Happiness lessons from the world of social entreprise.
Having spent the best part of a year working in the Hub Islington; a fabulous work space for micro social enterprises & other do-gooders, I came to notice a strange phenomenon. By most professional standards the wages these guys bring in are small indeed, yet somehow their job - and life - satisfaction is much higher than your typical work environment.
Take the number of voiced complaints per minute as a good anecdotal indicator of how happy a workplace is. Be it a "damn, stupid computer," a subtle 'tut' at a colleague as they walk away, or a colleagiate grumble about how slow the morning's going; complaints form the background mumble of most offices.
Yet at the Hub, the atmosphere is different. It's 4 degrees outside (and therefore the same inside), the recycled wood chip heater's just packed in and now it's started raining onto someone's computer. Yet, still there's no sign of cynicism or complaint, just an "oops!" and the sound of a social entrepreneur scuttling to get a bowl to catch the drip.
According to our chosen economic model, there's something seriously wrong here. Money = happiness, right? Or if that doesn't convince you, then surely money = stuff = happiness will tempt you? (Don't you want that new Ikea sofa?) According to Coca-Cola, MacDonalds and, let's face it, even producers of fair trade products, shouldn't it be those with lower wages who are grumpy and those who can afford more 'stuff' who are cheerful and happy? Under this model, how can it be that those with less money and less 'stuff' appear happier?
"Alright, they might be happy-but-empoverished idealists for now," a typical career sort might argue, "but look a few years down the line when our high earners have paid off their mortgages, got their new car and have luxury holidays every year, and then you'll see who's happy." Still the idealists, I'm afraid to say, if research emerging over the past 10 years is to be believed. We know from various studies that people that people who are more materially orientated have lower levels of life satisfaction (see, for example, this study on business students, materialism & wellbeing). We also know that once your personal wealth (the value of your personal assets) has reached of $12k, an increase in wealth no longer affects your happiness.
So if it's not money, what is making our social entrepreneurs so happy with life? Here are my ideas;
1) The choice to forget about consumption
There are a lot of eco-aware sorts in the social enterprise scene, who have made the choice that they want to consume less for the sake of the environment. This doesn't just mean buying organic, but also buying second-hand clothing, or even swapping it. By not playing the consumption game, they're not stuck in the use-more, want-more, work-more, buy-more cycle (see http://www.storyofstuff.com for a wonderful, lighthearted video on this)
2) The choice of a higher purpose
It comes down to simple maths. I = 1. You = lots more than 1. If you focus your efforts at work on a higher purpose you see that there are many people who suffer more than yourself, many people who need help. In devoting yourself to a cause you'll naturally fail to see the minor agitations you face on the way - they're just not worth complaining about.
3) The choice of community
The Hub provides London a haven of much needed community. People sit & work together, collaborate on projects, often for free and even (cover your eyes if you're a Pret lunch fan) cook and eat together. We know instinctively that we're happiest when we're in a social environment, yet due to Hofstede's famous cross-cultural studies we have known for decades that as GDP rises, we become more focused on ourselves. At The Hub people chose togetherness rather than isolation.The crucial point here is that these individuals chose their consumption patterns, their purpose and their community. These are choices we all make, every day.
Is it as simple as a choice between wealth and happiness? I'd love to hear your thoughts...
When my good friend Karin Lange suggested a week day romp to Somerset House for ice-skating, my first reaction wasn't great.
"Nah-ah," I told myself, "that's ridiculous. You can't ice-skate, you should be doing proper work during the day and you'll only end up breaking something." I tried everything to convince myself. "It's not even a proper walking surface is it? It's just like trying to walk on lit barbecues- why would you do it?!" Of the (arguably) two natural fears we're born with, fear of falling is 50% and this seemed like sufficient evidence to prove to me that my fear was justified. "Don't go."
My second reaction was a little more positive, however, as I reminded myself how I love different experiences, especially when they involve facing a fear. So as I stepped tentatively onto what can only be described as very smooth, very slippery ice, I tried to learn something.
My first few minutes confirmed that I indeed didn't have the magical ice-skating gene hidden in me. I spent most of that time clinging to the side rail without being able to move. When I did manage to face the direction of the skating traffic, I felt like an elephant trying to cross a ropebridge. Meanwhilst people half my size where already whizzing past with grace and confidence. This, I realised, was part of my fear. I wasn't so much afraid of breaking a bone (because that bad things don't happen to me tendency kicked in and refused to let me believe it), but I what I was afraid of was not being all that good.
As someone who's been a bit of a swat for most of her life, I'm one of those lucky people who are used to picking up intellectual concepts as fast as anyone. I'm used to being at the front of the pack without much effort. But when it comes to physical activities, I realised that I share a common Western adult disease of being far too much in my head and not nearly enough in my body.
It wasn't comfortable to bend my needs to get more balance - I didn't like the insecure feeling when you lose balance and wobble backwards and grab madly for the nearest barrier (or child) for support. I didn't want to do my apprenticeship, I wanted to skate NOW. Or not at all. Karin reminded me it was like so many people's reaction to personal development work - many of us in the field have seen (or been!) that person who, say, meditates for 30 seconds and then give up, proclaiming it doesn't work. If we have a lifetime of bad habits built up, it's going to take more than a few seconds to destroy them.
So, after many minutes of patient Karin wheeling me around the ice rink and giving me encouraging words, I gradually, progressed from inept and scared to 1 metre away from the barrier and calm. And what helped? Actually it was distracting myself as much as possible from our subject matter. In talking about something completely different as we went round, Karin and I practiced a very smart technique of just being rather than analysing; letting our bodies do the work for once whilst our minds were distracted elsewhere.
And it's true elsewhere in our lives. How many things do we restrict ourselves from doing because we have over-active brains? How many times have you convinced yourself not to talk to that stranger because... or not to pick up the phone and ask for that because, well, you know the sorts of excuses we all make up.
If we just let our bodies guide us more, perhaps they'd guide us into situations that make us feel more alive, more capable. After all, my theory is that bones aren't generally broken on skating rinks because of stupidity. Generally the more tense we are, the more dangerous a fall is (see how kids bounce?). And if it's tension that's dangerous, it's thinking too much that creates the tension.
So it's less think, more 'do'.
Back in 1988, the success rate of New Year’s resolutions didn’t look good. 22% failed in their commitments after just a week, 40% after a month, 50% after three months, 60% after six months, and 81% after twenty-four months (see this article for more research on the subject). Twenty years on, with promises and information flying about all over the place, those numbers seem optimistic to me.
According to psychologists, 90% of our behaviours are based on habits, so it’s no surprise that it’s difficult to change one thing about yourself in isolation. This is where the “Quit smoking,” “Lose weight,” “Change career” and so on resolutions fall down.
My method for kicking off your New Year is about gently, but firmly showing yourself the person you want to be a year from now, and setting yourself a structure for getting there. Read on to find out how;
1) Set yourself up
Get a blank sheet of paper, a pen, a comfy seat and a mug of something warm. Write “2009” in big bold letters on one side. Feel free to indulge yourself with a few squiggles or swirls by way of embellishment.
2) Look back
Now fill that side with everything positive you achieved in 2009, from all aspects of your life. Work, your relationships, leisure, spirituality, your home, person brainpower… Think about the big and the small; the short-term goals and the long-term personal changes that you’ve made happen. Think about the things you’ve kept going successfully. What do people around you appreciate about you if they’re really honest? Be generous to yourself and don’t let any snide critical thoughts find their way onto the page. This page is for celebration.
Have a good long look at your 2009 and see how it makes you feel. Stop and appreciate your journey. (The mug of something warm is useful here)
3) Look forward
Now turn over the sheet of paper and think forward to January 2011. Given the distance you’ve come in 2009, what can you set yourself up for in 2010? I like to start with who I want to become.
Close your eyes and picture yourself a year from now if you progress exactly how you want to. Don’t think of things that you want just yet (ignore the new job, 3 stone weight loss and new sports car), but think of who you want to be. How do you want to feel? How do you want to behave to those around you? How do you want to live your life? Right down some positive statements about this you in the present tense “It’s January 2011 and I am…” as this creates the most powerful connection to your intention and helps your vision to become a reality. These are your personal development goals and will guide you on your journey to a fulfilling year.
Now that you have your characteristics covered, you probably have some key areas of your life where you’d like to ensure growth and happiness. This year my focus is on my relationship and my company and the bits in between are covered by my personal development goals. Again, take a moment to see where you’d like to be in a year’s time. Let yourself sink into the vision, but be practical- if you dream up a lottery win and a handsome new man entering your life on a flying unicorn as your aims for the year, you may be disappointed! You can make your vision as broad, or narrow as you like. I combined business targets with more general intentions. Again, write these targets in the format “It’s January 2011 and I am / have…”
4) Get going!
Now you’ve finished that, put your year vision somewhere where you can see it. It’s a good idea to frame it and leave it somewhere you often look – I like to leave myself important messages in the bathroom where I spend 2 minutes every morning and night brushing my teeth. Why not spend that time focusing on your aims?
The more often you revisit your aims, the more often you ‘become’ your intended self for January 2011. You’ll find that the mind has a wonderful way of making our intentions reality. But the key is to base your intentions on things you really want, rather than something someone else has told you to do, or what you should be doing. You’re on track if your goals make you feel light and energised.
Of course, some of your goals may fall off on the way, but the important thing is to head to the person you want to become gradually over time.
This is just a nibble of a much bigger set of tools to help you. If you’d like some more information about this technique, or want to investigate a coaching relationship to really help make 2010 a wonderful year, visit www.go-ginger.com, or get in touch with me at biscuits@go-ginger.com.
Happiness lessons from the world of social entreprise.
