By the time you read this, it will almost be July. Shortly followed by July 4th and we all know, because time is relative, it speeds up during the good times and slows down during the bad, summer will be almost over and the next thing you know the “Back To School” sales will have started and then it’ll be Thanksgiving and we’ll be watching the Macy’s parade and then it will be winter—my least favorite season.
So, basically, I’m pretty sure it’s going to snow today.
(Actually, it is a supremely beautiful day here in the Berkshires, one of those days that simply standing on the back deck, listening to the birds, feeling the soft breeze, makes one happy to be alive.)
And there’s that word: HAPPY.
There is nothing “secret” about happiness. It can be ours in an instant if we simply relax into the present moment.
Ha.
For simplistic sentences about complex subjects, that one’s a doozy.
There are a couple of things wrong with this idea. It is not simple and it is not the right goal.
Happy is an elevated state. It contains a bit of excitement, a bit of delight, a little hit of dopamine.
To make happiness a goal in life is to ensure you will be disappointed.
Happy is ephemeral and, being so, must disappear. The dopamine hit eventually wears off. The excitement dissipates. The delight dissolves.
Newton’s Third Law has not been repealed by any advancement in physics. It remains vert much in place: To every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.
And something of the sort operates with our feelings: For every time one is “happy,” there is an inevitable letdown.
So, the secret of happiness is this: Do not chase it. Happiness is like that dog that we’ve all have had that regularly escapes from the yard and we have to go chasing it. He—it’s almost always a male dog—sneaks through hedges and back yards, appearing and disappearing like a ghost, taunting us as we call his name. Should we actually get close, we use treats and entreaties, we beg, and, by this time, several of the neighbors have been drawn into this little drama. Someone might get close and then—woosh—off like the wind.
The dog eventually comes home on its own. You find him sitting on the porch in back, like nothing ever happened, with this expression on his face:
What?
That, my friends, is the pursuit of happiness.
I know those words are enshrined in the Declaration of Independence. But so are “all men are created equal,” and how’s that going so far?
Christianity hasn’t helped in this regard. The concept of an afterlife where there is punishment or reward splits our brains right down the middle. You’re either worrying about the past and what you’ve done wrong or you’re hoping for the future.
Mindfulness helps, to be sure. But at my age, I have as much chance of becoming mindful as I do of becoming a pole vaulter.
The grooves worn in my brain from re-writing the past and planning for the future are way, way too deep.
So is it all useless?
No. There is being content.
Content isn’t as FUN! as happiness, not as sexy. It’s sort of like: I’m calm, I’m okay, I’m hanging in a hammock with a book. The itch to do something disappears.
Stoics, Taoists, some Buddhists have taught this for millennia.
Seneca (1st century C.E.), who, I just found out, lived in a castle in upstate New York, said:
“True happiness is… to enjoy the present, without anxious dependence upon the future, not to amuse ourselves with either hopes or fears but to rest satisfied with what we have, which is sufficient, for he that is so wants nothing.”
Yes, he uses the word happiness there, but look at how he uses it.
Next week, we celebrate the Fourth of July. It might be a good time to remember that it is self-evident that the pursuit of happiness is doomed to failure. Fireworks are great—exciting and amusing. But a low-key, warm fire is what sustains us through the night.
Weekends during the summer, if the weather is nice, I fill up the bird feeders that hang squirrel-proof off the back deck. I sit back, cup of coffee in hand, and watch the birds—goldfinches, chickadees, song sparrows, finches—hustle and muscle their way to the feeder.
Sometimes, on the railing, they make a line like you see in front of a New York deli at lunch time. Other times, there’s squabbling.
But one thing that’s always happening is this: they do not shut up. The chatter is constant.
It gave me this idea for a piano piece:
You can also find it here:
Thanks for reading and listening.
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John- This is a great topic with an equally great deconstruction (Tucker being the delightful highlight). To your point, happiness is certainly more a momentary state of being rather than a permanent state of life. Happiness is a feeling just as fullness after a meal is a feeling--both aren't meant to last. And going back to your pendulum/Newton analogy, which is fantastic: the goal of happiness isn't to stay happy. The goal of happiness is direction and redirection towards meaning (which often involves lack of happiness). I love the way you interweave all these questions together. So important.
I too have learned the folly of chasing happiness. Contentment is like wisdom. It usually takes decades, if ever, to achieve.