I find this title amusing for the simple fact early on in life one is an expert at happiness. But child’s play slowly loses its grasp on such an inherit skill as imagination and creativity fall victim to the folly of the real world. This Netflix film, (HFB), centers around a divorced woman, Helen, a conservative English teacher, who looks to reset herself on a backpacking trip in upstate NY on the Appalachian Trail. Sitting alone at the party overdressed, Helen goes over her goals she’s written down hiding in her purse. 1. Find a deeper connection with nature, 2. Rise from the ashes like a freaking Phoenix, and 3. Earn a damn certificate! Happiness for Beginners huh?
Her lamented to-do list for baby bro is said directly, “do something right and I’ll stop giving you a hard time.” For someone wound so tight I have to say kudos for her courage to take on a journey outside her comfort zone. Deep down I think we all know that cultivation of growth comes from surging discomfort. The status quo has become unbearable and an expert becomes a beginner.
Upon arrival at the motel Helen meets the other hikers and spills her guts to the group. “You don’t realize it but life takes a toll,” somberly she says as one of the older participants. To her surprise Jake, her baby bother’s best friend, has also signed up for the same trip and happiness is not present. “What the hell are doing on my trip,” Helen rips into Jake. “You don’t know me. Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me.”
Badgering Becket, the annoying, screechy, and preachy guide, Helen asks for more info to get educate herself on hiking; to restore a sense of control but leaves unsatisfied. Boarding the bus Jake calls her Hannah to get under skin and she corrects him. Busting her leg open before they begin signals Jake’s background as a former doctor, patching Helen up and so they begin.
Strictly speaking about AT movies this doesn’t rank high. It’s more about character development and playing off each other’s traits as they let their walls down. Letting down one’s guard screams happiness, for an individual who fears not themselves, fears nothing.
A beginner, a child, learns fears and they solidify as an adult through constant reinforcement of self-talk. “You said I’m not fun anymore. What did you mean by that,” Helen asks Jake about the thought that won’t stop. The space and time such thoughts take up is to much to afford happiness a bigger seat at the table. Another hiker studying happiness asks the others to name 3 good things that happened to them today. “I don’t think I could name 3 things,” Helen without thinking says.
Searching for external accolades like her list can’t be accomplished if one stands without gratitude. Setting the tone makes adaptation comfortable in chaos. Control isn’t bothersome or an identity. Like Willie said, “when I started counting my blessings, my whole life started to turn around.”
Putting happiness, an intangible on tangible man-made objects or awards is not what an expert does. The experience is all they crave wherever it finds them. Beginners need trails in the woods disconnecting from what has been learned to find their way back. Personally, I was never happier to have 2 pairs of clothes, calorie deficient, facing the elements of an ancient mountain range. My list was similar to Helen’s but that changed two weeks in. Happiness was found on a ridge with a fire, smokes, Light’s On, my hiking partner, simple eats, and the signal of a sunset putting a bowtie on another rotation of the Earth.
I found truth in happiness as a beginner one soggy cold day in Virginia stomping slowly alone. Wet the rain continued and I saw cows, chipmunks, and birds doing what they did every day in the same fashion. My tone changed.
Although the love story in the movie is not Titanic the Paublo Neruda poem ‘I do not love you’ was quite touching.
I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.
I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.
That sounds like happiness for beginners!
