I've been in an absolutely vile mood for most of the day and had a really hard time getting out of it. Then I found this online, and for some reason it made me smile.
How to Cheer Up
First, it's important to deal with the any initial feelings of denial, anger, guilt, and blame. Though these feelings are perfectly natural, they won't help you feel better. When something bad happens accept that it has happened. You don't have to like it, but accept it. Denial won't make it go away.
Though temporary negative moods may even be helpful in dealing with a bad event, they won't help you recover and move on with your life. But a positive attitude will help you move forward. Most of us recognize this, but we often have trouble finding ways to elevate to more positive moods and attitudes. Research studies show the following interventions will help.
Communication - In times of stress and anxiety, sharing your feelings with a supportive person helps to lift your spirits. The act of verbalizing what you're thinking and feeling is often enough to help you get past initial negative feelings.
Meditation - Meditation calms, energizes, and diminishes stress. Find a quiet place to sit comfortably and focus on breathing deeply and slowly. This basic meditation will help.
Exercise - Physical exercise calms the mind and redirects thoughts and energy away from worries and concerns. Take a brisk walk, tackle some housework, or go to the gym; any form of exercise will help cheer you up.
Three good things - Identify three good things that have happened in the last 24 hours. Even the most routine positive event is helpful in lifting your mood, such as a good meal, a safe commute to work, or a cheerful hello from a friend.
Gratitude letter - Take a few moments and jot down a brief note of gratitude to someone who has been helpful to you recently. Again, this need not be an extraordinary helpful gesture, but a kind word, a supportive presence, or a sincere attempt to cheer you up are worthy of your gratitude.
Acts of kindness - Providing a kind act toward someone else not only helps that person but lifts our spirits in return. So even though you might be feeling down, strive to do something kind and helpful to another person.
I guess this is all completely obvious, but I've found myself in a trap of bad moods for the past few days and this really helped me swallow my pride and snap out of it. I've been planning a longer post about why I've been so frustrated lately, as well as about why it scares me all to hell, but I just haven't had the heart to tackle it. So this was a good first step. I guess Spinoza was right in suggesting that understanding a certain emotion provides one with all the strength one needs to counteract it.
N. has been thinking about slow: I have been thinking about small. I think I need to work microscopically, carefully, true to myself - and to finish things. Standing in my parents' house in Montreal, I admired my mother's masterful renovation of the downstairs kitchen: it is concentrated in a small space and a real delight, down to every detail. But the rest of the place is concrete, pipes and wires. It was a good reminder of how she and I and a number of other people in our family always take on too much, always dream up dramatic ideals without so much as even giving a single thought as to how they will be realized. I think it's called 'costing' or something like that. Skipping this step more often than not seems to destroy an otherwise fantastic project. In other words, it prevents it from ever actually materializing.
I came to a very similar conclusion when thinking about the Poet's dramatic style and, to a certain extent, the nature of theater in general: it's not for me or, at least, not really. The medium itself entails so much abstraction that it really does work best for expressing monumental themes, or absurdity. Writing for a small theater reminds you that all you get is a black stage stripped bare and a few voices and some small props - perhaps the voice of God on a crappy speaker. Or two bums, waiting around for a form of said God. If you're really lucky, you stage the plotting of a Danish prince. But you will never see the last twenty minutes inside Anna's head, unless you make her say everything out loud - and that doesn't really work.
So I think film still makes better sense to me. Ideally, I'd like to represent some of the microscopic reactions that make up our everyday experiences. Meteorology of the soul, or something like that. I guess they call that psychology, or phenomenology. Film as phenomenology? Or just. thinking. small. Writing a single scene at a time, down to every detail. Learning how to express each individual human emotion, building up a kind of grammar. Figuring out the different kinds of camera and stock and shutter speed so that I get the kind of clarity I am looking for.
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I saw this drawing at the MoMA a few days ago, but it wasn't called 'Mmasturbator' there. It was called 'Thirty Years Old.' I liked that title a lot better.
I've been thinking about building little walls lately, between myself and almost everyone else. And of moving into a bright bare studio with white walls and lots of skylights; or converting my new bedroom into a private little cafe (can't find a really good one in Atl). Though talking to C. today was pretty good.
I went cycling today! I'd found an old road bike in my father's garage a few days ago and tightened it up this morning. It was so good to get outside! Any kind of physical activity would probably have hit the spot by now, but this bicycle just made it perfect.
Very simply: it suits me. Though it's really sort of on the ugly side, objectively speaking, I genuinely kind of love the thing. I can dream of dresses and hillsides in old Italian movies. Pretty good.
I just did a strange thing. I told my sister about my blog. I took a few minutes to decide and then I told her. And then: I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror and seriously regretted it. But now I think it will be ok again. It's like sprinkling a bit of love and trust. She will know that I use fluffy alliterations, but won't make fun of me for them. I won't be self-deprecating, but will practice better writing skills. And she will know what is going on in my life. It will be good.
If you are reading this, I love you, so very, very much.
The day before I left, the Poet wrote me an email:
I thank you. For a nice day? For a lot more. This spring, you helped me understand and change my life. This sounds terribly heavy (těžkotonážně: heavy, in an industrial sense, like a heavy-duty dump truck), but it is true – a heavy-duty truth. It’s too bad you weren’t here longer… Strasbourg, Mníšek, St. Petersburg – It was and will remain a swamp!
I believe you will do well for yourself. Don’t let anything limit or manipulate you and it will be so.
Today I am going to a starchy Fourth of July barbeque, bearing lemonade and a creamy cucumber salad. Tomorrow: yoga. The moon the day after that!
This morning I came home after sleeping in the poet's office, by myself. We had a pretty amazing day together yesterday and then with his family a bit, and inevitably got quite drunk in the evening. I didn't have the keys to my grandmother's, so he put me to bed on the office sofa above his theater. Then he exhaustedly went home. I wandered around their place for a little while, pretty luxuriously just in my bra and underwear, turning the lights on and off and looking into each room. Then I had myself a little cry and went to bed.
It was cool and gray on my way home, and I wrote him an email when I got in, assuring him that I'd put the keys in their proper place and thanking him for everything. It was easy to be casual and happy in it, lots of jokes and plus signs and exclamation marks. But then I found myself wishing him a good year, and signing my name, and it was all I could do keep myself from writing Ps. I love you.
Hello! I've decided to start writing my blog again, but I wanted to have a fresh start. A lot has happened since I posted in December, and I just felt like turning the page a bit. I suppose I might be doing that in as many aspects of my life as possible right now, and starting a new website seemed a simple and sensible way to begin.
I am going to try and live my life! Holy hell! I just went to Russia, discovered Pet Sounds about half an hour ago (yes, I am indeed musically retarded), and am beginning to think about a new, three-part play. (I might actually try and post it here, in occasional bits and pieces, just to get myself going a bit?) And I have taken to finding my joys in the clouds.
Walking home, A. and I stopped across the canal from a church on Sadovaya. Then all of a sudden I looked up and
Julia Haas is McDonnell Postdoctoral Fellow in the Philosophy-Neuroscience-Psychology program at Washington University in St. Louis. Her research focuses on decision-making.
