[high-pitched rewind whine] [projector humming] i grew up as a big-headed baby in seattle, moved to nicaragua when i was three, made friends with parrots and sloths. moved back to washington state when i was five, learned to play the bassoon. moved to illinois and joined the drama club, and eventually, i landed in los angeles as dunder mifflin s assistant to the regional manager. - please welcome rainn wilson. - rainn wilson. - yet for all my success, my wife and son, whom i love, a nice house, people tattooing my face on their feet. [beeping, whirring] [sighs] you d think i d be happier. [upbeat music] but like so many others, i struggle. to find fulfillment. amy. to find true joy. i need to be honest with you all. it s just i ve been going through a really hard time recently on a number of different levels, and i ve been feeling a little bit low, a little bit less than, a little depressed and humbled and lost these days. and so i ve churned through countless thera
theories abound as to why cold climates produce happier people than warm ones. my favorite might well be called the get along or die theory. in warm places, it says, your next meal simply falls from a coconut tree. in colder places, people must band together to ensure a good harvest, or else everyone dies. together. - this is a cup of tea for you. - oh, thank you. - for pálína, her mother siggy and her father axel, a pastor, this interdependence doesn t just explain their survival on this frozen tundra. it may also explain their happiness. what a beautiful icelandic kitchen. i understand this farm has been in your family for six or seven generations, back to the mid-1800s. what was life like? - well, i think it didn t change for centuries.