Liar, Liar

"You can only talk to him," my mother explained to my nephew before letting him take the cell phone out of her hand to talk to Santa. "He can't talk to you."

"I love christmastime," my sister said, having initiated the santa calling a minute before, suggesting a cutback in presents for the three-year-old boy too busy to eat the $8 grilled cheese sandwich on his plate. He immediately took a big bite. He's been very busy for weeks, circling toys in catalogs.

My mother repeated her rule before my niece--almost seven now, missing two front teeth, perched on legs 12 miles long--took her turn. It surprised me that she fell for it without so much as a how come. Over the summer, a friend of hers--one of those smart alecky kindergarten types-- told her there was no santa, a vicious rumor long since forgotten. All doubt, even ordinary questions, are eclipsed by the bright light of the magic of christmas.

It's not just little children who believe what they want to believe. Adult reality is equally founded on little lies, self-delusions, and sometimes even willful decisions not to give in to facts and evidence. And I'm not just talking about romance. I read somewhere that the happiest people are slightly deluded; they have higher opinions of themselves than a completely objective analysis might bear out. They also tend to believe that things are going to work out for them, regardless of the odds.

It's interesting to think about how many people manage to bring about their imagined reality. Maybe it's the convincing performance, conducted by the convinced, influencing those around them, snowballing the effect. They become what they believe they are.

I've always been one of those unhappy reality-based people. A confident friend of mine states every fact as if issuing an imperial edict. Once she told me that rinsing dishes in cold water makes them shine. To be so certain and so wrong is one of my biggest fears. Yet I know from observing people that being self-assured is more important to success and to attracting people than being right. Thoughts about changing habits and negative attitudes have been dancing in my head since discovering Gretchen Rubin's wonderful blog, The Happiness Project . Of course, the question of whether one can write fiction properly without any snark, gossip, pettiness or other small habits in one's heart tangoes alongside.

Certainly, a writer has to be an honest and not a deluded observer of human nature. But many of these happiness habits, including self-discipline and not letting the perfect be the enemy of the good may, give my writing a big boost. So too may the insights into why I fall back into so many bad habits over and over. I plan to work on procrastination--starting tomorrow (just kidding, I started yesterday). One of the best tips I've read so far was keep starting, if you stop. Don't worry about the fact that you didn't finish, just get back to work.

More later, once I've met my writing goals for the week.