This is an excerpt from my upcoming book Dear Charlotte, which tells the winding story of the triumph and folly of forever trying to better yourself. This letter is from the chapter on "The Pursuit of Happiness."
Hi Charlotte. Well, we're nearing the end of our time at Stanford. There's a touch of sadness in me, I think, because the largest chapter of my life—schooling—is coming to an end. Even though the computer lab where I'm writing this is packed with students, it feels empty and alone. There are no seniors here, just freshmen and sophomores intensely working on their finals. There was a lot more camaraderie for us back then, when everybody had to take the same auditorium-sized classes. Now, everybody in our year is off doing their own thing, some of whom have already gone off to New York or L.A., on to their next "Stanford."
I'm generally happy with how my experience has been. But what I find frustrating is that I still have the same problems I had freshman year. I'm still insecure, I still over-analyze the things people say to me, and worst of all, I spend too much time, lying on the floor dissatisfied with my direction in life. And this is not just since freshman year of college. I have had these unsolved problems since freshman year of high school! Why is it that, despite eight years of dedicated attention to self-improvement, I'm still the same person?
But instead of this realization bringing me down, it's given me perspective. I feel like how Edison felt during his struggles to develop the light bulb. As he's often quoted, "I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work." Likewise, I now have this huge sample of failed attempts at self-improvement, and as a result, patterns have become clear to me.
When I survey all the things I'm unhappy about with myself, there is a common element to all of them. I need to relax more. For every hour I have spent thinking about why I can't be happy alone on a Friday night, I could have saved 30 minutes if I was a more relaxed person. Or for every time I have gotten sick, I could have cut my recovery time in half if my immune system had been boosted with relaxation techniques.
So here's my goal. Between now and when we graduate, I'm going to throw all my energy into making myself more relaxed. If I can make this one meaningful improvement—one meaningful, permanent change—to who I am, then I will have accomplished something much more important to me than any diploma or award ceremony.
Here's my plan for what I call the "Relaxation Regime"
- Download a hundred relaxing movies to watch every night before I go to bed.
- Keep a spreadsheet where every day, I rate myself from 1-99 on how relaxed I felt that day.
- Take 10-minute breaks throughout the day, wherein I daydream about pleasant, relaxing thoughts, like lying on the beach.
- Keep a journal, where everyday, I write down one new idea to help me be more relaxed.
I've already been applying this for a couple days, and I can see the new Phil emerging. I haven't written any over-analytical thoughts in my journals. I haven't spent my bike-rides to school vexing over what to do after college. What if I had a whole three months like this? How peaceful and awesome would that be?
You are what you habitually do. So, I just need to forget everything else, and turn these relaxation exercises into a permanent, natural part of my being. If I can just do that, then maybe I won't feel so sad anymore. 1
1 This period was one of the most blissful times of my life. But after I graduated, I did not sustain the Relaxation Regime, and I returned back to my neurotic ways. It was only years later in 2011—when I became a regular meditation practitioner—that I recovered a sense of mental peace.
