The 65 Days is an idea I had a few years ago, while planning an ambitious crime novel that I have wanted to write for some time. (And I will, though I haven’t yet – it’s on my ‘To do later, when less busy’ list. This list is the only one I’ve ever made that has a subtitle: ‘Definition of less busy: a family member approaching with a mild-mannered “Can I ask you a favour?” no longer makes my heart pound as I consider pretending not to recognise them and/or answering in pretend Portuguese.)
The 65 Days is the tentative and provisional title of a self-help book that the main character of my yet-to-be-written crime novel has published. It has made her famous, in fact. And – here’s my thinking; you can let me know if the logic holds up – even though it doesn’t exist apart from in my mind, it might still be useful to this investigation of happiness. I have tried, as you’ve witnessed, to ignore it, because it seemed rather silly to include it, but it keeps popping up in my mind, so let’s give it a go.
Unlike so many other possible solutions to the mystery of happiness that we’ve looked at so far, it is not a theory. It contains no element of theory, in fact. And I don’t know about you, but I need a break from wondering, ‘But is that true? What if it’s not? And how the hell can we ever know?’
I’m tired of theories, dear sidekick. It’s time for some action. What if this mystery cannot be solved by theories alone? I feel as if that might be – and indeed should be – the case.
So … am I too proud to go to a made-up self-help book for help? No, I am not.
The 65 Days is a simple experiment that enhances the life of anyone who undertakes it, hence the huge global success of my not-yet-created protagonist’s slim volume. The experiment involves starting at the beginning of a year (not necessarily a calendar year – any year will do) and dividing that year into 300 ‘regular’ days and 65 ‘special purpose’ days. You then fulfil the special purpose that is prescribed on the 65 days, do whatever you’d normally do or whatever you want to do on the other 300 days, and monitor the effects this has on your feelings throughout the year. (Spoiler: the effects are extraordinary and life-changing for everyone who ‘does’ the 65 Days.)
After much searching on my old computer, I managed to find a list of the 65 ‘special purpose’ days that I jotted down when I first had the idea. My not-yet-created heroine is very prescriptive and has no intention of leaving it up to every reader of the book to choose 65 special purposes for him – or herself.
Why 65? Well, because in the novel I haven’t yet written, the heroine has a sinister so-called philanthropist father who forces her and her sister (using emotional blackmail) to live punitively selfless lives. He suggests (in a way they can’t refuse) that they should spend 300 days of each year thinking only of other people, and spend only 65 days thinking about themselves, having fun, and doing what they want to do; that is the proportional division of their time that he has decided is moral, so it becomes a family rule.
My fictional heroine later reclaims the idea of the 65 Days, and turns something that was used to torment her as a child into something that can help her and be a force for good in her life as an adult.
Here is the list of the 65 Special Purpose Days:
Day 1 – Promise Something
Day 2 – Admit Something
Day 3 – Invent Something
Day 5 – Buy Something
Day 6 – Invite Someone
Day 7 – Write to Someone
Day 8 – Laugh at Something
Day 9 – Make Something
Day 10 – Remove Something
Day 11 – Plan Something
Day 12 – Cancel Something
Day 13 – Add Something
Day 14 – Change Something
Day 15 – Start Something
Day 16 – Quit Something
Day 17 – Accept Something
Day 19 – Remember Something
Day 20 – Redefine Something
Day 21 – Learn Something
Day 22 – Give Something
Day 23 – Notice Something
Day 24 – Solve Something
Day 25 – Pretend Something
Day 26 – Believe Something
Day 27 – Undo Something
Day 28 – Redo Something
Day 29 – Discover Something
Day 30 – Suggest Something
Day 31 – Resist Something
Day 33 – Refuse Something
Day 34 – Decide Something
Day 35 – Endorse Something
Day 36 – Deny Something
Day 37 – Send Something
Day 38 – Approve of Something/Someone
Day 39 – Improve Something
Day 40 – Share Something
Day 41 – Open Something
Day 42 – Close Something
Day 43 – Risk Something
Day 44 – Ask Someone
Day 45 – Trust Someone
Day 47 – Surprise Someone
Day 48 – Forgive Someone
Day 49 – Inspire Someone
Day 50 – Understand Something
Day 51 – Clean Something
Day 52 – Liberate Someone
Day 53 – Love Someone
Day 54 – Appreciate Someone
Day 55 – Entertain Someone
Day 56 – Finish Something
Day 57 – Describe Something
Day 58 – Help Someone
Day 59 – Thank Someone
Day 61 – Debate Something
Day 62 – Stretch Yourself
Day 63 – Treat Yourself
Day 64 – Rescue Something
Day 65 – Create Something
I’m really tempted to look at that list with a view to improving it. I jotted it down more than four years ago in a burst of inspiration and in about half an hour. What if … no, that’s absurd.
Oh, go on, then, I’ll say it anyway. What if I was meant to make that list and devise the 65 Days experiment in order that, several years later, I could find it again and use it to solve the happiness mystery? Could it be that this is precisely what Fate intended?
If I look at the list again now, I’m bound to want to make some substitutions. And … I don’t think I’m going to give myself permission to do that. My list feels like an important historical artefact. I feel as if I need to obey it to the letter.
Wait – obey it? Does that mean that I’m going to do the experiment? I can’t. I just can’t, not on top of everything else I have to do.
A voice in my head says, Yes, you can, and you should. You must. (I strongly suspect this voice of causing all my problems. We may have a culprit, folks.)
In this instance, could the voice be right? Having looked again at the list, it seems to me that many of the items would not take too much time to achieve.