The Happiness Quotienthttps

The Happiness Quotient Often when someone expresses unhappiness in their life, momentary or chronic, the repeated advice received from others is “Happiness is a choice. Choose happiness.” I’ve been seeing that platitude on job boards a lot when someone expresses unhappiness in their work and reaches out to others for advice. It’s true, or at least I believe it is, that if we make a conscious decision to behave as though we are happy, we will feel that way. But the other day, a conversation with my son made me think a little differently about this. Actually, I had been thinking about this concept of “choosing happiness = be happy” for quite some time. I’ve been immensely unhappy in my work for a while. I’m in higher education and enrollment pressures are changing the landscape of work for faculty at all levels. Recently, a leadership change at my institution exacerbated the situation for many faculty. Reading job board advice tells me I should “choose happiness” as I determine the best path forward for me. But what if that’s part of the problem? When in a job that makes you miserable, it can be extremely difficult to “choose happy” every day. However, while talking with my son, I realized it wasn’t necessary — or even good for us to do this — either. My son is 17, going through the hormonal shifts of those teenage years and dealing with the soap opera of high school. As is our practice, the other night we were sitting on his bed talking before lights out. He asked me what to do about those days when he was feeling, well, pretty crappy about everything. He said, “I mean, I know I have a good life. I have good parents, a nice house, most of the things I want. But sometimes I just feel sad because my grades aren’t better (he’s been struggling) or I wish I were better looking, or I just feel bad about feeling sad, like there’s something wrong with me because I should be happy.” Much of what my son felt sad about I can recall lamenting when I was a teen. But what really struck me was his final comment. “Why should any of us feel bad about feeling sad?” I asked him. “You are entitled to that emotion.” I reminded him of my granddaughter’s favorite movie, Inside Out, a movie that emphasizes the need for expression of all emotions, including sadness. Without sadness, this delightful kid’s movie posits, we wouldn’t know what happiness is, we wouldn’t be complete. Sadness makes happiness possible and, well, the reverse is true as well. All emotions are necessary. I asked my son, “Why don’t you just go with it? Instead of struggling against a funk, just sink into it, let it be how you feel. It might help to explore it a little, too. We bask in happiness — even when it’s not about something monumental. Why can’t we wallow in sadness every now and then?” My son liked this idea — of taking the “should” out of feeling happy, the demand out of joy and giving himself permission to feel the range of emotions possible, to engage his sadness to understand it. He got up the next morning feeling better for the freedom of emotion he had seized upon. Later that week, I overheard him telling his father about our conversation. He said “I feel better because of what Mom told me. I don’t have to fight it when I feel bad. If I just let myself feel that way, I’ll probably feel better faster.” The pressure to feel good, to be happy can make us just as miserable as whatever it is that makes us sad. I don’t want this for my son — to feel sad and then feel bad for feeling sad. That only makes coming back to happiness that much harder. It’s okay to feel sad about a life change, a job that doesn’t bring fulfillment, a day when things don’t go right. In fact, it’s good for us. Let it go. Karen Beardslee Kwasny