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I'm Sorry by Juan Mann

"I don't believe you love me anymore."

And with those words, it was Minnie's turn to break my heart.

"I don't believe you love me anymore."

And with those words it was Minnie's turn to break my heart. How I wish I couldn't remember.

In 2008 I decided I'd spend the year researching and experimenting with this awesome new field - "The Science of Happiness". In short I was going to spend the whole year working towards hacking my happiness. What I did, was live with complete disregard for the consequences of my actions, the hurt that it'd cause or the hearts that it would break. What I learned had very little to do with happiness, but I did unlock the secret to causing complete misery. Problem is that alot of the time... I had fun. I just happened  to hurt everyone I loved.

In 2009, instead of writing a motivational self help text about hacking happiness, I'm writing this instead. All my apologies.  Because happiness is learning to say "I'm Sorry" and mean it. So I hope my writings speak to you in some way, enjoy...

It was almost 3am local time in San Francisco. I remember the abundance of hotel pillows of every description. Boomerang Pillows, soft feather pillows, hard contoured rubber pillows, pillows the shape of stars, moons and a heart. Pillows so soft after the arduous task of squeezing my oversized human self into the tiny, sardine seats in economy class on the way over - all I wanted, my only waking dream was to wrap myself within the arms of the woman I love and drift blissfully off to sleep. In the morning, We'd wake up and together explore the city we were in as part of our grand new adventure.

My head had just hit the pillow for the first time in days but felt like weeks. We were so far from home,  from everything we knew, from the people we left behind. It was just us. Together. Alone.

In theory - it was to be the happiest moment of my year and a great way to cap off one very, very arduous experiment. It was our first overseas trip together and for sure, the first one that'd been sprung for off the back of my hard hugging efforts. I was chuffed!

Minnie however, was not.

"It feels like... we're together on this team, but every time  the whistle blows and the real games start - you're nowhere. "  She rolls on to her side to face me.

Flat on my back, I stared at the ceiling blankly, hoping that it'd just cave in right here and now and take me away from this horrid empty feeling. I answered with silence.

"It's just... it's been a long year and I can't tell anymore. I know you say the words but... are you just saying them? It's too much for me. I can't remember how it got like this. I can't remember how I ever let myself feel this way."

And here in this hotel room, it was just Minnie and Me. Far from all the troubles. From all the bad news and sadness, the hurt, the heartache and all the things I'd done.

It was in the past, or at the very least on the other side of the planet.

History. I liked to call it. Something to be learned from, but nothing you should hold against someone.

Heartache. Is how Minnie preferred to put it. Something that just hurt, hurt, hurt.

But where did this all go wrong?

--

November 2007 - Bondi Pavillion, Sydney, Australia

I love my job. I'd be lying to you if I said it was horrible. Imagine if you will, waking up every day and heading out into the world, meeting happy people, cheering up sad people, going to places you've never imagined you would see and learning more about the world and life than any book could ever teach you.

Now imagine that you get paid to do all this - and sit at home whenever you feel like it and play video games, hang out with friends or do whatever I please.

Yes. My life was essentially perfect. I was my own boss, I still hadn't fired myself, I had the love of an amazing woman and a life that seemed to be everything I'd ever dreamed for.

I'd just given a speech to a crowd of advertising and marketing afficionados at Interesting South, a creative conference put together by some amazing Australian bloggers. I was attracted to the idea of the conference - that every speaker had just a brief few minutes to talk and that they had to be interesting.

And they were interesting.

From tongue in cheek discussions on rocket surgery and environmental sustainability to a guide to urban activism and a speech from a sex worker who catered entirely to disabled clients, I was enthralled with the diversity of what the world had to offer and coming off the back of a forced seclusion in an effort to finish writing the Illustrated Guide to Free Hugs, I was looking for something new to do.

A next project if you will.

After my short little speech about my futile little experiment of inviting the world to  just drop by and visit me at home anytime, I took a seat on the couch they had for speakers on stage and prepared to listen.

Her name and this will probably be the last time I use anyone's real name in this, her name was Dr. Adrienne Withall and her speech changed my life.

She'd been doing research into this breaking new field of "positive psychology" or what she preferred to call...

"The Science of Happiness"

And I was enthralled. She had a ten step "Happiness Manifesto" that bonafide scientific researchers had proposed could improve your overall level of happiness. She had graphs that showed how people were happy in their youth, miserable once they had children and absolutely chuffed to be alive as soon as the kids left home and they  could think about retiring.

Hell, she even had an exact dollar amount on how much money you'd need to be happy, if you didn't have friends.

Happiness. As a Science?

As something that you can actually get more of, if you work towards it.

Happiness it seems, could be manufactured. Or at the very least, maintained.

The conference over, I grabbed the good Doctor's card and said I'd be in touch - that Hacking Happiness was something I was super interested in.

If there's one thing I've always been accused of, it's that I'll work towards a maximum impact with minimum effort. I was going to hack my happiness, write an instructional guide and make a fortune like all those other self help gurus out there.

Minnie, ever the supporter smiled at the notion when I told her.

Considering we were on the verge of eviction after placing a video on YouTube inviting the world to drop by our house any time they liked, I'm sure Minnie was absolutely excited that this time, I'd be doing something that didn't threaten our survival.

"So babe, get this - I'm going to spend all of 2008 reading, researching and totally hacking my happiness. I'm going to do whatever it takes to find out exactly what it is that makes me happy and I swear - there's research and stuff from scientists to back it up! It's going to make our lives so cool!" So maybe I should have read the research before I settled on the method to my little experiment. Or maybe I could have toned down my enthusiasm.

Or I could have confessed that I failed science in high school and that "experimentation" as far as my parents had made me understand, was what happened when you got drunk at parties and let the good times roll.

Or perhaps I should have taken warning from the very first website I found when I googled "happiness quotes" and stumbled upon this blatant lie from Albert Camus:

"You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life."

What would Camus know? Just because searching for happiness didn't work for him meant absolutely nothing to me. His mistakes were his and not mine. If his pursuit of happiness didn't pan out well then... eat it Camus!

I wasn't going to fail.

I finished writing the Illustrated Guide to Free Hugs on December 24th, 2007. It launched the following day as a free e-book for all and sundry to read and share as they pleased, if they pleased. With that moment, I had more or less accomplished all the goals  and dreams I'd set out to achieve in life - and all before my 26th birthday.

And without really doing all that much hard work anyway.

I should probably learn to set more goals.

Freed from the tyranny of chasing dreams and not really all that enthralled by the prospect of relentless toil in return for a pot of gold I'd never get time to spend - I dived head first into my research by defining what happiness was to me.

And this is my first apology, one that isn't on the list.

Minnie, I'm Sorry I put myself first.

and second, third and fourth.

Every relationship requires work, but when one person in that relationship decides to run off and work on something else most of the time, where does that leave you?

Reading another one of my apologies.

Please forgive me,

I love you,

I'm Sorry.

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If anyone roams across Sydney as much as I do, then one would inevitably find oneself raising that hand, getting into that taxi and dreading that meter going up and up while he takes you to your destination.

But like many others, I've found that some of the best conversations I've ever had were with cabbies.

The last one I met was a Polish engineer who proceeded to explain to me how to pave the outside of my house from scratch, because the "professionals" don't know how to do it properly. He was unimpressed and blatantly questioned why I was studying law while stating that "engineers are respected a lot more in Europe than in the West". Honestly, he seemed far more educated than me.

Before him there was another driver who engaged me in a stimulating conversation about Indian poetry and literature. With another, I had an argument about raising children in different cultures.

The reason for this is one that we've heard almost too often - qualified immigrants come to Australia, their expertise is refused recognition, and they get stuck driving people around the city when their true skills obviously lie elsewhere.

We can't help these guys get a job. But next time you sit in a cab, don't be afraid to have a chat. You never know who you might be talking to.  

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This entire fiasco is an incredible over reaction. Australia is an easy target. Why? because we are honest, transperant and we talk about our failings. Is there aggression and iolence in Australia? Sure, like any country. But we face it head on and we work to eliminate it. What about the stories of the 100’s of thousands of Indian workers who are treated as slaves in the middle east and nobody says anything? What about the fact that India still has entrenched pedophilia in terms of child brides? What about the crushing poverty embraced by more than 60% of the Indian people while this nation runs around building nuclear warheads? A storm in a teacup, an over reaction, and a diversion from some the really bad issues facing India. What is really happening here is that students are being unnecessarily frightened. meaning they will miss out on what could be the opportunity of their lifetime. - Daryl
 
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