The Magnolia Experiment

I’m conducting an experiment beginning today. Can I get away with documenting a project on a public blog and keeping it a secret from my husband?

After arriving home from wandering the hillside around 6pm (wow! Daylight saving is amazing!) I found myself gazing up at our beautiful, resilient magnolia tree, covered in spiky and choking creepers, yet still flourishing and flowering when nature calls its name. 

“Why am I not compassionate towards these suckers?” I wondered at the spiky mess, teetering at the tip top of the tree on groaning branches. "They’re just doing what nature also calls them to do, as it calls all life to survive, finding ways to climb higher and higher, grow larger and larger. Wha makes the magnolia tree's molecules so much more superior than the ivy's?". I swallowed the guilt, reminded myself they were mostly lifeless, and with exhilaration embraced my anger at these snakes suffocating an innocent tree of such beauty.

This is something James has talked about doing for a while. How much can I liberate the magnolia before he notices? 

Tearing at 'weeds', no matter how philosophically questionable the concept is, gave me a feeling of (perhaps long lost?) strength. I love the slight fear, those times you forget you’re up high and you’re focusing on reaching out to unhook some stubborn old vines from a fork at the top of a tree…then look down and realise a fall would mean a broken limb - at least. Then carrying on. I'm a warrior for the magnolia (so as when people fight in wars with the chance of losing their lives for a 'greater cause', in my case the greater cause being life itself? But what about the weeds? Us humans are so good at finding justification for our biases). 

So all the thoughts I've had today about happiness, all the times I felt so utterly grateful for life and moments that had me burst out laughing culminate in learning how damn good it feels to climb a tree and tear down ivy. Compassion can sit on the balcony and watch me – I’m going to keep tearing till it’s gone, and keep loving every minute of it.

Sometimes you’ve just gotta clear away things to allow the real beauty and strength beneath it all to flourish.    

Is that a tree in front of the Magnolia? The sheer density of my newfound enemy, now down to a tangled ball, is illuminated by its own silhouette. 

The secret to happiness...

A merchant sent his son to learn the Secret of Happiness from the wisest of men. The young man wandered through the desert for forty days until he reached a beautiful castle at the top of a mountain. There lived the sage that the young man was looking for.

However, instead of finding a holy man, our hero entered a room and saw a great deal of activity; merchants coming and going, people chatting in the corners, a small orchestra playing sweet melodies, and there was a table laden with the most delectable dishes of that part of the world.

The wise man talked to everybody, and the young man had to wait for two hours until it was time for his audience.

The Sage listened attentively to the reason for the boy’s visit, but told him that at that moment he did not have the time to explain to him the Secret of Happiness.

He suggested that the young man take a stroll around his palace and come back in two hours’ time.

“However, I want to ask you a favor,” he added, handling the boy a teaspoon, in which he poured two drops of oil. “While you walk, carry this spoon and don’t let the oil spill.”

The young man began to climb up and down the palace staircases, always keeping his eyes fixed on the spoon. At the end of two hours he returned to the presence of the wise man.

“So,” asked the sage, “did you see the Persian tapestries hanging in my dining room? Did you see the garden that the Master of Gardeners took ten years to create? Did you notice the beautiful parchments in my library?”

Embarrassed, the young man confessed that he had seen nothing. His only concern was not to spill the drops of oil that the wise man had entrusted to him.

“So, go back and see the wonders of my world,” said the wise man. “You can’t trust a man if you don’t know his house.”

Now more at ease, the young man took the spoon and strolled again through the palace, this time paying attention to all the works of art that hung from the ceiling and walls.

He saw the gardens, the mountains all around the palace, the delicacy of the flowers, the taste with which each work of art was placed in its niche. Returning to the sage, he reported in detail all that he had seen.

“But where are the two drops of oil that I entrusted to you?” asked the sage.

Looking down at the spoon, the young man realized that he had spilled the oil.

“Well, that is the only advice I have to give you,” said the sage of sages.

“The Secret of Happiness lies in looking at all the wonders of the world and never forgetting the two drops of oil in the spoon.”

*

My weeks of research into "happiness literature" have  been summarised by a simple fable found in a favourite story, Paulo Coelho's The Alchemist. 

Happiness - oh, that elusive happiness -  is being truly grateful and living in the moment, yet never losing sight of our purpose and goals we're working towards. Sounds pretty simple, huh?

Yeah, about that...

And what the heck is that "purpose" we are supposed to strive for? How do we know where to head? 

Well, the old king in the story has an answer for that, too. In his easier-said-than-done, airy-fairy fable type way...

"It's what you have always wanted to accomplish," he says.  "Everyone, when they are young, knows what their destiny is. At that point in their lives, everything is clear and everything is possible. They are not afraid to dream, and to yearn for everything they would like to see happen to them in their lives. 

"But, as time passes, a mysterious force begins to convince them that it will be impossible for them to realize their destiny... It's a force that appears to be negative, but actually shows you how to realize your destiny. It prepares your spirit and you will, because there is one great truth on this planet: whoever you are, or whatever it is that you do, when you really want something, it's because that desire originated in the soul of the universe. It's your mission on earth."

What else is really obvious that needs learning?

So I’m sitting here in what feels like Wellington’s eternal summer. Okay, maybe there is an eight-degree wind gusting, but I’m still able to be topless. Waiting for a tui to fly onto the tip top of the pine tree in front of me to take a picture for you. Just as a lovestruck pair of them did a few minutes ago, inspiring me to write this.

Today’s Growth Lesson was a toss up. On my daily wander (just after sunrise this morning), I was thinking about things I had learnt from my tenth reading of the Alchemist. There are plenty more, but the simplest lesson that I found to echo the realities of life was about moving on, of life’s phases.

As I said yesterday, putting these things out there, in all their simplicity, makes me feel a little vulnerable. I am admitting I am only just, truly learning these things.

Sometimes I find myself wishing that I could just stick with one thing, to not be forever changing my mind, changing my identity. Like Julia the weed lady – she’s chosen her identity (it’s pretty cool), put it out there, and now sticks with it – or has to stick with it. (And yes, this partially comes out of the frustration I sometimes feel towards the constant evolution of our business ideas.)

Anyway, I realised this morning that this constant ‘evolution’, which often feels like ripping yourself away from a life that could have been nice, is all part of what Paulo Coelho considers part of the journey towards our ‘personal legend’. I have no idea what my ‘purpose’ is, my role to play in the improvement of our world, but I see so many parallels with Santiago’s journey towards his own personal legend.

I could have (and planned to) stay an academic – I was good at school, it was easy, and so it was an easy choice. Researching, interviewing, travelling. Helping the world by increasing our understanding of it. Or, I could have remained a traveler, constantly searching the world for happiness and new experiences. Then came the patient phase; the identity to rip all past identities away. Then there was journalism, or a 9-5 government career in the social development field… each had their own future.

Or, I could remain here. I love this little flat, love the music we listen to and the food we cook. Although recognizing it’s at James’s expense, it’s joyful. I want to stay comfortable. It’s nice (I used to detest that word). The prospect of giving up the niceties of being a yo-pro couple without kids and living on a tight budget in order to try to start businesses that could fail is scary. I’m scared. But it’s the next step – it’s what we have to do to keep growing.

Phew, that was a bit long-winded! Sorry. There’s today’s Growth Lesson for you though – it will usually take being uncomfortable and vulnerable to failure to keep growing. Heard that plenty of times before? Yeah…me too. Here we go again…

So why on earth did a pair of tuis flying to perch on the very top spire of the pine tree inspire that? Well, I watched them thinking ‘they must feel like they’re at the top of the world, what a perfect spot for them’. But of course, they soon took the leap into the air again. 

(Cute!)

Growth lesson #1

These may sound silly, but I had the idea today to begin posting about one Growth Lesson I learn from life each day. Usually, the things we learn in life are so simple, and we've probably heard and tried to practise them a thousand times before it sinks in. So bear with me as I explore the simple secrets of life.

Today's Growth lesson I dedicate to Adriene, with whom James and I have begun doing yoga with before bed and when we wake. Here she is in one of her masterpieces:

Adriene's motto is "find what feels good". She's all about listening to your body and personalising your life. If you've never tried yoga before, or are cynical but secretly think it would be good like I used to be, then this girl is the one to check out. Especially this one, but make sure to brush your teeth first because you'll want to fall straight into bed!

Anyway, a while ago I began my (other) wonderful daily routine of going up to the top of Te Ahumairangi hill here in Wellington, wandering slowly around the top soaking in the 360 degree views, and heading back down. How fortunate am I! This soon evolved into running, partially to make it more time efficient, but also for the new challenge it presented. I had a goal - to run to the top. I never made it. It's a seven minute run. 

On this beautiful morning, I felt a tiny speck of a sinking feeling in my heart as I headed out, a tiny whisper of dread about the inevitable gasping that running uphill brings. It's such a small thing, but I decided to walk. And give up my "goal" of running to the top. Happily. Because for me, in nature, that's what feels good. So there's today's lesson for me: find what feels good (not what society tells us feels good) and listen to my body.  

Growth has grown up (or down?)

Are you on the right blog? Did she finally delete that old depressing thing that was never updated? Did she only use it to moan about her trials, and now that she's off having fun she can't be bothered with the online community?

And who the heck is 'Beebs'?

Well, she is the new author of this blog. This is the handover speech. And yes, you are still in the right place, and yes, she is off having fun. 

It was only as I was regaining my energy at the end of chemotherapy that I realised how far it had taken me down physically. I was buzzing. Blood pulsing through my veins, the energy was like a wave. 

Six months later, it was only when I started regaining my dreams that I realised how far it had taken me down psychologically. I was buzzing. 

Although I fought it, cancer had made me content with life as it was. I had become a nurturer, protective of life. If we're happy, why change? The future was a great unknown, a blank slate. 

The human brain as we know it went through a period of unprecedented growth over the last two million years. While the brain of Homo habilus had spent nearly 500 million years getting to its just-over-half-a-kilogram size, our anatomically modern Homo sapiens' brains have near tripled that size. This growth was almost entirely the addition of our frontal lobes. Here's my pretty (dented) one:

Until fairly recently, writes Dan Gilbert in Stumbling on Happiness, scientists thought the frontal lobe wasn't any good to us, because people whose frontal lobes were damaged seemed to do fine without them. However in the twentieth century, scientists began realising there were actually calming benefits to removing part of the frontal lobe, and thus arose the lobotomy. 

...needless to say, scientists then began to take note of what was being lost. People who had frontal lobe damage or partial removal seemed normal (perhaps happier), functioned normally, and tested pretty normally. However, when given a task that involved planning and conceptualising the future, they tanked. 

"Live in the moment" and its many variations is one of the most common mantras in happiness studies and philosophies. Ironically, James and I had recently decided to study happiness, to find a way to make it fit within capitalism so we could make a living while increasing the world's net happiness. With his support, I had quit my job to work on this.

The Beebs revelation came to full fruition on a weekend road trip to the East Coast. For the first few weeks of my 'new job', we had struggled with me being happy to do the work for our businesses, but easily distracted by what I saw as more pressing tasks for our lives, now. I was frustrated that James wanted me to be more driven, more pumped up about a future I couldn't seem to fully grasp. 


He was the future person, I said, please, take care of that because I'm so sorry, I can't see it. I'm the now person, let me take care of the now things - the next meal, groceries, the dishes, taking care of our plants, exercise, smiling, those things that make our everyday lives more comfortable and joyful. These words, although I had never felt more earnest about anything, also felt like a stranger's words coming out of my mouth. This wasn't me, before. But this is how I feel, now. 

Beebs was a pet name for me James developed post-treatment. Beebs was the me that was a bit aloof, that always had crazy hair (or no hair, or half-hair), that danced in the kitchen in bootie pants and a Swandri, that grinned at the sight of a bee or a cool tree (there are so many!), that blasts Ice Cube while doing dishes with bright yellow rubber gloves. Every meal was the best meal of her life (the more experimental, the better though), she mismatched clothes on a daily basis and beamed at strangers as they walked by, giggling at the sheer joy of being alive. Beebs was how I coped. 

I'm sick of being Beebs, I said one day. Feeling a little sexually frustrated and wanting to be taken seriously, I missed the way James used to look at me. As Bethany. As an intellectual equal, a business partner, a woman. I love Beebs though, James smiled. She's part of you. 

In the late 1960's, Harvard professor Dr Richard Alpert quit his job and took off to India. There, he met a spiritual guru, later returning to the US as 'Baba Ram Dass' to write the popular book Be Here Now. It's well known that to quiet the mind - to live in the now as Eckhart Tolle puts it, or in Osho's words, moment-to-moment - is no mean feat for humans. Our mental chatter can be incessant, tiring, addictive. Yet this "present moment" is also well known to be a path to happiness. 

Now hang on - if we were just all happy, living in the moment all the time, meandering like bumble bees getting drunk off pollen from one flower to the next, then what would the world come to? Why would anyone strive? 

Natural questions, ones that I was relieved to find psychologists and philosophers have already pondered and found certain answers to, so we don't have to. Subjective Wellbeing calls momentary-happiness 'positive affect', and therefore to measure our happiness, we subtract our amount of negative moments from our amount of positive feelings, and add that to how satisfied we are with life-as-a-whole. Martin Seligman, the 'father of positive psychology', initially separated happiness into three "happy lives" - the pleasant life, one filled with happy feelings, the good life, in which we cultivate strengths and virtues, and the meaningful life, in which we use our strengths for the good of others. Many more have developed their own definitions to explain the different types of happiness; Ed Diener, Tony Fernando, Dan Gilbert, Bradburn, Ruut Veenhoven, Bentham, even the United Nations. 

And so, my research into happiness and personal life beautifully, painfully collided. I have been so 'happy', but struggling to see the future has led to tension - with James, yes, but mostly with myself. 

That's why I've decided we've just gotta roll with it. Maybe it's okay to be the person who can be happy in the present moment at the expense of imagining the future, maybe I should be valuing it, even sharing it. To not have it "all planned out". 

You can expect much, much shorter posts from now on. And much lighter. 

Handing you over to her now, all the best!

Bethany