IT is still only January and I am already in a spiritual abyss. What happened to the fresh start for 2004? What came of the new body I was going to chisel for myself? What about my plans to take up adventure sports?

I come home from work and slouch around with a giant Toblerone in hand, with nothing more spiritually enhancing to look forward to than an episode of EastEnders. I've trashed all my New Year resolutions and I can't help feeling a sense of doom, with the darkest, most depressing month of February looming before me.

So, in one last attempt at salvation, I found myself in front of the 'Mind Body and Spirit' section of Waterstones a few days ago in the hope of gaining some inner guidance from the gurus of self-help. And they can certainly teach the happiest of us a thing or two about the limitless bounds of self-improvement.

There are books ranging from spiritual dating to finding God in your laundry basket. I remain unconvinced by the handsome promises their dust jackets make. How can I be sure that my life will be transformed in 48 hours if I read Doctor MD PhD MPhil's book? Can the mysteries of cosmic success really lie in a manual written by someone who looks like Joan Rivers?

Just as I was deciding that the only thing that could save me was hard liquor, I saw a book by the Dalai Lama called The Art of Happiness: a handbook for living. The cover had his Holiness' beaming face on the front, and his laughing eyes and wee grin were like seeing a living example of what the book promised. What exactly was his secret? A simple £7.99 transaction meant the secrets of eternal Tibetan Buddhist bliss could be mine.

Two chapters later, things were not looking so bright. Are we truly happy, he suggests, or are we just travelling through life thinking we are because we have acquired the props that society equates with inner meaning: the tick list of great job, great abs, great partner, great house, great barbecue set, great endowment fund?

Apparently, the Dalai Lama's definition of happiness excludes material acquisitions, a truism I don't want to hear just after buying an expensive flat and a picture phone with amazing polyphonic ring-tones.

But scoff as I may, there are some things he says that make me think we may be making life a lot more complicated that it is. Maybe we don't have to give ourselves such a hard time. "We don't need more money", he says, "we don't need greater success or fame, we don't need the perfect body or even the perfect mate - right now, we have a mind, which is all the basic equipment we need to achieve complete happiness."

And with those wise words, I can shelve my New Year resolutions, breathe a sigh of relief and think myself happy.