Well then, let’s talk about how to achieve happiness. From the series: life hacks from Alexei Navalny. In fact, prison is very conducive to the feeling of happiness. Brief happiness, but still. You just have to know how to create a celebration for yourself. As soon as I was imprisoned, I decided it was very important to celebrate and mark something. So the days wouldn’t blur into routine. I decided to celebrate Sundays. And I turn them into a holiday very simply. The thing is, I really love bread. Really. If I had to eat just one food for the rest of my life, I’d choose bread. And besides, bread matters in prison — without it, you don’t feel full. So, all week I wouldn’t take any bread. But on Sunday morning, I’d take a loaf, spread butter on a slice if there was any, make some coffee, and have such a divine festive breakfast as you never even get in freedom. Can you guess where I’m going with this? 23 days of hunger strike + 23 days of a very strict, conservative recovery from it. I didn’t break the rules once. I surprised myself with my own willpower. Apparently, faith in being right helped. And since March 11, I haven’t eaten anything sweet at all. I’ll write about that separately. So when I began coming off the hunger strike, I knew exactly what I would be doing on the morning of May 16. I immediately wrote in my planner: “A very good day. Bread, butter, coffee. First time in 46 days.” The plan very nearly fell through. They give us bread and butter here in the mornings, but I had no coffee. Fortunately, a new cellmate “moved in” with a jar of instant coffee. And then came May 16. Usually at moments like that, you feel a slight disappointment. Reality is a little duller than the thing you’ve been waiting for so long. But not in my case. The weather was great. I opened the window — to hell with the bars on it — made coffee, spread butter on a piece of white bread. Sat down on the bunk. Took a bite and a sip from my mug. I’m telling you: if there were a device that could measure happiness, then no oligarch having breakfast on a yacht, no diner at a Michelin-starred restaurant, has ever experienced even one-tenth of the complete happiness I felt. I drank one of those sips to your health — to all of you who helped and supported me. So here’s the recipe for happiness (brief happiness): choose something you really love, deprive yourself of it for a while, and then bring it back. Just remember, though, that this does not apply to people. Love the people you love always 😉