In “Rivers,” Haig notes the prevalence of the word “flow” in today’s vocabulary and culture and raises the question of what it means. He discusses Hermann Hesse’s Siddhartha and the significance of the river in the novel. Not only does the river provide Siddhartha with spiritual inspiration, but it teaches him acceptance by contextualizing his experiences in something much bigger. According to Haig, “Individual events mean nothing by themselves, but are part of a larger totality and can only be understood within the whole” (87-88); understanding this is what Haig means by the “flow of life.” Haig also likens the relationship between the parts and the whole to the individual brushstrokes that form a painting; it is not a single stroke that creates the painting’s aesthetic beauty, but rather the combination of all the strokes. Haig suggests that negative events or moments are minuscule when compared to the whole they help compose and are, in fact, essential to accentuating the happier moments.
In “Dam,” Haig urges readers not to “dam” up pain, secrets, traumas, etc. but rather to “[l]et them flow”—a phrase he repeats three times. Haig includes the following quotation by Heraclitus after this chapter: “No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man” (90).
“Elements of hope” states that everything in the universe is connected—even pleasure and pain. Haig explains that moments of happiness amid his depression took on additional meaning by the contrast. Noting the number of elements that compose the human body, Haig states, “[I]f we could analyze every negative experience we’ve ever had we would find vast quantities of emotions such as fear and despair, and also trace elements of other things. Joy, hope, love, happiness” (92). Haig reasons that even tiny bits of light can provide solace and guidance.
In “Delete the italics,” Haig lists 25 statements that people are likely to think to themselves, such as that they are not good or attractive enough. Haig instead recommends saying, “I am enough” (95).
“Tips for how to make a bad day better” provides suggestions on how to make a bad day better, such as getting up, washing, moving, finding sunlight, spending time in nature, and taking deep breaths. Haig also recommends watching the stars, noting that Marcus Aurelius did just that. All in all, Haig recommends processing the day by observing and acknowledging its difficulties.
In “The most important kind of wealth,” Haig writes about American philosophy graduate student Steven Callahan who survived 76 days lost at sea in 1981. He was sailing on a boat he had designed and built when a whale struck the vessel during a storm. Although the sailboat flooded and started to sink, Callahan stayed afloat using a life raft. He dived down and retrieved some essential supplies, but he still only had food and water for a few days. Callahan was hungry, thirsty, sore, and overheated, and chances for rescue repeatedly slipped through his fingers. Not only was he threatened by sharks but also by his own thoughts; with so much time to think, he regretted his past mistakes. When his contraption to purify his water broke, Callahan knew he would likely die. However, seabirds began hovering above him when he threw leftover fish guts out to sea, catching the attention of a fisherman who rescued Callahan. In Adrift: Seventy-Six Days Lost at Sea, Callahan describes the experience as having brought him “a strange kind of wealth, the most important kind” (100)—the ability to appreciate life’s pleasures and joys even while suffering.
Haig repeats, “Nothing is stronger than a small hope that doesn’t give up” (101).
Haig includes the following quotation by Rainer Maria Rilke from The Book of Hours: “Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final” (102).
In “A reminder for the tough times,” Haig reminds readers that their current circumstances will pass and they will treasure their lives all the more.
In “The goldsaddle goatfish,” Haig describes the titular fish goatfish and explains that divers recently noticed a similar but much larger fish in the same waters around Hawaii. Upon closer examination, the divers found that it was not another fish, but rather eight goldsaddle goatfish swimming closely together in a “perfectly fish-shaped pattern” (104). They are known to do so when they feel threatened. Haig states that togetherness is fundamental to the world and to humans, who can survive by helping one another.
In “Rain,” Haig recommends allowing rain to pour rather than trying to stop it. People are not the “bad feelings” in their heads.
“Truth and courage and Karl Heinrich Ulrichs” recounts the story of Ulrichs, who came out as gay in 1862 and wrote about the need for sexual reform, first anonymously and then using his own name. Although he experienced backlash and repeatedly got into legal trouble, he kept writing. He is now recognized as a key figure in the history of gay rights. Haig states that knowing some people are ready to stand up to injustice regardless of the cost is a “deep comfort.”
In “Scroll your mind,” Haig recommends “scrolling” one’s mind rather than one’s social media pages, looking for “reasons to be grateful to be you” (110).
In “Current,” Haig states that although he has largely recovered from depression, it is never entirely behind him. He used to believe he was either well or unwell, but this binary thinking was “dangerous”; whenever he began to feel anything was wrong, he would become “deeply anxious and depressed” that he “was back to being properly ill” (111). This became a “self-fulfilling prophecy.” Now, Haig suggests that the reality—that bothersome emotions never entirely go away—is both uncomfortable and reassuring. Although it is not pleasant to think about pain returning, the ebbs and flows of mental health also teach one that pain will eventually pass. Haig stresses the importance of allowing thoughts to flow rather than resisting them.
In “Good sad,” Haig comments that “gentle sadness” can almost feel good, like a reminder of “warm things.”
In “Jaws and Nietzsche and death and life,” Haig comments on his own and others’ fear of death. He shares that when he was actively suicidal, he feared death more than ever before: He wanted to die because he did not want to die. Haig points out that fear is exacerbated when it is not spoken about or acknowledged and applies this same principle to death: Because the nature of death is hidden and unknowable, the topic of death is uncomfortable. Haig reminds us that death is a part of life and defines life. Life would not seem as meaningful if it lasted forever.
In “Underwater,” Haig reminds readers that people always inhabit the present and that this is where we should be. However, there is a difference between the natural state of inhabiting the present and the conscious effort to enjoy the present. Haig quotes Henry David Thoreau’s advice to appreciate every moment, but he admits it sounds impossible (118). Being in the present can be difficult for “completists” who feel the need to be productive. Haig states that the “hardest dream” is “the dream of not being tormented by our unlived dreams” and urges readers “to cope with and accept unfulfillment as a natural human condition” (119).
“I hope this email finds you well” lists a variety of comforting words that substitute for the commonly used greeting of the title.
In “A note on the future,” Haig reminds readers that the future could never be free from worry and urges readers to accept this to prevent unnecessary suffering.
In “Beware because,” Haig reiterates that human value does not require a “because.”
“Ten things that won’t make you happier” lists 10 common issues people experience that preclude them from being happier.
In “Check your armor,” Haig writes, “Check your emotional armor is actually protecting you, and no so heavy you can’t remove it” (125).
Haig includes the following quotation by Anne Lamott:
Your problem is how you are going to spend this one and precious life you have been issued. Whether you’re going to spend it trying to look good and creating the illusion that you have power over circumstances, or whether you are going to taste it, enjoy it and find out the truth about who you are (126).
In “A human, being,” Haig reiterates that worth is inherent and not something to be earned or bought.
In “You are waterproof,” Haig urges readers to find happiness even when “soaked” rather than trying vainly to stop it from raining.
Part 2 reflects on the change and flux of emotional states, which Haig likens to the changes of nature. He puts negative experiences and states of despair into context by framing them as small bits of a much larger whole. Likewise, Haig points out that one can find good within the bad. This sentiment echoes Part 1’s observation that life contains both light and dark.
Haig employs various metaphors to underscore the importance of the big picture. When people begin to view moments of despair or negative thoughts as merely molecules in the flow of life, brushstrokes in a beautiful painting, or shadows accentuating light, they become more manageable: Pain loses some of its power over human life, and previously invisible pleasures emerge. Once again, this perspective is counterintuitive. Haig personifies pain, calling it “selfish” to suggest the way it inflates itself to appear much bigger and more threatening than it is.
In Part 2, Haig includes a wealth of images and insights that highlight and embrace the constancy of change. Heraclitus’s comparison of life to a river hearkens back to Part 1’s image of fluid and ever-changing clouds. Haig emphasizes the ebb and flow of life and suggests that rather than concerning themselves with every detail, people should simply let experiences and emotions pass through them. This underscores the importance of forward movement—in the mind as well as in life—and in the chapter on making a bad day better, Haig again highlights the importance of allowing thoughts to flow and not get stuck. Rather than resisting negative thoughts, one should acknowledge them and allow them to pass by, just like everything in life inevitably does. Humans tend to see the ebb and flow of life as more of a curse than a comfort because it implies that nothing is permanent. However, just as good things do not last forever, neither do bad things.
Haig also suggests that there is good within bad. The platitude “every dark cloud has a silver lining” is trite for a reason—because it is true. Haig’s inclusion of Callahan’s story of survival demonstrates exactly this. It is not simply that Callahan’s ordeal teaches him to appreciate the preciousness of existence afterward. Rather, Callahan finds things to appreciate even amid his ordeal; he describes the beauty of a clear, starry night sky he witnessed while at sea as “[a] view of heaven from a seat in hell” (100).
This ability to discern good in bad requires resisting binary thinking and highlights that Haig’s call for simplicity is not the same as a call for simplification—e.g., Haig’s tendency to believe that he is either well or unwell, which causes him unnecessary suffering. Appreciating the fundamentals of life does not require ignoring its complexities and ambiguities.
Plus, gain access to 8,800+ more expert-written Study Guides.
Including features:
By Matt Haig