Sunday, May 15, 2016

IF YOU'RE HAPPY AND YOU KNOW IT: Some (Aspirational) Thoughts on Gratitude and Contentment

[I have adapted this post from a talk I gave at two Unitarian Universalist churches in my area in 2014.  I am revisiting it because I need to remind myself of its message.]
        

         If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands!

         When my daughters were very young, we sang this song.  It was fun -- clapping our hands, stomping our feet, shouting hooray.  But I remember wondering – What does that mean? – If you’re happy and you know it?  Can you be happy and not know it?  Upon reflection, I have come to the conclusion that, yes, you can.

         Have you ever noticed that the manifestations of unhappiness are really compelling, while happiness can be lost in the shuffle of daily living?  Grief is riveting.  Heartbreak is a stalker.  Depression is a swamp of pain and emptiness that weighs down the depressed and refuses to be ignored.  All of these states are demanding.  They sit on our chests and threaten our very breath.  To survive them we must remember to get up in the morning, to eat, to pray, to put one foot in front of the other.

         But happiness can wash right over us without our taking note of it.  We can fail to notice that we are contented with our lives.  Or worse, we can fail to be contented because we fail to notice what we have. 

What makes you happy?  Do you even know?  Would you recognize happiness if it stepped in front of you and hit you on the head?  Or are you too busy thinking about where you have been, who has done you wrong, what you have to do next?  What if you’re happy right now and don’t know it?

Maybe I should pause here to talk about what I mean by “happy.”  My dictionary defines “happy” as “enjoying, showing or marked by pleasure, satisfaction or joy.”  To these I would add contentment, which I define as being comfortable with what we have.  I think that we are generally aware of pleasure, joy, and satisfaction.  But, what about contentment?  This is the state that I think we can go without noticing because of our failure to open our eyes.  And I also believe that we can cultivate this state.

In order to do this I think we must do two things.  The first one is somewhat difficult.  The second is quite pleasurable.  I’m going to address the hard part first.  In order to be happy, I believe we need to be conscious of, and try to reduce, some bad habits.  These are perfectionism, needing to be right, complaining, criticizing, and worrying.  (There are others, but we don't have all day.)  While I look at each of these in turn, I’m going to ask you to remember that this is the work of a lifetime.  Anyone who has overcome all of these bad habits can ascend right now.  But let’s see if the rest of us can at least try to recognize these habits for what they are.

Perfectionism.  This one is really challenging for me.  It is the false belief that we must achieve perfection in order to be lovable or even acceptable.  To be clear, the perfectionist does not believe him or herself to be perfect.  He or she, instead, drives him or herself crazy trying to do things without a mistake.  For the perfectionist, something is either perfect or it is garbage. 

You can see how this could get in the way of happiness.

         The need to be right.   This one is closely related to perfectionism.  “Do you want to be happy or do you want to be right?”  I don’t know who originated that question, but it is a good one to keep in mind.  Another version is, “Do you want to be right or do you want to be kind?”  Ouch.

         Is it really necessary to prove that we are right?  All of the time?  Can we let someone else be right?  I know a couple who resolved their squabbling by agreeing that one would be right on odd days and the other on even days. 

         There are, of course, times when it is important to convince others that we are right.  Say, when the house is on fire and they can’t smell the smoke.  But, really, isn’t most of it just our egos wanting to strut?

         Complaining.  This is another really tough one.  Have you ever tried to go a day without complaining?  I have; I don’t think that I made it through the morning.  You know the litany:  “It’s raining.  My back hurts.  My job is boring.  My boss, my mother, (you fill in the blank) is so annoying.”

         Of course, sometimes these comments can be no more than the statement of a fact or the answer to a question.  As in, “My back hurts, so I’m not gong to be able to do that job that I said I would do.”  Or, “How do you feel this morning?”  “My back hurts.”  And sometimes we are identifying a problem that might have a solution.  As in, “My job is boring, what can I do to find another job or make my life outside of work more satisfying?”  Sometimes we are expressing a genuine concern or seeking solace.  As in, “I am having a hard time being patient with my mother.”  Or, “My child is very sick and I am so afraid.”  But, let’s face it, most of the time we are just kvetching about things we either can’t do anything about or have no intention of doing anything about.  It’s as if we believe that the complaining itself will change our circumstances.

         Spoiler alert:  It won’t.

         Criticizing.  Again, try going a day without criticizing someone of something.  “If only my mother, child, spouse would do X, then I would be happy.”  Maybe.  Or maybe it is as the Dalai Lama says:  “If you want to be happy, practice compassion.”  What would this look like?  Could we rephrase the criticism as a request?  Instead of “You are driving me crazy by doing X,” might we ask, “Could you please do Y?”  Could we try to figure out what is behind the other person’s behavior and, in this way, soften our reaction?

         And might we ask ourselves this:  Is our criticism going to lead to problem–solving?  Or is it just going to raise our blood pressure?  Can we do anything about the thing we are criticizing?  If so, let’s do it.  If not, what exactly do we hope to accomplish?

         Worrying.  Sure, we need to plan.  But doesn’t worry just rob us of our pleasure in the present moment?  Here’s what Winston Churchill had to say on the subject:  “When I look back on all these worries, I remember the story of the old man who said on his deathbed that he had had a lot of trouble in his life, most of which had never happened.”

         Now that we have looked at some the things that can impede our happiness, here is something we can do to cultivate happiness.  I quote again from the Dalai Lama:  “We have to learn how to want what we have, NOT to have what we want in order to get steady and stable happiness.” 

         Can we do this?  Can we want what we have?  Let me make clear that I don’t think His Holiness is telling us to want cancer, a drug-addicted child, or any other awful circumstance, nor, do I think that he is asking us to be passive in the face of injustice or suffering.  If we are in a bad circumstance and we can do something about it, we should.  What I think that the Dalai Lama is talking about is appreciating what we already have, instead of spending our energy in lamenting what we don’t have.

         It is so easy to become numb to what we have.  Most of those who are reading this, even those with financial worries, live lives of incredible privilege.  First, to be alive is a privilege.  Then, we have all of our first-world privileges.  Housing.  Food.  Hot running water.  I expect we would miss these if they were to disappear, and yet we pay them so little notice. 

         The psychologist, Robert J. Wicks, says that we should “be aware of our tendency to manifest ‘spiritual Alzheimer’s disease,’” and that “there is a tendency to have ‘gratefulness tolerance’ and lose an appreciation of the wonderful people and things already in your life.”  I believe that the best and easiest way to cultivate happiness is to fight this tendency toward spiritual Alzheimer’s disease by cultivating gratitude.  It is through such cultivation that we learn to pay attention to what we have.

         So, how to do this?  Well, we don’t necessarily have to go around clapping, but we can spend some time each day being present to what we already have.  And this can be really pleasurable.  One way to do this is with a gratitude journal.  Try this:  Find a blank notebook and spend a couple of moments every day writing down three things for which you are grateful.  I guarantee that, over time, this will improve your mood.  I kept a gratitude journal for a while and found that the list just kept growing.  I moved beyond the obvious list of people, health, education, and creature comforts to less tangible blessings such as the slant of morning and evening light, the leisure to engage with others to walk, to knit, to read. 

         We live in a world filled with the wonders of oceans, trees, bird song, art, music, and community.  Yet, much of the time, we barely appreciate these gifts.  When we develop the habit of gratefulness, when we stop long enough to be conscious, really conscious, of these wonders, we cultivate happiness.

         And, yes, the world also holds many sorrows and challenges.  Maybe you are in a really difficult time.  Maybe you are depressed.  Or ill.  Maybe you are grieving.  You are not happy and you know it.  And you don’t feel like clapping.  Even at these times, I think it is possible to be present, however briefly, to our blessings.  This presence won’t make the unhappiness go away, but it just might cultivate a receptivity to future happiness or contentment.  We know that the wheel turns.  We can have faith that our worst moments will eventually give way to new and different happiness or contentment.

         Will we be ready?  Will we recognize contentment when we feel it?  One of the problems with recognizing happiness lies in our expectations.  A friend once told me that when he was very young he thought that when he grew up there would be a big ball of happiness.  It would be like a great wad of chewing gum.  But, over time, he learned that there was not a wad of happiness.  There were, instead, chicklets of happiness.  A chicklet here.  A chicklet there.  Can we be alert for, and present to, the chicklets?  Can we be aware of happiness as it is described by TV writer, Andy Rooney:   

“For most of life, nothing wonderful happens.  If you don’t
enjoy getting up and working and finishing your work and
sitting down to a meal with family or friends, then chances 
are you’re not going to be very happy.  If someone bases his/her 
happiness on major events like a great job, huge amounts of
money, a flawlessly happy marriage or a trip to Paris, that
person isn’t going to be happy much of the time.  If, on the other
hand, happiness depends on a good breakfast, flowers in the yard,
a drink or a nap, then we are more likely to live with quite a bit
of happiness.”

         Can we, with Andy Rooney, learn to appreciate the “little things” that aren’t so “little” after all?  I think we can.  We just have to remember to pay attention.

          On that note, I think I will go and dust off my gratitude journal.
        

Image by dhanelle from Pixabay 













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