The half-life of happiness
I'm having an odd little weekend. Yesterday was spent turning the house upside-down looking for something I've lost and I'm cross about losing - today has been spent writing replies to a journalist who contacted me because she's writing a piece for Newsweek (!) about the uncanny valley and horror films. Or 'flicks' as she calls them and I don't. I did feel bad because I should be writing the introduction to my third research phase at the moment but never mind, surely this counts as some kind of public engagement practice, learning talk to about my research to a wider audience as well as tailoring my answers to a particular theme?
The thing I've lost is this bracelet.
Long-term readers with decent memories (do any of you exist?) will remember that it's stamped with a line from a Jordan Reyne song and I had it made last year after seeing her at a tiny theatre here in MK and falling ridiculously in love with the music. I wrote all about it here and it's relevant again today because last weekend, we went back to see her play in the same place again. I'd wanted to wear said bracelet but I'd been working all day and forgot to look for it before we went out - and now I can't find it anywhere. It feels like it matters to find it. Probably more than it should. The show was amazing. Last time, every song was new that day and transported me to places I'd never been, showed me new sights. This time, the songs were all familiar territory and it felt - eerily homely. Comforting. Which is an odd thing to feel for a crop of some of the creepiest, darkest songs I know.
The oddness was compounded by the fact that I've been chatting to Jordan online, on and off, over the year and she'd even mentioned the MK show when she posted out her latest album and said she was looking forward to seeing us there! She has an audiobook out at the moment and I'd signed up to receive each part as it's released on the morning of the show, so we talked a little more by email and she said again that she was looking forward to seeing us! I've never been on a night out knowing that the performer is looking forward to seeing me - the other way round is the normal state of affairs. The Stables is such a tiny venue that it would have been hard to leave without saying hello, but I was rather braver than my normal self and asked if she was going to stay around for a drink afterwards and invited myself and Jef along :) That's how we ended up sitting in the bar of the Stables until way past closing time with Jordan and the two people she was staying with that evening, talking about cats and spiders and jobs and research. All three of them were lovely and friendly and for once, I didn't feel like a complete social outcast and idiot - I think that mattered as much to me as the 'ooh, I'm chatting to a famous musician' thing. A daft little ego boost? Possibly. But one I really need at the moment.
That's what's got me thinking about the half-life of happiness. I measure my days/months/years by the next thing to look forward to - does anyone else do that? - and in that state of anticipation I can be giddy and effervescent and smiley and wonderful. Then there's the thing itself which is good for a day or two of cheer. But I wish there was a way to preserve that happiness for longer because it fades too fast and even now, just a week later, I can feel nostalgia nipping at my heels and a self-pitying Sunday-ish woe in the telling: yeah, that was great but it's over. And what do I have to look forward to now? My low moods have half-lives of months, the good ones minutes. It doesn't seem fair.
I've fallen in love with writing again as well. Part of it is writing my thesis and getting feedback from Nicky and Graham who say really nice things about my writing style which has kind of convinced me that I am good enough to do this properly. I've also started posting short stories, flash fiction and little bits of writing to a thing called Jottify - last week, one of my stories hovered around the second-from-top spot for a whole afternoon! I've also submitted this story to an anthology called Hauntings. It's the first time I've ever entered anything like this. I'm expecting rejection - but hoping secretly and excitedly for a better outcome.
So really, what I'm doing this year is seeking out little moments of being happy and trying to make the most of them. I'm better at it than I used to be, but I'm practicing. Extending the half-life where I can, fighting against decay.
The thing I've lost is this bracelet.
Long-term readers with decent memories (do any of you exist?) will remember that it's stamped with a line from a Jordan Reyne song and I had it made last year after seeing her at a tiny theatre here in MK and falling ridiculously in love with the music. I wrote all about it here and it's relevant again today because last weekend, we went back to see her play in the same place again. I'd wanted to wear said bracelet but I'd been working all day and forgot to look for it before we went out - and now I can't find it anywhere. It feels like it matters to find it. Probably more than it should. The show was amazing. Last time, every song was new that day and transported me to places I'd never been, showed me new sights. This time, the songs were all familiar territory and it felt - eerily homely. Comforting. Which is an odd thing to feel for a crop of some of the creepiest, darkest songs I know.
The oddness was compounded by the fact that I've been chatting to Jordan online, on and off, over the year and she'd even mentioned the MK show when she posted out her latest album and said she was looking forward to seeing us there! She has an audiobook out at the moment and I'd signed up to receive each part as it's released on the morning of the show, so we talked a little more by email and she said again that she was looking forward to seeing us! I've never been on a night out knowing that the performer is looking forward to seeing me - the other way round is the normal state of affairs. The Stables is such a tiny venue that it would have been hard to leave without saying hello, but I was rather braver than my normal self and asked if she was going to stay around for a drink afterwards and invited myself and Jef along :) That's how we ended up sitting in the bar of the Stables until way past closing time with Jordan and the two people she was staying with that evening, talking about cats and spiders and jobs and research. All three of them were lovely and friendly and for once, I didn't feel like a complete social outcast and idiot - I think that mattered as much to me as the 'ooh, I'm chatting to a famous musician' thing. A daft little ego boost? Possibly. But one I really need at the moment.
That's what's got me thinking about the half-life of happiness. I measure my days/months/years by the next thing to look forward to - does anyone else do that? - and in that state of anticipation I can be giddy and effervescent and smiley and wonderful. Then there's the thing itself which is good for a day or two of cheer. But I wish there was a way to preserve that happiness for longer because it fades too fast and even now, just a week later, I can feel nostalgia nipping at my heels and a self-pitying Sunday-ish woe in the telling: yeah, that was great but it's over. And what do I have to look forward to now? My low moods have half-lives of months, the good ones minutes. It doesn't seem fair.
I've fallen in love with writing again as well. Part of it is writing my thesis and getting feedback from Nicky and Graham who say really nice things about my writing style which has kind of convinced me that I am good enough to do this properly. I've also started posting short stories, flash fiction and little bits of writing to a thing called Jottify - last week, one of my stories hovered around the second-from-top spot for a whole afternoon! I've also submitted this story to an anthology called Hauntings. It's the first time I've ever entered anything like this. I'm expecting rejection - but hoping secretly and excitedly for a better outcome.
So really, what I'm doing this year is seeking out little moments of being happy and trying to make the most of them. I'm better at it than I used to be, but I'm practicing. Extending the half-life where I can, fighting against decay.