The Pursuit Of Happiness.

I have a few friends who suffer from depression (not only due to being friends with me). Obviously, being a songwriter, I listen to their problems with an understanding ear and then try and rhyme their pain (again and again). Actually, joking aside, it’s a terribly impotent feeling to be friends with someone who isn’t happy and there’s nothing you can do to improve things except not say things like ‘cheer up’ or ‘it’s not so bad’.

What is happiness anyway? All I know is being content is not the same as being happy to me. Is happiness the absence of pain? Why do I ask so many questions in my blog? Why oh why? Sorry. I got carried away. By the way, you may be wondering how come I seem to have so much time to blog at the moment. It’s actually because I’m in the studio all weekend baby sitting a particularly depressing band and am rarely called upon except to say things like ‘that was perfect, let’s do another for safety’ (top ten things producer’s say in the studio volume one).

The notion of happiness intrigues and baffles me. When and where were you happiest? What did it smell like? How old were you? Do you ever think you’ll be that happy again? The idea of finding happiness as if it’s a place you arrive at is odd. For me, happiness is the unexpected moment of peace or beauty. I can’t plan it. Although perhaps we should all schedule some happiness time in our day: Happy hour, when we’re half as hard on ourselves and twice as nice to everyone else.

Generally I’d say I’m a happy person. People seem to think I am. I wonder if it’s because I was lucky enough to be born happy or because I nearly died of having collapsed lungs when I was 16 and that whole hospitalization thing made me insanely grateful to be alive? My friend Hayley called me the ‘peaceful fucking warrior’ once because I don’t sweat the small stuff much. I was saying to an old friend who is staying for a few days that I was pretty happy and he said ‘be careful who you say that to’. I understand what he means. To say you’re happy has a smug, almost sinister moonie-esque overtones. ‘He can’t live in this world and be happy, he must have been lobotomised’, hold on, that explains the scar.

I read that to be happy you need to do the following things; Exercise, eat healthily, smile at yourself in the mirror, eat eggs for breakfast and oily fish for dinner, believe in a God, have a pet, sleep, meditate, do something you enjoy, do something philanthropic, live in the moment and drink Guinness (o.k, I added the last one).

It’s as simple as that according to the experts. So go forth and pursue happiness and by the way, if this blog cheered you up then I’m claiming it as my philanthropic gesture for the day. Happy Easter.