In the new book O’s Little Book of Happiness, health and fitness guru Gretchen Reynolds writes about how pleasure can be had quite readily—provided you’re ready to try a few of these simple steps.
Chocolate can be a taste of ecstasy. It not only releases good-vibe brain chemicals but also feels pleasant in the mouth. It speaks to us, culturally, of reward and indulgence
Then there’s music. Try listening to a soothing piece, a song that calms you. Close your eyes. Your pulse should slow and your muscles loosen. Not happening? Put on classical, folk, rock, soul, hip-hop, reggaeton—whatever appeals. Let the music transport you, make you forget where you are, how long you’ve been listening, and… you were saying something about troubles?
Go outside. Walk or drive to the nearest park or beach, away from human hubbub. Sit quietly. Listen for finches, gulls, the whisper of a breeze, the bubble and whoosh of a stream. If someone is with you, reach for that person’s hand. Smile. Say nothing. Let the birds chorus.
Look at something beautiful. Watching CNN’s war- and-natural-disaster coverage, while good for your civic knowledge, won’t do much for your sense of well-being. But there’s an antidote: Switch to a slow, soothing nature show. Lush landscapes and quiet scenes of ponds and streams quell distress. Find a room with a view, especially of trees, grass, and sky. Any view will help, even of a parking lot. To find pleasure, look at life.
Remember. Memories often carry melancholy, too, and that emotion also is bound up in our sense and our joys. Ask any mother of grown children who sniffs a new- born’s peachy-sweet head. Her pleasure will be plaited with loss. It won’t necessarily be any less buoying for that, though.
Smell things! Scents can send you. Pleasure is wrapped up with remembrance, as Marcel Proust knew but neu- roscientists are only beginning to understand. The smells that give you the most pleasure are tied to your loves and longings and your life’s experiences. Think back to when you were happiest. Was it your wedding night, or the day you got the job of your dreams? How did that moment smell? Was your husband wearing a freshly laundered shirt? Did your new employer have roses in her office? Do some detective work. Visit fra- grance counters and flower shops. Close your eyes. Breathe deep. Keep a journal of the smells that unex- pectedly transport you. Then re-create them. Turn off the lights, lie down, and inhale a freshly picked rose, or bury your nose in one of your husband’s shirts, preferably one he’s just taken off as he slips into bed beside you.
‘This is an edited extract from gretchen Reynolds – O’s Little Book of Happiness, published by Pan Macmillan, RRP $24.99. Purchase it here
This story was originally published on The Carousel.
