I Found Happiness on a Tour Bus
In the quest for New Happy, what you do matters more than where you are.
I have struggled writing this review of Stephanie Harrison’s New Happy: Getting Happiness Right in a World That’s Got It Wrong (Penguin, 2024). It is not that I find myself short of what to say; it is far more the opposite. Trying to wrap my fingers around the words to describe how deeply this book affected me has given new meaning to boiling the ocean. For a while now, my perfectionism and ‘old happy’ habits have been telling me I was not worthy of sharing this story.
Who is better suited, though, to tell how the ideas in this book have been a lifeline during what has turned into one of the most challenging times I have known? While this started as a book review for a reseller’s site, my neurodivergent brain led me to a more personal and detailed exploration of its impact on my life. I believe, however, that now is the time, and this is the place, to share a little of that tale. One that has taken me through the worst part of burnout, and shown me the true path to happiness, in the unlikeliest of places.
Some things about me
Not long ago, I awoke to the reality my childhood was one where I was not allowed to discover who I was. Due to the emotional neglect wrought by an abusive family system, I had never learned what it meant, or how to be a whole person. Many of my emotions were either long buried or invalidated, only now coming to the forefront of my consciousness.
Expanding on “not allowed to discover who I was,” there are disorders that leave someone unable to make a distinction between where they end, and children in their care begin — their progeny aren’t permitted to individuate. Afflicted caregivers dictate not just their children’s actions, but, insidiously, their thoughts. Any original thoughts challenging the caregiver’s authority or contradicting their views are shamed and dismissed. Kids hear things such as “That’s not what happened,” “I never said that.” “No, you never liked that,” “You have nothing to be upset about,” and the Machiavellian: “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
When said to a child, those words do harm. Said more constantly and consistently than the unconditional love all children should receive, those words become an internalized, foundational part of their psyche.
Following high school, I entered the workforce full-time as an IT guy, since computers were a growing field for which I had some aptitude. It does not take long working full-time, to become accustomed to the income and lifestyle it affords, finding yourself pulled into the rat race, having become dependent. Despite my aptitude and love for it, eventually, I ended up dissatisfied with the work.
Coming to terms with the fact midlife dissatisfaction was so common was almost as depressing as the dissatisfaction itself.
For me, the candle began to sputter in my early twenties. There were brief rekindlings at the start of any new venture, and an especially bright flare with the rise in popularity of ‘the cloud.’ As with many things, I quickly absorbed the information, and before long, the excitement faded.
After bouncing around the world for a while at the start of my career, I settled at a mid-sized real estate firm, spending almost twenty years in various roles. In 2023, tough times in the industry led the company to change priorities, particularly around technology spending. Unfortunately, there were several in my department, including me, whose expensive services did not align with the new vision.
That was, as you would imagine, stressful.
Driven by growing unrest, I had been seeking alternative employment for about six months when the layoff call came, and I redoubled my efforts. To that point though, my search had not been fruitful. Continuing to look and apply, editing resumes and the endless cycle of applying and not getting responses was the most dehumanizing ordeal of my existence to date.
Not a stranger to unemployment, but this time felt different — I have a family. My wife’s income meant we would not burn through our savings too quickly, but even that knowledge was no help.
Sometime after my last day at work, I got up like any other day went into my home office, like any other day, and sat down to recommence the search while logging into another class.
I couldn’t do it. I hit a wall in the form of an overwhelming sense of purposelessness. Compounded with other significant stressors in my life, this led to my discovering a new sense of self-awareness and, at forty-five, receiving a diagnosis of autism spectrum disorder. Of the many descriptors one might apply to my mindset during this time, happiness was not on the list.
Discovering The New Happy (and taking it on tour)
Amid feeling lost and overwhelmed, the social algorithms finally did something good for me. My thumb swiped up, as it had about 300 times during that day’s episode of Arthur’s Daily Dissociative Doomscroll Hour. However, instead of the dismal videos I had been seeing, I found myself suddenly confronted by a cheerful voice. A smiling brunette with striking cheekbones and large, clear, and bright eyes. Addressing the camera with a caring, and instantly engaging tone, she was trying to teach me a lesson about something I should have learned as a child but never did.
Who was this person? How did she know I’d never learned this lesson? How had she learned it? Perhaps as importantly, what had her cheerful about it? Browsing her content, there were more of these shorts — With titles such as “How to be Envious,” and “How to Ask for Help.”
This was my introduction to Stephanie Harrison and the world of The New Happy. Her site provided easy answers to my questions, the first sentence handily dispatching with my most pressing above. Harrison, says her About page, is an expert in the science of happiness, with a master’s degree from the University of Pennsylvania in positive psychology.
Stephanie’s short videos continued to make regular appearances during my avoidant time, always succeeding in giving me something to consider but never failing to leave me in a better place emotionally than when the video began. One day, I (again) stumbled upon an excercise from The New Happy, the Values Wheel. It piqued my interest the first time, and I downloaded it. I was engaged in something else and didn’t have time to do it right away. True to the form of my executive dysfunction, I forgot I had it. This time, though, I pulled out my notebook, put on some music to help me focus, and settled down for what I anticipated would be a painful endeavor. Far from it, that decision turned into a defining moment.
Choosing twenty adjectives from the provided list of ninety seemed, at a glance, impossible, especially given I was so sure that I wasn’t sure of who I was. Imagine my surprise when, as I looked over the list, some words did not register with my brain as words but leaped from the screen and filled me with conviction. It took considerably less of both time and pain than I thought to get those first twenty down. Narrowing them to ten and then five ‘core values’, respectively, was as instinctive.
I sat for a while when finished, looking at the list of words I had compiled with some measure of incredulity. It is not that I felt my convictions waning, but I seldom openly associated myself with such qualities.
Then I had an idea.
I fed the PDF of the exercise, along with my responses, into ChatGPT. I prompted it simply: given the instructions, what does it say about a person with the answers I had provided?
Before the words had finished scrolling, tears made them too hard to read anyway.
“So,” I thought, reading again after composing myself, “This… is… me?”
What I had read started resonating with the choices I had made in my life. It is here that I finally began getting acquainted with the who and why of me. I may spend the rest of my life trying to describe what it felt like — to instantly fill in so many variables in the equation of my personality; to suddenly comprehend so much about… Me.
Yes, it was me.
Now defined, these principles have been at the forefront of every decision I have made from that point. They have always been guiding me, though — even if from the background. I often find myself referring to the page in my little notebook or the photograph of it on my phone — the list long ago committed to memory; there is still something that hits differently when I see those words in front of me. It has been such a cornerstone of my healing and growth these past few months that I encourage everyone to try this. You may be pleasantly surprised by what you learn about yourself.
Understanding how these values manifested in my life prompted me to take some extraordinary actions and forge some unlikely connections. This newfound self-awareness and confidence allowed me to show up for my friend Aaron as he worked to get his ambitious new venture, a Rush tribute band named A Farewell to Kings (AF2K), off the ground. This reignited a long-forgotten love of live music, leading to an adventure and a profound reconnection that I hope to articulate someday. To simply say it has been good for me, or even transformative, would amount to felony-level minimization.
Combined with the other self-work I had been doing, this led me to offer help with merchandise sales during AF2K’s upcoming shows. I figured if it got me into a practice now and then, it would be reward enough! Besides, I had the time — and expertise: in another life, I contributed to organizing a large industry conference, where, among other things, I spent a few years running the event’s store. It seemed like an arrangement with plenty of upsides for all of us.
Ahead of New Happy’s publication, Stephanie made a couple of posts about her upcoming book that caught my attention— one concerning preorders, and another post asking for volunteers to be part of the launch team, to help get word out about the upcoming release. These led me to take a few out-of-character actions.
Recent though it is, the vibrance of this memory was matched only by my mood that day. The afternoon London sun, eeking past seasonable warmth, begged for pedestrians. On holiday visiting my friend Zac, we were strolling through Soho on our way to dinner when, at my request, we halted for an unnecessary breather and sat on a bench for a few moments. Zac engaged in people watching as I filled out the form and offered to help spread the word about New Happy. First things first though, I placed that preorder, and then decided to have a go at the launch team application. It was an easy-to-complete Google form, and it took longer to battle my inner critic than to complete.
In this age of Amazon, preording a book is common enough. I thought of Zac sitting six feet away, we have a long history of randomly gifting books to one another. Experiencing the benefits of having only started to fold in the philosophy, it was plain to me how beneficial Stephanie Harrison’s new work would prove. (Spoiler alert: I was right.) I ordered more than a dozen copies. That wasn’t odd, was it?
Months on, I’m still surprised at myself for joining the launch team. I had no expectation of acceptance; without any social following, and unemployed to boot, I certainly was not in any position of influence. I am, unironically, happy to have been mistaken by that. The launch team’s regular calls promised to become a highlight in what I thought would be an otherwise unpleasant spring.
Having returned from the UK, I was driving back from the airport when Aaron called me. Something dire gripped his voice as he asked if I could fly to Chicago immediately. It was his third repetition before I was confident I heard him. Uli Jon Roth needed help, now. Taking one more second to confirm that I was, in fact, driving and not still in dreamland over the Atlantic, I asked him to fill me in.
Uli’s merch guy had fallen ill, and he asked if Aaron knew anyone available who could help. Now, the question to me was if I would spend a week with the tour. Not the glamorous entry into the music business of my youthful dreams, but this was unquestionably a once in a lifetime opportunity. Surprisingly, and without hesitation, I said yes. Later, reflection revealed how heavily Stephanie’s work influenced my decision.
Shortly after my arrival, I learned a scheduling conflict meant the tour manager would be leaving the following week. It was clear they were in a bind. I wanted to keep my mouth shut, keep my head down, sell t-shirts for a week and go home — but I could not. Knowing my skills and experience with conferences would transfer well, I offered to take over that role. This is not something I would traditionally have been comfortable doing in that environment, in such an unknown situation, or at that time in my life. Here again, it is clear to me how, fresh in my mind, the reflective exercises from The New Happy were shaping my actions.
Despite not yet having read New Happy, (the launch team’s early copy came after I joined the tour), I found joy on that bus I did not expect to be seeing again anytime soon. Reading the book showed me how the happiness I was experiencing was possible, even during a dark time. It was affirming of the faith I had placed in the lessons I was adopting surrounding this philosophy.
Seeing the connections to the situation I was in the middle of — the tour — was not so surprising. Surprising was how, in random moments of reflection or introspection, I would make a connection to something I had learned — and how the happiness found in that past moment tied into using who I was to help others
That was a massive amount of background, thank you for hanging in there! It was necessary for me to present New Happy and the ideas behind it in the context of my journey when they found me.
“And now,” as Casey would say, “on with the countdown.”
Reviewing New Happy
All my devices are set to ‘dark mode,’ and I shy away from ‘the big light.’ This is my excuse for the embarrassing admission that the bright, white, and colorfully adorned cover of Stephanie Harrison’s New Happy: Getting Happiness Right in a World That’s Got It Wrong might not have pulled me in on its own. This was about all the negative feedback I could muster. I thought it best to get it out of the way.
While the cover may not have been my first choice, the message of hope contained therein echoes what I had been witnessing. The wonderful, insightful artwork inside would not work on a dark background anyway. Besides, given the subject at hand, I believe it is justifiably vivid.
The book’s structure presents its concepts intuitively through five parts. In the first two, we learn about where our current views of happiness (old happy) come from, where they have fallen us short, and the lies those views lead us to tell ourselves. Part three explains for us a bit more about what happiness really is. From there, parts four and five move on to self-exploration and ways and places we might use the knowledge gained.
Stephanie Harrison introduces herself and her story up front, disclosing what led to the development of this new philosophy, demonstrating a level of vulnerability that let’s us know refreshing authenticity promises to follow. There is no burying the lede here, either. Midway through the first chapter she divulges what the secret to happiness is: discover who you are and share yourself in ways that help others.
Oh, is that all?
Harrison’s workᅳand thus our ownᅳwould be easier if we didn’t have to spend so much time unraveling the illusion of ‘old happy,’ showing how, for many, it’s an endless chase of moving goals. Images of greyhounds perpetually running after a mechanical rabbit, serve as a stark metaphor.
That deconstruction is necessarily covered by New Happy. Know your enemy, after all. Our enemy — old happy in this case — is, in part, the set of concepts that, according to societal and cultural expectations, happiness is found in external achievements, material possessions, and constant success. It goes on to explain these expectations lead us to an eternal state of striving for something extrinsic, without an understanding for what true happiness is.
A core message from New Happy is the importance of self-awareness and understanding who we are. This resonated with me enormously, especially after my experience with the Values Wheel and other exercises.
Practical tools and reflective questions throughout the book readers identify their strengths and passions. Thoughtful little dives into self-discovery, they encourage a deeper exploration of what will bring genuine enrichment, rather than the old happy way taught to us by society. This is where Stephanie’s work stands out — though deeply researched, it remains accessible and actionable. There are further exercises available at thenewhappy.com, and for me, they’ve all proven worthy of my time.
A favorite idea from the book is we can find joy in our work and daily activities by aligning them with our core values. This insight was revelatory in understanding why my previous positions had felt so empty and why that new role as tour manager, though temporary, was so fulfilling: I was using who I was to help people, yes, but in a way — and a job — that fit with many of the values I was coming to associate with myself.
Another concept I am working to add to my daily practice is Stephanie’s take on loving-kindness meditation:
“You can practice this meditation formally, but I have a specific twist on it that effortlessly integrates it into your daily life. Whenever you pass someone on the streets, at the shops, or at work, look at them for a moment and mentally say, “I hope you will be happy today,” or “You deserve love and happiness.” Create these pockets of love in every day.”
Keeping with the spirit of loving kindness, I have tried to get in the habit of doing it when walking past mirrors, too. That has been a little harder to take on, but I am getting there.
Emphasizing the importance of community and connection, New Happy highlights how true well-being comes from our relationships and the positive impact we have on one another. This has been clear in my recent interactions with Aaron and AF2K, and with Uli and his band. Reflecting on the various communities I have been fortunate to count myself a part of throughout my life further crystallizes this. The deep-seated sense of belonging and purpose found in these groups align directly with tenets the book describes.
Of course, there are no one-size-fits-all solutions, particularly when it comes to things so personal as what makes us happy. New Happy may not strike a chord with everyone — or it may depend on where you are in life. A year ago, it would not have had anywhere approaching this impact on me. You may discover, that through happenstance, circumstance, or ingenuity, the lessons Stephanie Harrison is trying to teach us are already known to you. More probable, as with my not-too-distant self, you may not be in a place to receive what she is transmitting right now. Should you find that to be the case, it is OK, I encourage you to set the book aside for a while; it will be there when you are ready.
Wrapping it up
Not merely a how-to for happiness, nor for transforming your life by understanding and aligning with your true self. It is those things, of course, but more. New Happy is a movement, and a shift in philosophy. Referring to it as a ‘self-help’ book simultaneously over-simplifies and misclassifies a work at least as much about helping the world.
Finding happiness by using who we are to help others, is a truth some may grasp instinctively, or through the gift of a nurturing upbringing. For those like me, it’s one we must glean from life on our own, unless we happen to come across someone, like Stephanie Harrison, willing to share the secret with us. For me, that lesson came on a tour bus, and learning it firsthand has been a deeply profound experience. Another eye-opening takeaway from New Happy has been how much joy we can bring to others, when we simply let go of old happy, and ask for help.
Recently, I have focused on noticing when the past lenses through which I viewed the world slip in front of my cognition, and once again distort my notion of what brings happiness. New Happy underscores dismantling our old beliefs is as critical as incorporating the ideas within. As someone who has been on the healing thrill ride for a little while, I want to highlight a phrase I consider as overused as it is misunderstood: ‘doing the work.’ Unlearning ingrained patterns, behaviors, and belief systems, is where the heavy lifting lies.
The universe, it seems, has a knack for irony.
Changing a lifetime of beliefs and behaviors is a big ask. As with anything worth doing, this is not about quick fixes or superficial changes. It is about a fundamental shift in how we approach our outlook on, and pursuit of, a quality unique to humanity: happiness.
I am cognizant that this might be oversharing my story, but I do so in the hopes that you will see that such a shift is possible. Stephanie Harrison’s insights and exercises have had a deep impact on me, aiding me in navigating demanding times, to come out stronger, more self-aware, and not only happier, but with the knowledge of how to cultivate more of it for myself and others.
I wholeheartedly recommend this book and the philosophy it represents to anyone — not only those feeling lost or dissatisfied with their current path. It offers a guiding light, and a roadmap to finding genuine happiness in a world that often gets it wrong. Whether you are dealing with personal, professional, or emotional struggles — or if you are tired of chasing that mechanical rabbit — through New Happy, Stephanie Harrison offers tools and wisdom to help you find your way.
I credit her as much as my therapists and friends (and yes, me too) for finding myself where I now do. Still with a long journey ahead, only now with a map, a compass, and a guide.
New Happy: Getting Happiness Right in a World That’s Got It Wrong (Penguin, 2024) is an international bestseller available wherever books are sold.
The New Happy community, exercises, newsletters, and podcast can be found at https://thenewhappy.com
