[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.
