I had a chat with a friend the other day about happiness. She asked me about the pursuit and if it really comes to any meaning. Perhaps it’s just futile and only leads us on a goose chase that leaves us feeling tired and bitter. It was a great conversation and it gave me a lot of insights as I pondered it.
I once heard an author say that all of his writing comes from a question. In other words, he doesn’t write because he thinks he’s an expert about something. Instead, he is processing out loud as he writes. That’s exactly what I am doing here. I’m wondering as a wander, so to speak.
In such a conversation, it seems that we have to start with the semantics. What is happiness? Is it really something to be “attained”? In my own definition, happiness is merely the emotional reaction to what we perceive another is doing to or for us. While I’m probably just being over-analytical, I would venture that what we are really looking for is joy or contentment. Or better yet – serenity.
If we stick with the word “happy,” I have my doubts that it is something that can be pursued and caught up with. It appears to be a futile chase toward something that is ethereal and can never fully be grasped. Rather, it would be more like Thoreau’s estimation that it is something akin to a butterfly that will come and land on our shoulder if we would just stop and smell the roses.
Regardless of the right term – happiness, joy, contentment – I find myself more and more seeing it as a state of being rather than a condition to be attained. In all of its elusiveness, we are shooting at a moving target. It is nearly impossible to hit something that is constantly changing. As I was considering this idea, it occurred to me: we are also moving. If both the target and the source are in motion, then how can we expect to ever make contact!?
What I mean is this: when we aren’t centered and mindful, how do we really even know what we want? How can we ever come to a place that we can be assured is genuine joy? It is like hoping that two atoms from opposite sides of the world will eventually make contact. It’s nearly impossible and only guaranteed to leave us worn out and hopeless.
So what would it look like if we did the inner work to truly know ourselves? How would it be to slow time and actually live in the moment with complete awareness and intentionality? Not multitasking, not running, not chasing. Instead – breathing, sitting, being.
I’m talking to myself as much as anyone, but I would be willing to bet that, if we would stop and smell the roses, we would experience a great shift. Not only would happiness not seem like an elusive ideal, but we would likely realize that, in that moment, we already have all that we need. For the first time, we will experience joy and contentment. Finally, we will have what we ask for in the old prayer: courage, wisdom, and the ultimate peace of mind: serenity.
Apophatica 