Mark: Alright, Michelle. The book is The Happiness Project: Or, Why I Spent a Year Trying to Sing in the Morning, Clean My Closets, Fight Right, Read Aristotle, and Generally Have More Fun. What do you think her next book title is? Michelle: The Procrastination Project: Or, Why I Spent a Year Thinking About Writing a Book About My Happiness Project. Mark: [Laughs] That is painfully accurate for most of us. But today we are diving into the actual, very productive Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin. And what’s fascinating, and what explains so much about this book, is that Rubin isn't your typical self-help guru. She's a Yale Law grad who clerked for Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O’Connor. Michelle: Whoa, okay. So she's bringing a lawyer's mind to the problem of... feeling blah? That's a wild combination. It’s like hiring an engineer to fix a poem. Mark: Exactly. And that's the first big, counterintuitive idea here. She treats happiness not as some mystical feeling to be chased, but as a project to be engineered. She approaches her own life with the same rigor she’d apply to a legal case, and it’s a perspective that completely reframes the pursuit of joy.

Mark: The whole thing kicks off with a very mundane, very relatable moment. She's on a city bus in the rain, looking out the window, and she has this sudden, chilling thought: "The days are long, but the years are short." She has a great life—a husband she loves, two kids, a writing career in New York City—but she’s not as happy as she could be. She feels like she's in danger of wasting her life. Michelle: I think everyone has had that "bus window" moment. You're on autopilot, and suddenly you zoom out and think, "Is this it? Am I appreciating any of this?" It’s a quiet panic. Mark: It is. But what she does next is what’s so unusual. Instead of just feeling angsty or booking a trip to Bali, she decides to launch a formal, year-long "Happiness Project." She goes to the library and checks out stacks of books on happiness—from ancient philosophers to modern psychologists. Michelle: Of course she does. The former law journal editor in chief hits the books. That makes perfect sense now. Mark: And from that research, she creates a framework. First, she drafts her "Twelve Commandments." These are her overarching personal principles, like "Be Gretchen," "Let it go," and "Do what ought to be done." They're her personal constitution for the project. Michelle: Hold on. Commandments? That sounds so rigid. And then what, she grades herself? Mark: She literally does. This is the part that both fascinates and divides people. Inspired by Benjamin Franklin's virtue chart, she creates a "Resolutions Chart"—a spreadsheet where she tracks her progress on specific, monthly resolutions. Every night, she gives herself a check or a black mark. Michelle: Okay, a spreadsheet for happiness. I have to admit, my first reaction is that this sounds incredibly joyless. It feels like turning self-improvement into homework. Doesn't that just kill the very thing you're trying to create? It’s like scheduling spontaneity. Mark: That's the exact criticism many people have. It can seem clinical. But for Rubin, and for many people like her, the structure is what creates freedom. It’s about taking this vague, overwhelming concept—"be happier"—and breaking it down into concrete, manageable actions. It’s a way to stop just worrying about happiness and start doing something about it. Michelle: So the chart isn't about punishing yourself, it's about paying attention. Mark: Precisely. It’s a tool for mindfulness. Take her first month, January. The theme is "Boost Energy." Her resolutions are simple: go to sleep earlier, exercise better, declutter, and tackle nagging tasks. One of her most famous resolutions comes from this: the "One-Minute Rule." Michelle: What's that? Mark: If a task takes less than a minute to complete, do it immediately. Hang up your coat, put a dish in the dishwasher, reply to an email. It sounds trivial, but she argues that the accumulation of these tiny, unfinished tasks creates a constant, low-grade drain on our mental energy. Clearing that "psychic clutter" was a huge source of newfound energy and calm for her. Michelle: I can see how that would work. It's the 20 open tabs in your brain that you're finally closing. It’s not about the coat, it’s about the mental real estate the coat is occupying while it’s on the chair. Mark: Exactly. The external order creates internal calm. So the chart, the commandments—they aren't about achieving perfection. They are a blueprint. They are the architectural plans for building a happier life, one small, deliberate brick at a time. It’s a very systematic way to build a sanctuary for your own mind.

Michelle: Okay, I’m warming up to the blueprint idea. Decluttering, sleeping more... that makes sense. But what about the actual feeling of happiness? You can't just check a box for "Be Joyful." How did she tackle the emotional side of things? Mark: This is where we get to what I think is the most powerful and practical tool in the whole book. It’s her Twelfth Commandment: "Act the way I want to feel." It’s this idea, backed by a lot of psychology, that our actions can shape our emotions, not just the other way around. Michelle: Right, the old "fake it 'til you make it" philosophy. Mark: It’s a bit more nuanced than that. It’s not about being inauthentic. It’s about recognizing that your body and your brain are in a feedback loop. If you want to feel more energetic, start by acting more energetic—walk faster, put more zest in your voice. Your brain will often follow suit. But the most compelling story of this is her "Week of Extreme Nice." Michelle: Oh, I’m intrigued. What did she do? Mark: In February, her month for "Remember Love," she decides to experiment with being extremely nice to her husband, Jamie. She resolves to stop nagging, to not expect praise, and to be incredibly accommodating for one week. Michelle: That sounds... both brilliant and exhausting. I can feel the internal struggle already. Mark: It was! She tells this great story about their tradition of sending Valentine's Day cards. It’s her project, but she asks Jamie to help stuff the envelopes. He’s lounging on the sofa and basically says, "Ugh, do I have to?" Her immediate instinct is resentment and nagging. Michelle: A very familiar instinct. Mark: But she remembers her resolution. She bites her tongue, says "no problem," and does it all herself while they watch a movie. She’s fuming internally for a minute, but then she lets it go. After the movie, Jamie turns to her, gives her a huge hug, and says, "Thanks for doing those, honey. Will you be my Valentine?" He was so appreciative of her not creating a fight. Michelle: Wow. So by acting like a non-nagging, gracious person, she actually got the loving response she wanted in the first place. That is a Jedi mind trick you play on yourself. Mark: It is! And she found that by the end of the week, by consciously performing these acts of love and kindness, she genuinely felt more tender and loving towards him. Her actions changed her feelings. It’s a profound insight: you can’t directly control your emotions, but you can control your actions. And your actions are a powerful lever for changing your emotions. Michelle: That’s a huge shift in perspective. It gives you a sense of agency over your own moods, which can often feel so random and overwhelming. It’s not about waiting for the feeling to strike, it’s about creating the conditions for it. Mark: Exactly. She calls it one of her "Splendid Truths." And it applies to everything. When she felt sluggish, she acted energetic. When she felt critical, she gave positive reviews. It’s a constant, active process of choosing the behavior that leads to the feeling you desire.

Mark: And that idea of actively choosing your behavior leads to the final, and maybe most profound, piece of her project. It's about redefining what success and happiness even mean in the long run. Michelle: How so? Mark: She tackles what psychologists call the "Arrival Fallacy." It's the mistaken belief that when you finally arrive at a certain destination—you get the promotion, you buy the house, you lose the weight—you will be permanently happy. Michelle: Oh, the "I'll be happy when..." trap. I know it well. It’s the great lie we tell ourselves to get through the grind. Mark: It is. And Rubin realizes that true, sustained happiness comes from the process, from the "atmosphere of growth," not from the destination. This realization prompts her to take on a new challenge just for the sake of growth: launching a blog. This was back in 2006, when blogging was still a bit of a wild west. Michelle: And she was a book writer, not a tech person. That must have been intimidating. Mark: Terrifyingly so. She was afraid of the technology, afraid of the public criticism, afraid of failing. But she decided to adopt a new resolution for her work month: "Enjoy the fun of failure." Michelle: Enjoy the fun of failure? That sounds like something you'd tell a toddler after they fall down. What does that even mean for an adult? Mark: It means reframing failure not as an indictment of your worth, but as a byproduct of trying interesting things. To have more success, you have to be willing to have more failure. So she started pitching articles she knew would probably get rejected. She applied to a prestigious writing colony and got turned down. She treated these rejections not as defeats, but as evidence that she was stretching herself. Michelle: That’s a beautiful idea, but this is where the book gets controversial, right? Many readers and critics point out that "enjoying failure" is a luxury. It's a lot easier to say when you're a successful author in Manhattan with a stable family life. How does this resonate with people who literally cannot afford for their projects to fail? Mark: That is the most significant and valid criticism of the book, and it's important to acknowledge. Her project is undeniably filtered through a lens of privilege. A single parent working two jobs doesn't have the time or resources to start a "passion project" blog. Michelle: So is the advice useless for most people? Mark: I don't think so. I think the principle is scalable. For Rubin, failure meant a rejected article. For someone else, it might mean trying a new recipe that doesn't work out, or speaking up in a meeting and having the idea shot down, or trying to learn a new skill on YouTube and feeling clumsy. The point isn't the scale of the failure; it's the willingness to step outside your comfort zone and not be crushed when it doesn't go perfectly. It's about building resilience. Michelle: So it’s about detaching your self-worth from the outcome. The win is in the trying, not the succeeding. Mark: Exactly. And her blog, which she started with so much fear, ended up becoming a massive success and the foundation for her entire career now. It was an engine of happiness for her precisely because it was a challenge, because it brought novelty, and because it connected her with a community. It proved her own point.

Mark: When you put it all together, you see this elegant system. You start with a blueprint—the commandments and the chart—to provide structure and mindfulness. You use small, deliberate actions to steer your emotions, like acting nice to feel more loving. And you focus on growth and the process, not the final destination, by embracing failure as part of the journey. Michelle: It’s a surprisingly pragmatic and almost unsentimental approach to a very sentimental topic. It takes happiness out of the realm of magic and puts it into the realm of practice. Like learning an instrument. You don't just hope to be a great pianist; you practice your scales every day. Mark: That’s a perfect analogy. And she’s not saying it’s easy. She fills the book with her own failures to keep her resolutions. She gets cranky, she eats junk food, she snaps at her husband. The project isn't about becoming a perfect, beatifically happy person. It's about the ongoing effort. Michelle: It really makes you ask yourself: what's one small, concrete thing I could do today—not to be happy, but to act happier? Maybe it's the one-minute rule. Maybe it's sending one appreciative text. Maybe it's just deciding to laugh at something instead of getting annoyed. Perhaps that's the real starting point. Mark: I think that’s the heart of it. It’s not about a massive life overhaul. It’s about the small choices we make in the next ten minutes. We’d love to hear what our listeners think. What’s one small resolution from this that resonates with you? Let us know on our social channels. We genuinely want to see what you come up with. Mark: This is Aibrary, signing off.