how to have a nice day
(or at least try)
Hi everyone. There are a lot of new folks here, which makes me a little nervous because we don’t know each other yet, but welcome. This was going to be a paid post, but since many of you might be less familiar with Hmm, I figured we could do away with the paywall today. I usually write about culture, but today we’re discussing good days and how to have them. Consider it topical.
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I had a lovely little day last week. It's been a bad month for a lot of us, and it's hard to have nice days when the months are difficult. But last week I had a day that was pleasant, peaceful, even productive, and when I went to sleep I thought oh, wow, were that every day could be like this. So I dissected it and then I wanted to tell you about it, in the hope that it might inspire someone to manufacture their own lovely little day. Because it was—manufactured, that is.
It doesn't make it any less lovely, but I do find that I have to be quite intentional about happiness (?) these days. Which is a bummer and frankly, a bit embarrassing. Like I’ve forgotten how to be a person. Once in a while, I'd love for a good day to find me, rather than the other way around. But it does seem earned, when we finally do meet each other, so I suppose it could be worse.
These aren't instructions, although they may read like them. Suggestions, if anything. Mostly, a note to self.
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First off, and I'm sorry about this, you've gotta wake up early. I know, I know, people who impose early wake-up calls are circadian bullies, according to several close sources. But do you know how much time there is in the morning? So much! I’m both a morning person and a night owl (I don’t sleep much), so I can tell you with a certain degree of authority that the early quiet is superior to the late quiet. Less does-everyone-hate-me, more ahead-of-me-is-nothing-but-sheer-possibility.
Okay.
Do you have a little beverage with you? Coffee, for me, but maybe you're one of those hot water with lemon folks. If so, congratulations. Now write down—preferably by hand, because it's nice to see the ink flowing across the page and know that it's coming from you—a list of things you'd like to do today; include a couple of things you should do. It should be an ambitious list, but not a delusional one. Include "text [friend who texted you two weeks ago] back." There is definitely someone to whom you owe a text. It's fine. Try not to make it about yourself. Apologize for the delay and ask how they are. (You probably owe several people an email, too, but like I said: ambitious, not delusional.)
If you can, go outside. A short walk. Or a long walk, but a short one will do, too. No, doing jumping jacks in your room is not the same. Put a little fake meeting in your calendar if you have to. Bring your phone if you must, but try not to look at it. What's an album you loved as a teenager? Put it on1 and harken back to that math class that almost ruined your GPA and therefore your life in tenth grade. Too soon, maybe, but look at you: life not ruined, after all, and if it is, then it's likely due to more than a shitty math class.
Text that friend back.2
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Some folks think that to have a nice day is to frolic, to do only the things you want to do and none of the things you have to do, much as a young child would. Maybe it's the lapsed Catholic in me, but I don't particularly subscribe to this sentiment, in large part because I am no longer a young child and living an unmoored life weighs on me.
For instance: the other day I finally googled a tax-related question that's been on the back of my mind for—I kid you not—months, and the answer was so simple, and frankly such a relief, that I almost banged my head against the wall for waiting so long to look it up. I refuse to learn, though, so I will of course repeatedly proceed in this exact manner.
People like to compare the obligation to do things to Sisyphus and his little boulder, forgetting that Sisyphus was alone, doomed, and in hell. While I deeply empathize with the urge to mythologize your life (romanticizing might be running its course), it might be worth remembering you are not the eternal victim of a Greek god because you have to make dinner or respond to an email or gather your tax forms into a neat folder or like, stretch. Annoyances, sure, but don’t our responsibilities—to ourselves and to others—tell us that we are alive and in community? And yes, an obligation can feel like a burden, but it can also be a tether. I find I need tethers more than I realized—I’m prone to flailing without them. It’s why I love routines and to-do lists.
Once you let go of the idea that having responsibilities ruins your life, a nice day is much likelier to find you.
Apologies if this makes me sound like a life coach’s assistant, but there's something very clarifying to me about acknowledging personal ambitions and working towards them. Like, I’m not religious, but I can grasp the life-affirming nature of purpose.
All this to say, do not consider your nice day wasted if it’s not wholly consumed by frolicking.
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Sorry, I've digressed. Have some toast. I’m so serious. Bread and butter is bread and butter for a reason.
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I know I mentioned texting your friend(s) back, but try to treat your phone less as an extension of your arm.3 As someone who spends an ungodly amount of time on mine, I can tell you: a nice day will not be found on your phone. Instead, regain familiarity with something that once held meaning for you. Grab an old book off the shelf and try to find your favorite passages. Maybe they’ve changed. Or you have.
If you've only just decided to have a nice day, it might be too late to see a friend today. People are busy. But make plans for next week, and remind yourself that being someone who frequently cancels plans is not liberating, but isolating. Keep the plans. Make roots of them.
Think of a random topic you wish you knew more about. Brutalist architecture, say. The Dulles brothers. Stephen Sondheim. Pointillism. Set a timer for 30 minutes and do a brief Wikipedia dive; scroll to the bottom and click on a few of the references. Recall that a lot of, if not most, old articles on traditional media websites are archived, so you can access them even if they are paywalled. Find a notebook and jot some notes, maybe. Remember what it's like to acquire knowledge for its own sake. Check out the works listed under "Further reading." Write them down; perhaps next time you're at a bookstore or a library, you can look for them.
Have a simple dinner—make it, if you can. I'm partial to a giant bowl of pasta, myself. Tell someone about your day; ask them about theirs.
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Headphones are implied. Do not get me started on the no-headphones epidemic.
I am so bad at this, which is why I'm belaboring the point. It's embarrassing to wax lyrical about community and simultaneously forget to text my friends back. Anyway, I'm trying to be better.
I’ve mentioned the forest app before, I think? But I’ve been adding “at least [x] hours of focus time” to my to-do lists, and I try to reach that time via the fake tree-planting. Yes, I can see the irony of using an app to use my phone less. I didn’t say I was anti-technology, did I?
"a nice day will not be found on your phone."
What a perfect and true sentiment. I need to put it as my lock screen!
Writing this on a post-it: "Once you let go of the idea that having responsibilities ruins your life, a nice day is much likelier to find you."