The Happiness Project (21 page)

“Sure. Not that I hold it against anyone, but I remember who visited me after I had my baby. Don’t you?”

Well, yes. These are the gestures that deepen casual friends into close friends, and confirm closeness between good friends. I immediately made dates to see the not-so-newborns. Around the same time, I made sure to stop by the opening day of a close friend’s new clothing store. I came in about an hour after she opened, and I was the very first person to make a purchase. In each of these cases, I was very happy that I’d taken the trouble. It was fun, it made me feel closer to my friends, and it felt like the right thing to do (the First Splendid Truth in operation).

It was important not only to see close friends but also to see people I didn’t know very well—say, by going to my husband’s office party or showing up at parents’ events at my daughter’s school. Familiarity, it turns out, breeds affection. The “mere exposure effect” is the term for the fact that repeated exposure makes you like music, faces—even nonsense syllables—better. The more often you see a person, the more intelligent and attractive you’ll find that person. I’d noticed this about myself. Even when I don’t take an immediate liking to someone, I tend to like him or her better the more often we see each other. And at the same time, the more I show up, the more that person likes
me.
Of course, this doesn’t always work. There are some people you just don’t like, and seeing more of them would probably just lead to more aggravation. But in cases when you neither like nor dislike a person, mere exposure can work to warm your feelings.

DON’T GOSSIP.

Not infrequently, long-term happiness requires you to give up something that brings happiness in the short term. A good example? Gossip. When people gossip, they generally criticize other people, mostly for violating social and moral codes. Despite its bad reputation, gossip plays an important social role by reinforcing community values: it makes people feel closer to each other, it unifies people who play by the rules, it helps people get a sense of the values of their community, and it exposes the misbehavior of those who cheat on their spouses, don’t return phone calls, or take credit for others’ work. Interesting tidbit: both men and women prefer to gossip to women, because women are more satisfying listeners.

But although gossip may serve an important social function and it’s certainly
fun,
it’s not a very nice thing to do—and I always felt bad after a gossipy conversation, even though I enjoyed it at the time. I wanted to stop telling unkind stories, making unkind observations (even if factually accurate), or being too inquisitive about sensitive subjects. Even expressions of concern can be tricked-up forms of gossip: “I’m really worried about her, she seems down, do you think she’s having trouble at work?” That’s gossip. Even harder, I wanted to stop
listening
to gossip.

I was at a meeting when someone mentioned of mutual acquaintances, “I heard that their marriage was in trouble.”

“I hadn’t heard that,” someone replied.
So fill us in!
was the implication of her tone.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s true,” I said dismissively.
Let’s not talk about that
was the implication of my tone. I’m embarrassed to admit how hard it was for me to resist this conversation. I
love
a rousing analysis of the dynamics of other people’s marriages.

It wasn’t until I tried to stop gossiping that I realized how much
I did, in fact, gossip. I don’t consider myself mean-spirited, and it was sobering to realize how often I said something I shouldn’t. Jamie and I went to a dinner party, and I sat next to someone whom I found insufferable. (The mere exposure effect definitely would not have worked its magic in this relationship.) I did a fairly good job of being friendly during dinner, but when we got home and Jamie said, “Jim’s a nice guy, isn’t he?” I answered, “You didn’t spend any time with him. I think he’s insufferable, and I could barely stand talking to him.” I immediately felt terrible for saying something mean about someone who seemed like a nice enough guy (even though insufferable). Also, if Jamie liked someone, I shouldn’t poison his mind with criticisms. I tried to convince myself that there was a spousal privilege for gossip that would permit me to gossip freely with Jamie, but I concluded that though it’s
better
to gossip only to Jamie, it’s still best to avoid gossiping altogether.

I learned another reason not to say critical things about other people: “spontaneous trait transference.” Studies show that because of this psychological phenomenon, people unintentionally transfer to me the traits I ascribe to other people. So if I tell Jean that Pat is arrogant, unconsciously Jean associates that quality with me. On the other hand, if I say that Pat is brilliant or hilarious, I’m linked to those qualities. What I say about
other people
sticks to
me
—even when I talk to someone who already knows me. So I do well to say only good things.

MAKE THREE NEW FRIENDS.

It’s easy to say to yourself, “I don’t have time to meet new people or make new friends,” but usually that’s not true, and if you can find the time, making a new friend is tremendously energizing, not enervating. New friends expand your world by providing an entrance to new interests, opportunities, and activities and can be an invaluable source of support and
information—and, just as happiness-inducing, you can play the same role for them.

One strategy I adopted for making more friends sounds a bit cold-blooded and calculating, but it really worked. I set myself a target goal. When I entered a situation where I was meeting new people, I set myself the goal of making three new friends—among the parents of Eliza’s class, say. Starting a new job, taking a class, or moving to a new neighborhood, for example, are obvious opportunities to make new friends. Having a numerical goal seemed artificial at first, but it changed my attitude from “Do I like you? Do I have time to get to know you?” to “Are you someone who will be one of my three friends?” Somehow this shift made me behave differently: it made me more open to people; it prompted me to make the effort to say more than a perfunctory hello. Of course, “being friends” means different things in different stages of life. In college, I spent hours each day with my friends; these days I don’t spend nearly that much time with Jamie. I have several friends whose spouses I’ve never met. That’s okay.

As I was trying to meet my friend quota, I often had to push myself to act friendlier than I felt. Once again, though, I saw the value of my Third Commandment: “Act the way I want to feel.” By
acting
more friendly, I made myself
feel
more friendly. Also, research shows that acting in an outgoing, talkative, adventurous, or assertive way makes people—even introverts—feel happier. That surprised me, because I thought introverts were happier in solitude and quiet. In fact, when introverts push themselves to act more outgoing, they usually enjoy it and find it cheering. Connecting with other people lifts people’s moods.

Trying to make friends focused my attention on the challenge of making a good first impression—that is, how to act so that others would be interested in befriending
me.
First impressions are important, because when people evaluate others, they weigh initial information much more heavily than later information. Within ten minutes of meeting a new person, in fact, people decide what kind of relationship they want. I made a checklist for myself for my first encounters.

My research drew my attention to a phenomenon that I’d noticed in my own experience: when making friends, you’ll find it easier to befriend someone who is already the friend of a friend. “Triadic closure” helps explain why I enjoy my kidlit book group and my writers’ groups so much. Friendship thrives on interconnection, and it’s both energizing and com
forting to feel that you’re building not just friendships but a social network.

The end of June marked the halfway point in my happiness project year, and I took some time to ponder my progress beyond my usual end-of-month assessment. I’m a big believer in using milestone moments as cues for evaluation and reflection. As I’d seen in my own life, and as many blog readers noted in various comments, a milestone such as a major birthday, marriage, the death of a parent, the birth of a child, the loss of a job, an important reunion, or the accomplishment of a career marker such as getting tenure or making partner (or not) often acts as a catalyst for positive change.

Evaluating myself at the six-month milestone for my happiness project, I confirmed that yes, I was feeling happier. When I asked myself what resolutions had contributed most to my happiness, I realized again that, far more than any particular resolution, my Resolutions Chart was the key element of my happiness project. Constantly reviewing my resolutions kept them fresh in my mind, so that as I went through my days, the words of my resolutions flickered constantly in my mind. I’d see my messy desk and think, “Tackle a nagging task.” I’d be tempted to leave my camera at home and I’d think, “Be a treasure house of happy memories.”

Keeping a Resolutions Chart was an idea that lots of people found appealing, as I discovered after I added this note at the bottom of my daily blog posts:

Over the next several months, hundreds of readers requested a copy.

When asking for a copy of my charts, many people noted that they were starting their own happiness projects, and several sent me their own versions of my Twelve Commandments. These lists of personal commandments fascinated me, because they gave such a rich sense of the diversity of people’s experiences: