Happiness
My son has just gone back to univers1ty for the Autumn term and things are not so good. Uniquely amongst my children, he managed to have a perfect first year ... making masses of friends; coming pretty much top in his subject and (by accident) having one of the nicest rooms in the 'best' college on campus. The only flaw was his not finding the girl of his dreams but that was mainly due to his reluctance to 'commit' for more than a few days.

The second year seems to be all downhill. They can no longer live on campus and are moved out to dreary student lodgings in the town - an annoying bus journey away. Meaning horribly early starts in the morning and a feeling of isolation the rest of the time. All his once vast group of casual friends have cliquily nested down into their various houses and usually 'can't be arsed' to drag out just to have a drink. Against his will he was emotionally blackmailed into living with a group of just boys and that has been made worse by his finding that during the vacation they have all started 'going steady'. One of them, inferior to him in every way (apparently), even with a girl he had seriously considered himself.

I had encouraged him originally with the fun thought of hundreds of new F1rst years. Bound to consist of co0l, charming guys and g0rgeous girls .. all eager to befriend a suave and impressive older man. Errrr .... 'Who do they F.CKING think they are?', a furious voice on the phone. 'Every time I even speak to a F1rst year girl she gets this stupid bitchy smile as if I am trying to pick her up in some sad way .. I'm OFFICIALLY meant to be helping them all for god's sake. And the boys are all F.CKING dull BUT for some unknown reason SO f.cking over-confident. AND the jock tw@ts who used to live next door have got in first with some twisted gossip about us so the only group of faintly attractive girls whisper and sneer when they see me ....'. I'm starting to f.cking HATE it here'.

His sisters are very, very unsupportive. 'Chr1st, do you remember MY Sec0nd year?' They said in unison. I had forgotten ... but it is true that they were not good. My older daughter rashly moved into an otherwise boy house with an acquaintance from school she had bumped into in the street. She suffered a year based around dirt and football. Most evenings she would arrive back to find all her food already eaten and, often, her 'friend' lying cosily in her bed where he had obviously been all day. 'Your room is so much nicer than mine'. Her clothes drawers had invariably been rifled through (EEeuuuwww) and usually coffee spilt on her duvet. You'd think she would have moved but was going through a major breakup and feeling weak and low and nothing else was on offer. Then her favourite lecturer jumped off the suspens10n bridge and a dead body was discovered in her train compartment (at the other end) just as she was on her way back from a recuperative weekend with us. And towards the end of the year a drug-fuelled schiz0 student fell madly in love with her and stalked her constantly and madly. Soooo .....

My other daughter, who is only happy when her surrounding are clean and ordered, also made the miscalculation of moving in with a random old school acquaintance. The friend was older and there was a subtext that, due to a wildly social climbing mother, she had some very, very smart friends. Not only did none of these ever visit the house but the friend was exploring her crusty (and druggy) side and the place became st0ned party central. My daughter's room was sadly above the sitting room and she lay sleepless while loud druggy music and st0ney laughing carried on night after night. She kept a little pile of clean cooking stuff in her room and crept to the festering kitchen when the house was empty. 'It was as if my entire carpet was woven out of old vomit. Nothing, even steam cleaning, got rid of the smell and I think the person before me used to pee in the corner'. She ended up spending four days a week in London that year as it was only an hour or so by coach. Often commuting to lectures just for the day .... So ....

For some reason I had read recently three different famous people talking about their discovery that spending your life expecting to be happy was depressing and pointless. It was better to try to make your life full and interesting .. and let happiness appear where it may. So I passed this idea on to my son .. interrupting him mid-rant ... and he was quite struck with it. As am I. Suddenly a huge burden is lifted. I have not managed to overcome all difficulties, super-humanly. I am not happy because I am not famous or successful or wildly popular or have a sparkling clean and impressive house and I am not charmingly dressed with perfect hair. But I am not TRYING to be happy. So those things don't actually matter so much.

Scenario: Wakes up. It is raining. Looks in mirror ... hmmm. Reviews present life situation .. hmm .. HMMmm. Thinks. 'Well, none of this is a cause for happiness so I must feel a terrible failure'. Re-thinks. 'But as happiness is not my major goal then I don't feel SUCH a terrible failure after all'. Which makes me happy.
- posted by Iris @ 10/19/2005 08:22:00 AM comment