The Handbook for Bad Days Read online

  Those who continue to pursue a spiritual path will, at some point, be taught that everything you think is an illusion, a construction of experiences and feelings and thoughts that you have come to believe in. A metaphor for this construction is that of the movie, the projector, and the light. The movie is the narrative, in which you are playing a role. As spectators, we’re sitting on the red velvet, completely absorbed by the screenplay on the big silver screen. So realistic! So compelling!

  The moment you are able to detach yourself from the screen, you realize that the movie is a projection. Among other things, meditation is a way to become aware of this: The movie you see is a projection of the film containing your own experiences, patterns, desires, and fears.

  But what about the self? The ego is neither the screen nor the film strip; it isn’t even the projector. The self is the bright light shining through the projector. A beautiful metaphor: Your true self is the source of everything. You could also call the self by other names—“light” or “love.” Others call it “consciousness,” “the true self,” or “your frequency.” On bad days, the light of that true “self” still shines just as bright; you’re just watching a more mediocre movie, nothing more. This image puts things in perspective, doesn’t it?

  Now, let’s talk about Beyoncé. Or, actually, about Sasha Fierce. Sasha has been Bey’s stage alter ego for many years. In 2008, she released a double album; one disc was titled I Am and mainly contained ballads; the other was titled Sasha Fierce. That disc contained her power songs, including the super famous “Single Ladies.” The message was that there’s a confident, sensual, and radiant Beyoncé and a calm, soft Beyoncé, and both sides got their moment to shine.

  Sasha Fierce was the character that Beyoncé used when performing onstage: that side gave her energy, a role to fully inhabit, in all its glitter and glamour. At the same time, Beyoncé wanted to make mature, intimate music that was not just powerful but vulnerable. She wanted both. And why not? I remember that when that album came out, I thought the whole idea was brilliant: Don’t see your apparent contradictions as undesirable, unclear, or confusing. Acknowledge them and play with them. Knowing and showing yourself completely—that seems to me to be one of the greatest gifts you can give yourself.

  Knowing who you are makes things easier. Not knowing who you are makes things more complicated. It’s that simple.

  That unshakable “I am who I am” is no longer an armor, but something you can let go, allow to flow freely, a concept you can work with. In some respect, we are cut diamonds; which facet lights up depends on how the light hits us. In the summer of 2018, couple and family therapist Esther Perel was a guest on Zomergasten, a renowned long-form interview show on Dutch public television. One of her statements was, “Sometimes you need many people to get to know one person.” She meant that we invariably show different aspects of the same self in different situations. That’s who we are. We are all double albums. At least.

  Do you know all your various selves? When I first got a position as editorial director, I was very young. I took part in intensive leadership training in which we were asked to map our “selves.” One of the exercises was to portray as many sides of yourself as possible on a large sheet containing empty ovals. To get started, I dutifully began to draw: daughter, girlfriend, journalist, editorial director, et cetera. I made quite some strides. But after that, I kept drawing. It’s such a simple exercise, but at the same time such an enlightening one. Among other versions, I drew my restless self, and the prankster, the consoler, the catty me, the ambitious me, the connector, the lazy-body, the listener, the introvert, the calm me, the extrovert, the daydreamer, the mule, the melancholic, the flirt, the hippie, the realist, the ponderer, the romantic.

  Sound familiar? Sometimes you want to dance, sometimes you want to lounge on the sofa. Sometimes you are swearing and cursing, sometimes you keep it bottled up. Sometimes you sport red lipstick, sometimes you prefer not to stand out. Sometimes you are Sasha, sometimes you are Beyoncé. You contain multitudes.

  Feel free to play with your identity, and don’t let others restrict you. Make a list for yourself. You don’t need to share that list with anyone; it’s meant just for you. It helps you see which self will step up in which situation. It will also help you to consider whether you actually need that particular self in a certain moment.

  Remember this: Each of your sides, the beautiful ones and their less flattering peers, ultimately derive from the same source. Your grumpy, catty, and unreasonable selves belong just as much as your more attractive selves. Not infrequently, their intentions are good. They just want to protect you from disappointment or pain, even if they do so clumsily or even unconsciously. If you are aware of all your selves, it becomes easier to take a step back, allowing another self to step forward. It can make a world of difference, especially on lesser days. “Ah, there is my melodramatic self. Maybe she should make way for my optimistic self.” You carry them all inside you. To quote Thich Nhat Hanh: “You recognize it, you smile at it, and you invite something kinder to come forward and take its place.”

  Being true to yourself is not the same as being unchangeable. Being true to yourself is seeing yourself as one instrument, with many sounds.

  And sometimes you have to shut up the cacophony of your selves, to silence the instrument. Deep inside, you often know exactly—without roles or masks—what you need.

  // Laugh about It

   Humor as a coping mechanism

  In the early spring of 2018, despite informal care and support, my mother was no longer able to live at home and was permanently admitted to a nursing home for people with early-onset dementia, where she now lives. In the days leading up to the move, my brothers and I were busy making her room as comfortable as possible. With my brother Matthijs, I drove to Ikea for the final purchases. Normally, we would have a lot of fun in such a place—trying out the beds, racing carts through the warehouse—but when you are picking out pillows for your sick mother for a house that is not her home, Ikea suddenly becomes a strange environment. We went to the checkout and paid.

  Dementia is an ugly disease. It makes you forget who and where you are. As we packed our purchases, my brother tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to a text that was glued to the wall in large block letters. “Everyone forgets something sometime,” it said, hanging over the screws and bolts. “Everyone forgets something sometime…” A comforting message from Ikea. It made us laugh so hard.

  I don’t know anything better than humor as a ready-made way to breathe some air into situations that feel heavy and solid. Quite literally! Laughing causes you to take a deep breath. Laughter isn’t to everyone’s taste: I can remember situations in which my chuckle might have been a little off the mark, but I simply couldn’t help myself. No matter how heavy, how sad or desperate the moment, sooner or later there’ll be a joke ripe for the making. Make it. It puts things in perspective.

  Your body is happy with laughter. When you laugh, the number of antibodies in your saliva increases, your muscles relax, your blood pressure drops, you produce endorphins that work as an analgesic. All very welcome on bad days. Even when you just grimace, like putting on a faux smile for an ill-fated selfie attempt, it’s almost impossible to have negative thoughts. Fake laughter has almost the same effect on your body as real laughter. You can even do laughter workouts that teach you to experience the biological benefits of pleasure. What works even better than intentional exercises to experience the therapeutic effect of the smile is, of course, real laughter, so crack some jokes.

  For some, serious spiritual exercise and humor don’t mix well. The prevailing theory seems to be that you need a deadly serious look on your face when you’re meditating and are tuned in to divine frequencies. Perhaps we believe that a serious face yields serious insights? However, if you ignore that there are also things that you should not take too gravely, you aren’t living inclusively. Your own thoughts, for instance. Self-mockery is a form of ego-lessness and p
utting yourself in perspective. In Eastern religions, humor is generally more appreciated; both on the meditation mat and in teaching, laughter is seen as a perfect way to get out of the mind and into the moment. There are many Buddhist jokes, riddles, and parables that make fun of the ego.

  The moment you start taking yourself too seriously, you are missing the ability to really connect. If you ask me, the ability to observe yourself from the outside is essential for personal growth. Humor pushes you out of your personal territory and invites you to try a different perspective. At spiritual teachings or yoga classes in which the rooms are filled with rolling laughter, you can almost feel the energy in the space opening up and relaxation setting in. There is a time for silence and attention, just as there’s a time for liberation and expression. In modern spirituality, when reactions to humor can be touchy in general, it’s important to remember its power. Breathing some lightness into everyday life is anything but frivolous; it is a highway to light and air. A heartfelt smile is very honest.

  Taking everything seriously actually is an ego thing, because it ignores the fact that we create our own reality. Life can be seen as one big cosmic joke. To quote the poet Robert Frost: “Forgive, o Lord, my little jokes on Thee, and I will forgive Thy great big one on me.”

  According to American psychologist Harvey Mindess, you can see humor like this: It pokes fun at all those layers around our soul with which we identify ourselves, such as status, appearances, and possessions. It peels off all those layers and brings us into contact with what remains: the soul. Learning to laugh at life and at yourself is a great way to get rid of all that is rigid and troublesome. And the ego actually benefits from a little contradiction. The ability to see the humor in something can lead you, in a direct and immediate way, to new insights, an unexpected solution, or a new conversation.

  // There’s Nothing Wrong with Saying “Yes, But…”

   Some “Yes, buts” are soulguards

  A good friend once told me about one of his favorite Star Wars scenes. In The Empire Strikes Back, Yoda tells Luke Skywalker to lift a spaceship out of a swampy lake, but he complains that it’s very heavy. The job, he says, is of a different caliber than moving a stone. To which Yoda says, “No. No different. Only different in your mind. You must unlearn what you have learned.”

  Luke replies: “Oh, all right, I’ll give it a try.” Yoda counters, “No. Try not. Do or do not. There is no try.”

  No “Yes, buts” for Luke. Yes or no, with nothing in between. I found the scene rather odd. Black-and-white thinking is quite common in modern life. Expressing doubt isn’t sexy. You know what you want, right? If you aren’t sure, it’s definitely not going to work! But actually, it’s weird, this idea that you aren’t allowed to have any objections to your own or other people’s thoughts. If your “yes, but” stems from fear of failure, then sure, Yoda might be a little right. “Yes, buts” that arise from fear are standing between life and you.

  You probably know this feeling: You want to pass someone, and they jokingly step in front of you to block your way. If you then take a step to the right, the other person also steps to the right. This is a game that quickly gets annoying. “Yes, buts” can be similar: They put up roadblocks that prevent you from moving on. “Yes, but I can’t do this” and “Yes, but it’s not the right time” put a brake on your creativity, your space, and your growth.

  But to dismiss all “yes, buts” as signs of weakness would be a shame. “Yes, buts” are also mirrors: You can see yourself crystal clear in them. There are “yes, buts” you can use as a shield, off which everything ricochets—“yes, but you,” “yes, but life.” There are also useful “yes, buts”—those that remind you of the steps you’ve forgotten along the way, warning you of naivety, drowsiness, or just carelessness. “Yes, but maybe this is not what I need right now.” “Yes, but you are now making me do your emotional labor.” There are plenty of very sympathetic “yes, buts” that do not intend to block your way at all, but rather prevent you from falling into a trap. These “yes, buts” are like bodyguards, soulguards. A well-intentioned “yes, but” on a bad day isn’t necessarily a cop-out. So by all means, go for it: “yes, but” away.

  // Gratitude Feels Good

  What millennial pink is to Instagram and a flat white is to a hipper-than-thou coffee shop, gratitude is to a lighter, more present life, which is to say it’s ubiquitous. The sun rising, a fresh cup of tea—you can take it all for granted, but you can also choose to be thankful for it. Considering what you have received makes you feel good, or at least makes you feel slightly better on a bad day. No matter how cranky you are, no matter how dreadful the days, there is always something to think of. The simple fact that you have hot and cold running water. That spring will always return, whether you like it or not. That there is such a thing as Carpool Karaoke. It doesn’t have to be something epic like Love or Life. Even seeing a unicorn on a mug, finding a feather, or spontaneously catching the moment that 12:34 p.m. lights up on your phone can be cause for one nanosecond of positivity, a spark of “Hey, that’s kinda nice, or funny, or lovely” in even the grumpiest of minds.

  What’s striking is that, these days, gratitude seems to have caught on. Even the most down-to-earth, pragmatic humans seem to see the benefits of gratitude as a tool for a lighter life; they write books about it and apply it to less obvious settings, such as boardrooms. Maybe it’s partly because “gratitude” sounds soft, but it’s anything but; there is hard scientific evidence that a grateful attitude to life is a good idea. People who pay attention to what goes on in their lives and reflect on what they find valuable earn reward points toward many interesting things: a stronger immune system, the experience of more positive feelings, more confidence, meaning, energy, and a better sleep cycle, just to name a few.

  If you have taught yourself to keep track of what you are grateful for, this lesson will augment your everyday experiences. Things become less obvious or less random. Not only is gratitude suitable for days when everything goes well (it keeps your focus on what matters), but even if you think there is little to be thankful for, you will discover that there is always a bright spot, if you look closely.

  The term “gratitude” has suffered a bit from how we dealt with it in previous eras. Whole generations have grown up with obligatory gratitude. Because they hadn’t lived through World War II. Because God demanded it. Because there are starving children in Africa.

  Another question arises: Who exactly should we thank? That’s up to you, but if you don’t experience God or another higher power, you can still be thankful that you receive anything at all from life itself. Here on earth, we are totally dependent on nature and on each other, from the plants that provide us with oxygen to the water that makes life possible to our mothers who carried us. “Life is a game of give-and-take,” as you’ve probably heard someone say in a lecture. There’s a lot of truth in that, because we give and receive—from God, the universe, or providence.

  Gratitude is a nice feeling. I love it when it just happens to be there. I call it a “radiant heart,” that swelling, warm feeling in my chest that can overwhelm me. It can also be a lump in my throat or an almost imperceptible skipped heartbeat. Grateful moments are like fireflies: They are particularly magical in the darkness.

  Starting a Gratitude Journal When Things Feel Shitty

  Don’t overthink that perfect first sentence in your pristine, gold-imprinted notebook of handmade paper. Just put your pen to paper. Break the blank. And if those perfect, virgin pages deter you from writing, just grab a sticky note or scribble on the back of a used envelope.

  There is no jury looking over your shoulder. Do not dutifully record what you think you should be grateful for. Write down what you actually feel grateful for. No judgment. Focus on what brings you a radiant heart and not on what is socially acceptable or spiritually desirable. Sometimes you may feel gratitude for a beautiful sunset or a great yoga class, but sometimes you may really be more grateful tha
t you found some forgotten candy under the seat of your car.

  Don’t just focus on things. It is obvious to first look at what you have in a material sense: a gift received, a bed, a house. But you can also think, for example, of experiences, of opportunities that came along, or of something sensory, such as a smell, a sound, or a taste. Last but not least, consider the people around you. What happens between them and you can also be of value: advice, a tip, an insight, a good joke.

  Don’t just note the “what,” but also the “why.” Why are you thankful for it?

  Be grateful for what flows in from the outside and what comes to you, but also for what flows out of you: You can be grateful for what you were able to contribute, create, or achieve.

  You can apply a kind of abs workout schedule to gratitude: first three gratitude crunches a day, then five, then ten. Practice, and build it up. Quality over quantity: Can you really only think of one thing? Then that’s good enough for that moment.

  Your journal doesn’t necessarily have to be writing. Include pictures, concert tickets, drawings; even just dashes for every time you feel gratitude can suffice as well. Moments can be captured in many ways.

  Choose a fixed time for your experiment. If you do, it’s more likely to become a routine. Bedtime is often a favorite moment, sort of like backing up the day’s body, mind, and soul data.

  // Long Live Boredom

   Feeling bored doesn’t have to be so bad

  As a child, I spent endless hours lying down and listening to the large clock in our living room. You could literally hear time passing. I knew how to enjoy myself, but I could also be bored out of my mind. I remember watching the shadows on the wall, the grain of our wooden coffee table, and the homey smell of the fabric upholstery of our sofa. I’d listen to the sounds from in and around the house: the rustling of a newspaper, the noise of clattering skateboards belonging to my brother and his friends on the street out front.