Geography of Bliss: I want to now go to Iceland

Geography of Bliss

Eric Weiner

(Thanks, Jill)

I have to admit, this book came as a big disappointment to me. Hailing as a top recommendation by a good friend/ a good travelogue per a quick glance, I was very excited when it found its way into my hands via a second hand book shop in Darwin. I was convinced it was the best way to help me pass the time waiting on my plane to leave...and it was, for the fact that I focused on why I wasn't in love with the book.

While it was interesting and certainly covered several countries': The Netherlands, Switzerland, Bhutan, Qatar, Iceland, Moldova, Thailand, Great Britain, India, and America, varied cultures of collective happiness, in the end, I just couldn't get past the authors grumpy attitude. Interestingly, he is a self-confessed grump, someone who has struggled with negativity and pessimistic perfusions his whole life. Why then, I wondered, is he the leading expert on happiness?? oxymoron; fail.

I did learn, however, that the Dutch are happiest because of their tolerance (not that their legal drugs, prostitution and avid cycling don't hurt!); the Swiss are happiest because of their contentment; the Qataris are falsely happy due to the excessive-make-you-sick materialism that comprises all of their country; the Thais are happiest because they are laid back; the Icelanders have no right to be happy but overwhelmingly are...

"...And then there is Iceland: a country that has no right to be happy yet is. Iceland gets the balance right. A small country but a cosmopolatin one. Dark and light. Efficient and laid-back, American gumption married to European social responsibility. A perfect, happy arrangement. The glue that holds the entire enterprise together is culture. It makes all the difference." P. 406

Unsurprisingly, the author ultimately finds that people make the difference. As I like to say: "It's not where you are, it's who you're with."

"Of all the places I visited, of all the people I met, one keeps coming back to me again and again: Karma Ura, the Bhutanese scholar and cancer survivor. "There is no such thing as personal happiness," he told me. "Happiness is one hundred percent relational." At the time, I didn't take him literally. I thought he was exaggerating to make his point: that our relationships with other people are more important than we think.
But now I realize Karma meant exactly what he said. Our happiness is completely and utterly intertwined with other people: family and friends and neighbors and the woman you hardly notice who cleans your office. Happiness is not a noun or verb. It's a conjunction. Connective tissue." p. 408 

Another thing I learned was the recent phenomenon, in the scheme of human history, of our ability to choose where we live. Over the centuries, most people grew where they were planted. It took some catastrophe -- flood or famine or the marauding hordes of Mongols who moved in next door -- to prompt a relocation. With the exception of the very rich people, people didn't move for kicks. Adventure, in the good sense of the word, is a modern concept. For most of history, adventure was something inflicted upon you, not something you sought out and certainly not something you paid for. p. 394

This, of course, spoke directly to me: someone who has not lived longer than 2 years in any one place for the past 13 years. I move alot -- for alot of different reasons. There are ginormous positives to these decisions, but also ginormous negatives (that I'm only just recently seeing and truly understanding). This about sums up how I feel: ...

"It is home 'for now', she says, And that, I realize, is the problem with hedonistic floaters like [girl] and with many of us Americans and our perpetual pursuit of happiness. We may be fairly happy now, but there's always tomorrow and the prospect of a happier place, a happier life. So all options are left on the table. We never fully commit. That is, I think, a dangerous thing. We can't love a place, or a person, if we always have one foot out the door." p. 400

And that, my friends, is the truth I've learned the hard way. 'One foot out the door' has given me an incredible myriad of adventures, people, places and lessons, yet left me with no home. I struggle with this, wrestle with this and am motivated by this --- but am somehow, despite it all, still deeply and thoroughly happy. I guess in the end, I am who I am because of my backpack.