Wellness Wednesdays with Diana: Your Weekly Dose of Happiness, Nutrition and Fitness Tips
The “Take My Word For It” Exercise
I thought this title would scare less people off than my working title: “The Obituary.” But now that you’ve made it this far, you might as well hear me out. This week’s Wellness Wednesday exercise is a little out there. But that’s why you have to just take my word for it.
Esteemed Penn professor and founder of positive psychology Martin Seligman has been studying happiness for more than ten years. He developed what he calls the PERMA model of happiness, with each letter in the acronym representing an element that is essential to long-term well-being. The “M” is the protagonist of today’s exercise; it stands for meaning. Seligman proposed that individuals possessing a strong sense of meaning in their lives reported experiencing enduring happiness.
Finding meaning, however, is not a 10-minute ritual of writing down three good things. It’s also not as simple as analyzing the components of a good day. It’s supposed to be challenging and arduous and painfully introspective. But here’s how you can start: write your own obituary.
And so I did. I took the risk of inconveniencing myself with the uncomfortable realization that I will die someday. Once I got past the initial morbidity of the task, I saw its value. Writing about your legacy, according to late psychologist Christopher Peterson, forces you to think about how you would like to be remembered by those closest to you. It helps you identify the accomplishments and personal strengths that matter most to you.
This exercise forces you to step back and evaluate how your present self is working towards becoming the person you aspire to be. Do you want your obituary to say that you’re a loving daughter? Call your mother. Does it say that you were a world-traveler? Do your research and find a way to hop on the next available flight.
But don’t forget to also think about what your obituary does not say. You might be stressing out over an aspect of your life that wouldn’t even make the first or second draft of your obituary. Last Thursday, I gave myself a hard time for underperforming on my PPE midterm. But reading over my obituary right now, I don’t see anything along the lines of “Diana was the bearer of an impeccable transcript.” So I got over it.
I want my obituary to say that I gave every endeavor my best try. I want it to say that I thought and felt and loved with every fiber of my being. I want it to say that despite the hurdles in my path, I always found salvation in writing. I want it to say that I was the first person my friends would list as a hospital emergency contact.
It may be the story of every extravert’s life, but this exercise brought to my attention the realization that my “M” comes from my social interactions. I personally derive meaning from the idea that I am adding value to another human being’s life.
What’s your legacy? And what are you doing every day to work towards becoming the best version of yourself? To quote Peterson, I’ve realized that “hopes and dreams have a way of not coming true unless we do something to make them happen.”
Wherever Diana went, she went with all her heart. That’s how I’d like to be remembered.
Diana Gonimah is a senior at the University of Pennsylvania from Cairo, Egypt. She is a writer, Features Editor, and Recruiting Chair at the UPenn chapter of Her Campus. She’s passionate about psychology, journalism, creative writing, and helping people in any capacity. Check our website every Wednesday for Diana’s column!