Happiness and why it’s those little things that do matter
These are the top three things parents wish for their children: be successful; be happy; be quiet for 30 minutes so we can have a nap. happiness is some distance away however because, according to a survey this week, we are at our healthiest at 30, our wealthiest at 47 and our happiest at 39.
Do you doubt this? I do! Not just because I won’t see 39 again unless it’s on the front of a bus, but also because the day I turned 39 I had my bag stolen, containing my purse, laptop, housekeys and plane ticket back to scotland.
Consequently my happiest year began with trips to the police station and a locksmith, plus a small cry at the British Midland check-in desk when one of the staff tried to cheer me up while sorting out a new ticket, by giving me a mini bottle of Prosecco and wishing me ‘happy Birthday’.
The default response to any pronouncements on happiness has to be sceptical. Only last year, the UN announced switzerland as the happiest country in the world. When asked what made them so happy, the swiss were unable to give an answer because they were too busy counting their money and filling their mouths with chocolate.
still, perhaps as we get older, we do become more at ease with ourselves, and more prepared to take c hances in t he pursuit of happiness.
ONe friend of mine relaunched herself into the world of dating at 39 and resolved not to dismiss any potential suitor until she had spent four hours in their company. This went down to three after a date with an earnest man from IT, who took her out for a delicious wine- soaked dinner, invited her back for coffee, then rummaged through his DVDs and put on a copy of Confessions of a Window Cleaner, murmuring suavely: ‘ We should definitely watch this – one of the girls looks a bit like you.’
even those who are consciously coupled by 39 may look to introduce new things into the relationship; such as the friend who found a tall container of milk sitting on the hallway radiator on her way to bed.
When she tried to return it to the fridge, her husband stepped in. ‘It’s a test batch of Radiator Yogurt,’ he explained. ‘It has to stay there overnight, so tomorrow we can have Radiator Yogurt for breakfast.’ And they did, although after eating half a pint, the friendly bacteria failed to behave in an avuncular manner any more.
And did you know that the average age of a Twitter user is 39? Of course it is because Twitter offers the delirious freedom of acting like a derelict shouting at passing traffic, but with none of the smell.
Those of us who have still to reach peak happiness, or perhaps have started the descent, may prefer to be alert for smaller, unconditional joys.
A new anything with Tom hardy in it. salt beef bagels with proper mustard. A very specific episode of the simpsons where springfield gets a monorail.
Or perhaps heed the great comic writer eric sykes, who refused to chase happiness because it was so transient: ‘I prefer to be an enthusiastic man. I look forward to tomorrow because I know full well that the sun is going to be shining and I’m going to feel great. That is what keeps me on the right track.’