Cancer, Golden Retrievers and How I Unlocked The Secret to Happiness
The surprisingly simple truth that no one is telling you.
What would make you happy?
Maybe you want more money. You might want to be famous. Or, you might feel happiest hiding in your neighbour’s closet, watching him watch Gogglebox (which is the Inception of voyeurism).
Well done if you’ve cracked the happiness code, but you’re in the minority. Levels of anger, stress, sadness and worry have reached new global highs.
I forged a strategy to seek happiness in the hospital.
If you want more happiness in your life, my story can help.
I got Leukemia a week before Christmas
Damn, I must have been a shit kid that year. Santa went and dropped a bout of blood cancer in my stocking. I would have preferred coal.
When Christmas day arrived, I was receiving treatment in a ward full of cancer patients. I wasn’t alone. But I was desperately lonely. Everyone was friendly - that wasn’t the problem. Distressingly, I was twenty while everyone else was over sixty, and it quickly became apparent that it’s impossible to pick up someone’s spirits when yours has fallen through the floor.
We were prisoners in that ward, running from a monster we could never outpace or hope to escape without modern medicine. Even then, there were no sure things. So the monsters inside us continued to claw at our bodies and leave a trail of destruction.
It’s not going to shock anyone to say I was down in the dumps, like Shrek when he gets in a fight with Donkey.
As days turned to weeks, a black cloud settled around me and the weather forecast showed it wasn’t going anywhere.
That’s when I met “Him”
He was as golden a Golden Retriever as you’ll ever see. Curiously sniffing his way through the cancer ward, this sunshine canine was energetic, happy and full of life - three qualities that had deserted me.
Refreshingly, his big brown eyes didn’t see me as a sick boy—just a comfortable lap.
Springing onto my chair, his great, furry paws hung lazily over the edge as he contorted his body and planted a big wet kiss on my nose. In the grand scheme of existence, it was nothing. But for the first time in weeks, I smiled.
And I didn’t smile a little bit. I smiled a whole motherf*cking lot.
His joy was infectious (in a good way, unlike the “bad” infectious you want to avoid on a cancer ward). That joy spread from him to me and nestled comfortably somewhere in my soul. Over a few minutes, we laughed and played and had the type of hairy cuddle that only dogs and affectionate werewolves can give.
Then he left to help lift someone else’s spirits.
But my smile stayed.
I left the hospital after 244 days. But I took something with me…
In just five minutes, that dog restored a feeling of happiness that I was worried had been taken from me forever.
That interaction brain-punched me into realising that happiness isn’t a destination. It’s not somewhere you arrive, unpack your suitcase, and spend the rest of your life.
Happiness is a state of mind characterised by joy, contentment, satisfaction and fulfilment.
If I could feel happy while enduring chemo and lying in a hospital bed, then it was a state of being unrelated to external circumstances. I was having an objectively lousy time. Yet I was laughing, smiling and joyful with that saliva-dripping pup on my lap.
By the way, this isn’t just an anecdotal experience. Studies have repeatedly suggested that happiness can be influenced by factors other than genetics and your life situation.
The science of happiness
Sonja Lyubomirsky, psychologist and author of the best-selling books The How of Happiness and The Myths of Happiness, argues that 40% of happiness is determined by intentional activities - the things you choose to do.
That’s why I choose to look for that handsome Golden Retriever everywhere I go. Not the actual pup, but what he represents. As cliche as it sounds, happiness is a choice. It sucks to feel like your life lacks happiness. Trust me, I’ve been there. But it is liberating to realise you have the power to change how you think and feel.
This isn’t preachy self-help, by the way. Far from it. You and I know that life will kick us in the metaphorical balls. You exist without your consent. That’s a recipe for unwanted and unauthorised things to happen, and it ain’t all sunshine and vodka.
The takeaway is that you are not powerless in the face of suffering. I wasn’t powerless when I was curled up in a ball in the hospital, even though I felt alone and drowning in sadness. As it turned out, the best support for happiness was there all along, right inside my head.
Fast forward and I’ve been in remission for 15 years. But my search to find a meaningful sense of happiness hasn’t changed. I’m on a never-ending hunt to find the big, goofy, Golden Retriever - and I encourage you to do the same.
I guarantee you, he’s there, no matter what you’re going through. Sometimes you have to look a little harder to find him.
A final 17 seconds on finding happiness
The next time you’re having one of “those” days, try looking for the Golden Retriever in the room.
Find something little that goes against the current of your terrible, horrible, no-good situation.
A co-worker who makes you cackle.
Landing a seat on a peak-hour bus.
A lingering eye from a single mum stripper on a Tuesday afternoon at the local skeezy bar (if that one resonates with you, invite me next time).
You get the idea.
Those are all your Golden Retriever moments. Alone, they won’t stop a bad day from being bad. But, they can be the circuit breaker to remind you that much of your happiness is in your control.
When you make a conscious choice to exert that control, storm clouds can start lifting because something golden can light up the cloudiest day.
I’ve experienced it, and you can too.
With love,
New World Porter
P.S. If you enjoyed this post, leave a like or comment with the button below (takes 0.46 seconds) so I can think terribly filthy thoughts about you.
In 2021, my wife was diagnosed with chronic myelogenous leukemia. They say that it’s more manageable. She has been taking some meds ever since and her bloodwork is improving. The one thing that has kept us both going, is our firm belief that happiness is a choice. Thank you so much for sharing your story. It was my golden retriever moment today.
This was a little golden retriever moment.