Happiness is more than the absence of pain*; it is a radical shift from one state into another. It’s a move from darkness into light. It’s a smell like lavender or a freshly baked pie. It’s the feel of a new dress or the wag of Rileydog’s tail… anything that jolts introspection and forces you up and out.
When I want to feel happy I try to change my context — move into a ray of sunlight, thrust through the air on a swing until my toes reach clouds, read a book in a bubble bath, saucily swing dance with Sneakered Prince, or go to the lake and think of a place I’d rather be.
If all else fails, I reach for a stack of children’s books and let them take me to that realm of lighter spirits. A good picture book makes you laugh and think and smile. They give you good impulses: to chase invisible dragons, laugh at your own bad jokes, paint autumn leaves pretty pink, wear cowboy boots and flamingo lipstick to the supermarket, or treat a pebble beach like a jewelry store and select faux diamonds and pearls for your moonstone tiara.
Sometimes being true to yourself means looking a little eccentric to the outside world. To do this you need a very supportive crcle of imaginary friends. Eloise is one of mine.
Everyone talks about finding your inner child, but what a new-age hocus-pocus image that summons up. Better to excavate the naughtier incarnation of the inner brat. Eloise is the best brat of all because she has tangled hair, a potbelly, and a bad-girl attitude that makes a mockery of adult ways and leads us back to the sandbox where snobby airs are shed and the most important of all Very Important People is a pet turtle.
Eloise is dead sophisticated. She raises pigeons in the bathroom in the bathroom of her suite at the Plaza Hotel, wears a necklae made of champagne corks, orders one raisin and seven spoons from room service, gets her sneakers cleaned and pressed, and reads the Herald Tribune.
Despite the fact that Eloise dines at Maxim’s and has had a dress designed for her by Christian Dior (sans tassels), she’s no snob. She knows how to make a pair of skis out of two loaves of French bread and order up a whiskey for her nanny. The best thing about Eloise is that she is an uptown girl with bad hair. Her witticims sum up a life of casual swagger and a flagrant disregard for the ordinary:
ELOISEISMS
“You have to eat oatmeal or you’ll dry up. Anybody knows that.”
“Getting bored is not allowed.”
“Paper cups are very good for talking to Mars.”
“I always travel incognito.”
Come back tomorrow and I’ll tell you about another friend of mine, The Little Prince.
*Plato
