really tough days. Like, a few months ago when the manperson and I finally decided, "this is it, this is the last time we 'try' to get pregnant. After this, I'm buying a surfboard and throwing in the towel." So I'm probably not going to be a mother. Alternate options are, well...we've just decided that we're going to not, probably. And while I'm satisfied with our collective decision, I can't say I'm exactly 'happy' about it, and that some grieving isn't taking place (along with a sense of relief). That's a complicated emotion that doesn't fit neatly into a #hashtag. And my mom has been sick. She'll probably be okay, but she's been sick. And then *I* got sick, so I can't go visit her, cuz I'l make her sicker. And my car needed a new battery and axle. And I'm missing Halloween because of the aforementioned pestilence. And work has been really, really hard, even though it's been really, really fulfilling. And I'm seriously burned out and want to cry frequently and sometimes I just don't feel so very happy about much of anything and sometimes I'd like to express that.
But I felt like, well, "not on Facebook." Because I'm doing #100happydays and I don't want to confuse people and let them know that my emotions are complicated. #hashtagscannothaveapostrophes #itscomplicatedisthereforepossessive #apostrophesmatter
And that's when #100happydays began to turn into a source of aggravation. I began to dread it. "God, what am I going to post about for #100happydays today? The bug bites driving me insane that I fear might be #bedbugs? The parent-teacher conferences where my student's mom seems on the verge of tears because she really doesn't know what to do to help her son anymore? Avocado. Whatever. I like avocado. Pajamas. Those are innocuous."
By now I was in the 80s of days, and I couldn't bear to quit. Because I'd made some arbitrary commitment to myself and my 'readers', I kept plugging away. (Oh, come on, Dianna. Get over yourself. It's FACEBOOK. No one cares. Everyone's on twitter and snapchat and FaceTime and reddit and wherever #kidsthesedays are these days.)
All these thoughts reminded me of a woman I met a few years ago (okay--14 years ago--#wheredoesthetimego) who refused to use the expression "to make (one) happy." She insisted that the statement implied force--that one could be made to be happy by someone or something else, and that's exactly what I felt I was endeavoring to do, one insidious Facebook post at a time. (Just imagine the internal dialogue: "Be happy!" "You can't make me!") Doggedly searching for an original, daily 'affirmation' (that is 'clean' enough to post publicly) every single day for over three months does not make you happy, let me tell you. And I agree with my old acquaintance. I don't want to be 'made happy'.
When I was a student in France, I took ballet. (I swear this is all leading to a conclusion!) I was the lumpiest, clumsiest, Americanest ballerina you ever did see. The instructor was a drill sergeant to the French girls who learned with her. She was very kind to me, though, mostly because I think she believed I had probably been dropped on the head a few times. After the first class, I asked her if it would be all right to continue lessons with her, even though I'd be leaving France before the end of the semester. She said "Si ça te donne de la joie." (If it gives you joy). And it did. Along with sore muscles and bruised pride, learning ballet gave me joy.
And since that day, this is how I choose, generally, to speak of those things that bring smiles to my face and brightness to my life. Those things give me joy.
I wouldn't say, after all this, that one shouldn't do things like #100happydays and other similar affirmation practices...but I also wouldn't say that one should do it.
You should do what brings you joy (even if that means stubbornly plowing through a personal emotional experiment just so that you can write a preachy blog post to air your dirty laundry to the three people who still read blogs).
You should recognize what brings you joy and recognize what brings you sorrow because you need both to be, well, happy.
In truth, no one needs a reason to be happy, just like no one needs a reason to be sad or to be scared or to be amused or to be tired or to be aroused. 100 actual "happy" days seems like some kind of weird purgatory, now that I really think about it (I'm imagining a pink cotton candy land where Pharrel plays nonstop and the sun always shines...).
As for the #100happydays thing, I'm glad Carla and Jane did it. I'm glad I did it. I'm glad I'm not doing it any more. Do it if it brings you joy. Don't if it doesn't.
May all your days bring you: joy, sorrow, humor, grief, pleasure, pain, and growth. We should cherish them all.
#allthedaysallthefeels
