Let's Start the New Year Right (Bing Crosby)

For 2009, A Happiness Action Plan
Dr. Sandra R. Scantling
December 28, 2008

Every New Year's Eve, as the clock ticks its remaining few seconds and the ball in Times Square begins its descent, I feel excitement and trepidation. It doesn't seem to matter where I happen to be celebrating. Be it a big party or quietly at home with my husband (and Dick Clark, of course), my reactions are the same.

Like so many others, when the final countdown begins, I want to "be there" to witness the birth of the New Year. At that instant, at the juxtaposition of old and new, I feel compelled to hold on, to pay special attention, as a voice inside whispers: "This is it ... this is all there will be in 2008. The record is sealed."

Amid the joy and celebration, there is a solemnity as I reflect on my personal responsibilities and wonder, "What will the coming year bring? What is my role in making it a happy year?"

Aristotle said: "Happiness is the meaning and purpose of life, the whole aim and end of human existence." It is one of the most often wished for, most frequently written about and most poorly understood experience. There are thousands of texts on the subject, from the wise to the mundane, from spiritual guidance to self-help — but happiness still often eludes us.

Although I'm a sex therapist, most couples come to see me because they'd like to be happier. They know this can't be all there is in life. Arguing and work. Where's the joy? Where's the passion? they ask.

As they look across my office at their partner and make blaming statements, like "you never tell me you love me any more" or "you always wait for me to initiate sex," they ignore the hurt looks that result. Each party feels slighted and often defensive. Even if they sound like they're taking responsibility — "Yes, I admit it, I'm not a very expressive person, but I've always been this way ... " — it sometimes comes out as justification for their behavior. And, in case you haven't noticed, nagging, complaining or finger pointing only builds resentment and hostility. I've never heard a patient say, "I finally decided to change because my partner yelled at me in a convincing enough way."

So I can hear you asking, "What am I supposed to do? I deserve to be happy."

Yes you do. So why aren't you? Who is responsible for your happiness?

Perhaps you are the person stopping yourself from being happy. How do you feel when you think about acting differently to achieve happiness? Maybe you're annoyed at the suggestion of changing, a case of "Here we go again; I have to do it all. If only he wasn't so cold, selfish, controlling (fill in the adjectives), things would be fine." I can guarantee he's thinking the same thing.

This is a fruitless struggle that leaves both partners exhausted. No wonder you're tired and don't have any energy left to make love.

The New Year is the perfect time to experiment — when the calendar resets, we're given a chance for a "do-over." Instead of making the usual resolutions, create a happiness action plan. Then follow through. Find where happiness is present in your lives, and do more of it. Remember something you're grateful for in your partner that you haven't acknowledged. Then tell them. Laugh and smile more often.

As this challenging year comes to a close, and we make our personal wishes for health, peace, prosperity and happiness, it's comforting to know that people all over the globe are wishing for the same things. As Mahatma Gandhi said, "Be the change you want to see in the world."

Happy New Year!

My husband and I are keeping it fairly low-key tonight - although we've had at least three invitations to various get-togethers, we're probably going to a movie and then home to drink champagne in the jacuzzi. Can't help but feel somber about my mom and Vic, two people who have lived their lives fully but are now struggling - I know they'd advocate Carpe Diem (and I'll do that tomorrow, I promise), but tonight solitude and close companionship seems more appropriate...

P.S. Over at Star Maker Machine, we're paying tribute to musicians who have passed on in 2008 (my contribution can be found here) - condolences and blessings to all who left us throughout the year...

SONG: Let's Start the New Year Right as sung by Bing Crosby (written by Irving Berlin for the movie Holiday Inn)

BOOK: The New Year by Pearl S. Buck

POEM: If I Had My Life to Live Over by Nadine Stair (85 years old)

I'd dare to make more mistakes next time.
I'd relax, I would limber up.
I would be sillier than I have been this trip.
I would take fewer things seriously.
I would take more chances.

I would climb more mountains and swim more rivers.
I would eat more ice cream and less beans.
I would perhaps have more actual troubles,
but I'd have fewer imaginary ones.

You see, I'm one of those people who live
sensibly and sanely hour after hour,
day after day.

Oh, I've had my moments,
And if I had it to do over again,
I'd have more of them.
In fact, I'd try to have nothing else.
Just moments, one after another,
instead of living so many years ahead of each day.

I've been one of those people who never goes anywhere
without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a raincoat
and a parachute.
If I had to do it again, I would travel lighter than I have.

If I had my life to live over,
I would start barefoot earlier in the spring
and stay that way later in the fall.
I would go to more dances.
I would ride more merry-go-rounds.
I would pick more daisies.

QUOTE: “The chains of habit are generally too small to be felt until they are too strong to be broken.” ~ Samuel Johnson

Marie (Irving Berlin)

My Aunt Marie (my mother's sister) has been in the hospital since Sunday morning - my mom, brother and sister have been by her side around the clock, taking turns spending the night. Marie has been diagnosed with congestive heart failure - her doctors believe she also suffered a stroke... and now pneumonia has set in.

She hasn't eaten in four days - although they have been giving her morphine to ease the pain, she is still agitated and frustrated... because she isn't able to communicate nor to understand what is going on. They are moving her to a hospice center this afternoon - I will be flying up first thing Saturday morning to widen the circle of family...

Marie is my mother's sister, two years older (turning 80 this September) - I love hearing the stories of her early life, how glamorous and carefree she was, all the photos showing a shapely, mischievous woman with red lips and an ever-present cigarette. Her dating life was legendary and she finally settled down with B, older and previously married with two daughters - she gave birth to a son soon after and, at the age of 37, had a debilitating stroke, which paralyzed the entire right side of her body. My mom flew up to Minnesota to be with Marie and to help take care of Brad, her child, who was almost 2 - it quickly became obvious that extensive physical and speech therapy would be necessary... so mom brought Brad home to live with us (I was 10 at the time).

Marie moved to New York to live with my grandmother... and my parents legally adopted Brad 4 years later - I was thrilled to have a younger brother (as I still am, even now that he has grown into adulthood). He didn't think it a bit unusual to have two moms, one in the house and one long-distance. Marie would visit us, as well as send Brad cards for special occasions (birthdays, Christmas, graduations... including from the Marine Corps) - her speech remained halting and her motor skills shaky, but we loved the game of figuring out what she was trying to say as she sounded out each syllable, and she would beam with pleasure when her efforts and our powers of deduction would come together for a successful sentence (whew!).

When my Nana died, Marie moved to a nursing home in Atlanta, where my mom inherited the role of caregiver - my brother and sister would visit, and I would occasionally call and send cards and flowers, but the bulk of assistance fell to mom, who faithfully stopped in a few times a week, phoned every day, and kept Marie in tissues (Puffs!), her favorite headbands and flannel nightgowns. Mom ran interference with the nurses and took Marie to her doctor and dentist appointments - even when Marie would go through episodes of paranoia and dementia, Mom was a constant of calm and support.

Marie has been the epitome of unconditional love, never a moment of blame/shame/guilt... and always an instant smile, a chipper voice and a stroking hand - she never worried when she didn't hear from us but radiated when she did. Spending time with her during our once-a-year Christmas visits was warming and all-too-short, whether at Mom's house or at the nursing home - she's always been such a *sport* and basked in any family interaction, no matter where, who or how many (or few).

It is distressing to know her body is now betraying her... and, for someone who's always been a fighter, it is very clear she is now making a conscious decision to allow the shutting down - I think she's really... just... tired. So... whether I'm in time to hold her hand and give her permission to let go... or whether I arrive after the fact to help with various arrangements, I feel the need to be there for Marie, who's always been there for me (as well as for my husband and children) - this world will be a different, sadder place when she has passed...

[Added 6/13/08: My aunt transitioned comfortably and gracefully in her sleep at 2:45 a.m., with my mom, brother and sister by her side - R.I.P. Ree Ree...]

SONG: Marie by Irving Berlin

BOOK (in this case, a short story): The Last Leaf by O. Henry

POEM: Sonnets to Orpheus, Part II, XIII by Rainer Maria Rilke

Be ahead of all leaving as though it were
behind you, like the winter as it parts,
for among winters is one so endlessly winter
only through overwintering can your heart

survive. Be dead forever in Eurydice -
rise singing, praising back to pure relation.
Be here among the vanished; near the tree
of death, be ringing glass that shatters even

as it rings. Know conditions of nonbeing,
the endless ground of your vibration down
in you: one day you'll be fully fulfilled.

And to full nature's store of speechless things,
of worn and everything that's dumb and muffled,
joyfully add yourself - and end the count.

QUOTE: "Our death is not an end if we can live on in our children and the younger generation. For they are us, our bodies are only wilted leaves on the tree of life." ~ Albert Einstein