T.E. W. (terez93) reviewed America the Anxious: How Our Pursuit of Happiness Is Creating a Nation of Nervous Wrecks on + 323 more book reviews
Am I happy? YOU BETCHA, after reading this book! Finally, a self-book which actually HELPS! 100% SUCCESS RATE!! (see below)
I'm slowly wading through it, but, admittedly, it's taking me some time... 'cause I'm incessantly being interrupted from laughing so hard I can't breathe. Check out this gem:
"I head next door to try out a couple of the 'hosted conversations,' smaller round table discussions, each on a specific theme, with a self-appointed host leading the conversation... The host is an executive coach, and, as he explains to the assembled group, a highly successful man. 'I'm a rock star in my field,' he tells us: 'I've reached a point in my life where I never have to say "I can't afford it."' ...He opens the discussion up to the group. 'What are you all curious to discuss with others to support you in conscious prosperity?'
'I want abundance,' says one of the women, clearly not sold on the idea of scarcity.
'Do you mean money?' I ask her.
'Yes,' she admits. 'But abundance sounds more Buddhist.'
I try another table. At this one the discussion topic sign reads 'The Most Important Principle in Business-I Love You.'
The host is a trim-looking man in his late forties, wearing the name tag Mark. He glances at my own name tag as I sit down.
'Hi Ruth: I love you,' says Mark.
I must look slightly taken aback, so he explains, 'Imagine a world in which every conversation started with "I love you." I go into businesses and run workshops on this principle. I have a hundred percent success rate.'
'At what?' I ask, confused.
'At breaking down barriers around "I love you." Can you imagine a world in which that happened?' he continues. "In which every time the president addressed the American people he started with "I love you"? In which every debate in Congress started with "I love you"? Every conversation in business?'
'Don't you think it might start to lose some of its meaning after a while?' I ask.
'I couldn't disagree more.' The woman sitting on the other side of Mark, who has been quiet up until this point, leaps to his defense. 'Let's not use this precious time for him to have to defend an idea that clearly doesn't need defending.'
Mark looks happy. He and the woman start talking to each other animatedly, and ignoring me. I suspect they no longer love me.
'"I love you'" is a can opener and catalyst,' says Mark. The woman nods enthusiastically. I try to inject myself back into the conversation.
'Is there anyone you don't love?' I ask.
'No,' says Mark. But after a moment's reflection, he reconsiders. 'Well, there are people that I f***ing hate and I wish God would take them. One of them is my business partner. I say to myself several times a day, "I love you."'
I think this might be unplanned, but he recovers his sales spiel quickly.
'Imagine, Ruth, if you started your next business meeting with "I love you." How would your boss feel?'
'I don't have a boss, but if I did, I imagine he or she would probably be a bit uncomfortable if I did that,' I say.
'But that's exactly my point. It's not about him. It's about you.'
'Don't you think that when you say something you should take into account how it will make the other person feel?' I ask.
The women steps in to answer on Mark's behalf, with the slightly pained tone of the enlightened trying not to lose patience with an obvious idiot. 'I just don't see the world that way,' she says. 'I take care of myself; you take care of yourself.'
'What do you do for a living?' I ask her.
'I WORK WITH BUSINESSES TEACHING COMPASSION.'"
PRICELESS!!
The rest of the book isn't as laugh-out-loud funny as this passage, but it's a pretty great exploration of the American concept of Happiness, and our seeming-obsession with how to achieve it, even if the process is making us miserable. Author Ruth Whipmann takes on the various facets of American happiness, from the self-help industry, to happiness in the workplace (or lack thereof), to parenting and misery to Mormonism and the "put-on-a-happy-face" façade of actual happiness (to judge from the number of defectors).
With a sharp wit and enviable insight, RW explores the American ideal of the pursuit of happiness, in life and business. She addresses the multi-billion dollar self-help (so-called) with humor and insight. Indeed, much of the book, which I GREATLY appreciated, demonstrated that, yes, Brits are frequently right when they start off on every journey assuming that everything is rubbish, and this is the most preeminent example. See the passage above: enough said for this topic. LOL
The chapter on parenting and happiness is likewise revealing, and sometimes brutally honest, as it is a forthcoming discussion on the issues surrounding happy kids and parents. Whether having children, as is often claimed, is instrumental for women to be truly happy and fulfilled depends heavily on the individual, as she notes. My favorite passage from this chapter is one of the most profound in the entire book, at least from the perspective of a childless spinster with multiple graduate degrees. It reads: "Most parents would agree that parenthood has opened up an otherwise inaccessible capacity for joy in their lives... No one wants to feel that they have made an irreversible life choice proved empirically to be a one-way ticket to misery. These studies laugh in the face of the eternal social bargain between parents and nonparents: they get freedom, we get joy. They get cocktails, we get meaning. Without the coziness of that emotional certainty, parenthood becomes just guilt and feces."
The chapter on happiness and religiousness centers on the author's time spent with a Mormon family, often cited in studies as the single happiest group in America, in the happiest city in America, Salt Lake City, Utah. It is very shortly clear, however, that not all that glitters is gold, and that LDS adherents face many of the same problems as everyone else, including self-doubt as to their life choices and frequently depression, despite the overwhelming community support they often enjoy that is lacking in other places. Again, I think the lesson is that happiness is such a highly individualized concept that it differs for each person, but "forced happiness," or the demand for outward expression of happiness and contentment is almost ever-present, whether it's at work, at church, or on social media, the subject of the next chapter.
In the same vein, the author explores the outward projection of happiness that Facebook and similar platforms have provided for people, who seemingly also hide behind a veil of happiness and contentment, concealing any unpleasantries behind the idealized photos they frequently post. Her own experiences also highlight the dark side of social media, that is, the tendency to foster an almost addictive desire for validation in the form of likes and comments on postings, which leads to ever greater unhappiness and stress when such feedback is perceived to be lacking. This is a dramatically under-acknowledged source of unhappiness in the modern world, in my opinion, which is why I personally eschew daily social media usage. I think it's most effective when it's used as a kind of an electronic journal that is intended to enhance your life, perhaps affording an opportunity to reflect on the things that you did or thought at a certain time in one's life rather than an outward display of a faux persona intended to impress people.
In sum, this was a very worthwhile book, with many moments of insight and introspection. I don't know if it will actually serve to enhance happiness on a broad scale, but it certainly provides readers with the opportunity to think about their own definition of happiness in a meaningful way.
I'm slowly wading through it, but, admittedly, it's taking me some time... 'cause I'm incessantly being interrupted from laughing so hard I can't breathe. Check out this gem:
"I head next door to try out a couple of the 'hosted conversations,' smaller round table discussions, each on a specific theme, with a self-appointed host leading the conversation... The host is an executive coach, and, as he explains to the assembled group, a highly successful man. 'I'm a rock star in my field,' he tells us: 'I've reached a point in my life where I never have to say "I can't afford it."' ...He opens the discussion up to the group. 'What are you all curious to discuss with others to support you in conscious prosperity?'
'I want abundance,' says one of the women, clearly not sold on the idea of scarcity.
'Do you mean money?' I ask her.
'Yes,' she admits. 'But abundance sounds more Buddhist.'
I try another table. At this one the discussion topic sign reads 'The Most Important Principle in Business-I Love You.'
The host is a trim-looking man in his late forties, wearing the name tag Mark. He glances at my own name tag as I sit down.
'Hi Ruth: I love you,' says Mark.
I must look slightly taken aback, so he explains, 'Imagine a world in which every conversation started with "I love you." I go into businesses and run workshops on this principle. I have a hundred percent success rate.'
'At what?' I ask, confused.
'At breaking down barriers around "I love you." Can you imagine a world in which that happened?' he continues. "In which every time the president addressed the American people he started with "I love you"? In which every debate in Congress started with "I love you"? Every conversation in business?'
'Don't you think it might start to lose some of its meaning after a while?' I ask.
'I couldn't disagree more.' The woman sitting on the other side of Mark, who has been quiet up until this point, leaps to his defense. 'Let's not use this precious time for him to have to defend an idea that clearly doesn't need defending.'
Mark looks happy. He and the woman start talking to each other animatedly, and ignoring me. I suspect they no longer love me.
'"I love you'" is a can opener and catalyst,' says Mark. The woman nods enthusiastically. I try to inject myself back into the conversation.
'Is there anyone you don't love?' I ask.
'No,' says Mark. But after a moment's reflection, he reconsiders. 'Well, there are people that I f***ing hate and I wish God would take them. One of them is my business partner. I say to myself several times a day, "I love you."'
I think this might be unplanned, but he recovers his sales spiel quickly.
'Imagine, Ruth, if you started your next business meeting with "I love you." How would your boss feel?'
'I don't have a boss, but if I did, I imagine he or she would probably be a bit uncomfortable if I did that,' I say.
'But that's exactly my point. It's not about him. It's about you.'
'Don't you think that when you say something you should take into account how it will make the other person feel?' I ask.
The women steps in to answer on Mark's behalf, with the slightly pained tone of the enlightened trying not to lose patience with an obvious idiot. 'I just don't see the world that way,' she says. 'I take care of myself; you take care of yourself.'
'What do you do for a living?' I ask her.
'I WORK WITH BUSINESSES TEACHING COMPASSION.'"
PRICELESS!!
The rest of the book isn't as laugh-out-loud funny as this passage, but it's a pretty great exploration of the American concept of Happiness, and our seeming-obsession with how to achieve it, even if the process is making us miserable. Author Ruth Whipmann takes on the various facets of American happiness, from the self-help industry, to happiness in the workplace (or lack thereof), to parenting and misery to Mormonism and the "put-on-a-happy-face" façade of actual happiness (to judge from the number of defectors).
With a sharp wit and enviable insight, RW explores the American ideal of the pursuit of happiness, in life and business. She addresses the multi-billion dollar self-help (so-called) with humor and insight. Indeed, much of the book, which I GREATLY appreciated, demonstrated that, yes, Brits are frequently right when they start off on every journey assuming that everything is rubbish, and this is the most preeminent example. See the passage above: enough said for this topic. LOL
The chapter on parenting and happiness is likewise revealing, and sometimes brutally honest, as it is a forthcoming discussion on the issues surrounding happy kids and parents. Whether having children, as is often claimed, is instrumental for women to be truly happy and fulfilled depends heavily on the individual, as she notes. My favorite passage from this chapter is one of the most profound in the entire book, at least from the perspective of a childless spinster with multiple graduate degrees. It reads: "Most parents would agree that parenthood has opened up an otherwise inaccessible capacity for joy in their lives... No one wants to feel that they have made an irreversible life choice proved empirically to be a one-way ticket to misery. These studies laugh in the face of the eternal social bargain between parents and nonparents: they get freedom, we get joy. They get cocktails, we get meaning. Without the coziness of that emotional certainty, parenthood becomes just guilt and feces."
The chapter on happiness and religiousness centers on the author's time spent with a Mormon family, often cited in studies as the single happiest group in America, in the happiest city in America, Salt Lake City, Utah. It is very shortly clear, however, that not all that glitters is gold, and that LDS adherents face many of the same problems as everyone else, including self-doubt as to their life choices and frequently depression, despite the overwhelming community support they often enjoy that is lacking in other places. Again, I think the lesson is that happiness is such a highly individualized concept that it differs for each person, but "forced happiness," or the demand for outward expression of happiness and contentment is almost ever-present, whether it's at work, at church, or on social media, the subject of the next chapter.
In the same vein, the author explores the outward projection of happiness that Facebook and similar platforms have provided for people, who seemingly also hide behind a veil of happiness and contentment, concealing any unpleasantries behind the idealized photos they frequently post. Her own experiences also highlight the dark side of social media, that is, the tendency to foster an almost addictive desire for validation in the form of likes and comments on postings, which leads to ever greater unhappiness and stress when such feedback is perceived to be lacking. This is a dramatically under-acknowledged source of unhappiness in the modern world, in my opinion, which is why I personally eschew daily social media usage. I think it's most effective when it's used as a kind of an electronic journal that is intended to enhance your life, perhaps affording an opportunity to reflect on the things that you did or thought at a certain time in one's life rather than an outward display of a faux persona intended to impress people.
In sum, this was a very worthwhile book, with many moments of insight and introspection. I don't know if it will actually serve to enhance happiness on a broad scale, but it certainly provides readers with the opportunity to think about their own definition of happiness in a meaningful way.
