Misery

"Most people would rather be certain they're miserable, than risk being happy." -- Robert Anthony.

I believe there is a rather large kernel of truth in this quote. I know in my own case, in the past I have let myself get bogged down in the misery at times, rather than grasp at the possibility of a happiness that may or may not have been just beyond my reach. Sometimes going so far as to doubt a happiness that is right before me offering things that I knew without doubt I craved in the deepest parts of my being. I don't believe that I am unique in this, which brings me to the inevitable question of why. Why do many of us do this to ourselves? Why do we occasionally work against our own interests? And what does it take to release ourselves from this self-imposed misery? As with so many of these issues, I believe a great deal of it can be boiled down to fear and external expectations.

How do we come to the point of embracing our miseries? I seriously doubt it is a conscious act for most of us. Perhaps it is cumulative. We have innumerable small nips and bites take away small but essential pieces of our happiness over a long period of time, until all we notice is the pain and forget the happiness or potential for happiness that once inhabited the places now filled with pain and loss.

Perhaps it comes with an awareness that risk can equally lead to much worse misery as easily as to happiness, and the fear of that outcome deters us from reaching for the potential happiness that also could come about. Better the devil you know than the devil you don't.

Also, there is the risk of possible censure of family, friends or society because the happiness that calls to us falls outside acceptable norms and expectations. Perhaps our true happiness lies in running away and joining a circus. Without a doubt, others would warn against pursuing pipe dreams and not being mature or responsible. Conformity or fear of criticism frequently suppress the true desires of our hearts, sometimes to the point of killing them completely. In time, we become a self-policing organism that will not allow itself to acknowledge that the stars exist, much less reach out for them. Once this self-policing is firmly in place, we frequently don't recognize gifts of happiness that appear before us wrapped up in pretty paper and a bow. And, if we do notice it, we may be suspicious that the contents can truly be what it appears to be, thus perpetuating the all to familiar misery. In holding tight to the familiar misery, we seemingly hope to block out even deeper misery. But, of course, there is no guarantee of that either.

How do we shake off the shackles of long standing conformity, misery, pain, that restrain our hand's reaching for the possibility of finding our true bliss? I suspect it requires a conscious focusing on how we can move deliberately toward joy and release our hold on the constant niggling pains that we've allowed ourselves to claim as our own. Not an easy task, certainly. It is terribly easy to lapse back into familiar patterns. Too easy to substitute acceptance for happiness. To cling to stability rather than risk change for the sake of happiness and fulfillment. To exchange a proper public image for all out goofy joy.

As I was examining some of these questions with a friend, discussing the potential for a great happiness that had suddenly appeared in my life, she offered very wise words. "Accept it and say 'thank you'." And so I did. And so I shall. It is the only truly rational response.

"Say yes quickly, if you know, if you've known it from before the beginning of the universe." -- Rumi.

Sharing Happiness

"An unshared happiness is not happiness." -- Boris Pasternak.

Not being an absolutist, I'm reluctant to agree with Pasternak totally. There is, however, a germ of truth in this that I wish to explore.

It is certainly possible to be quietly happy about some things and feel no need to find company to share them with. The things that give this kind of happiness vary from person to person. For me, it tends to happen most often with what seems to be small in the grand scheme of things. When I finish making something with my hands, I do not need to show it to all and sundry in order to savor the satisfaction and gentle happiness that I feel. I can hold the finished sock, shawl or dress and smile all by myself before I move on to the next thing. And for quite awhile after it is completed, it will generate the same little joy whenever I use it.

Another experience where this occurs for me is when I am walking among the trees. Many times I not only do not need to share the connection and happiness I feel in this experience, I do not want to. There is a depth of feeling within me at those times that defy the ability to share. Or, at least, I've yet to find anyone to share it with whose presence would not detract from the feelings it generates within me. I wonder if the experience would be enhanced or merely take on a different feeling if I ever were to find someone to share it with. But, for now at least, it is a stand alone joy that is not diminished by being solitary.

The ocean, on the other hand, absolutely demands a companion for me to feel the greatest happiness. There is an overwhelming power generated by the ocean that requires that the experience be shared. I feel that I cannot hold it alone. And, while I realize no two people will experience it in the same way, the feeling is so vast that another silent witness makes it easier to find the depths of joy and awe that it can give.

There are also some events and accomplishments that are, somehow, lessened without the sharing of them. Sometimes these are the milestones in our lives. Large or small, joyful celebrations are not as joyful without friends or family to share them with. Other times, it is the recognition of achievement or the difficult challenge met that generates such a bubbling up of happiness that we must tell everyone dear to us about it. And, absent dear ones, we will stop mere acquaintances or total strangers and tell them because we cannot contain the feeling within ourselves. The efforts or hopes that we've held closely to our hearts erupt and overflow when they are realized. It's the feeling of someone about to become a parent who tells everyone about the coming baby. It is the person who has struggled to achieve a dream who is finally able to say, "I did it!"

I wonder if there is any real difference in the types of happiness, beyond the circle it finds its voice in. Some might argue that it is better to feel the fullness of joys within ourselves, not needing to share it. Perhaps even suggesting that exuberance is unnecessary to joy. Other might agree with Pasternak that sharing is necessary to the fullness of happiness. I feel that there is no duality to happiness; it is a both/and rather than an either/or proposition. There is quite simply no right or wrong way to be happy or to express it.

Society imposes unspoken expectations and restrictions on the level the expression of joy may take. These tend to be based on the perceived value of the experience and the age of the person experiencing it. In fact, if people do not express an 'appropriate' response to a happy event, they can be condemned either as unfeeling or childish. If anyone much older than 5 years old becomes too thrilled at the sight of a daisy, they will most likely be seen as a simpleton. If someone fails to celebrate anything at the same level as those around them, they are seen as unfeeling and perhaps depressed. Society demands conformity even in expressions of happiness. How sad.

The challenge in expressing happiness, as in most other things, is to give it our own authentic voice and the devil take the hindmost for what others think about it.

The Past

"The past is never dead. It's not even past." -- William Faulkner.

Generally, Faulkner is a bit too jaded for my tastes, but there is something that rings true for me in this quote. And, in mulling over my own past, I feel that this applies to both the good and the bad, although the bad seems much easier to recognize.

I have known people who have lived through the nightmare of child abuse, who have told me that no matter how much counseling or therapy they have had that it still informs their self-image. They think that they have dealt with it only to find it nipping at their heels when they least expect it. They hold a secret guilt that it was really all their own fault and, should any one find out about it, people would abandon them. There is no rationalizing it away. There is the possibility of reducing the intensity, but it will never go away completely. In cases of extreme abuse, the person will simply dissociate from the experience to avoid living the pain, which, in turn, keeps them from enjoying the present.

Similarly, many people who have experienced physical attacks continue to carry internal scars from the experience. It causes them to alter their behavior in an attempt to make certain that it cannot happen again. It is futile, of course, but the need to, at the very least, control what happens to one's person and avoid any additional attacks is a strong one. In a strange way, by taking on guilt or anger at one's self in these cases, one is taking back a small measure of power and rejecting the label "victim." But that is only a partial solution.

We have all heard stories of soldiers and others following the trauma of war or other violence who develop post traumatic stress syndrome. In an earlier age, we collectively did not seem to have much compassion for such people. If we gave their condition any name at all, it was something reflective of them somehow being a coward or weak. It didn't occur to people that some sights and deeds could maim an individual's mind and spirit just as severely as physical violence could maim their bodies. We seemed to have gotten past that for the most part, but one can still hear an echo of impatience for those who are unable to "buck up."

Naturally, there are good things in life that never leave us as well. Any happy life altering event will stay with us for quite a long time. I imagine that every parent can remember the moment when their baby was first put in their arms. We remember fondly when someone said exactly the right thing to make us feel better about ourselves, whether it was a parent, a teacher, or a friend. We also carry with us the small, repeated activities with someone we love, regardless if they are alive or dead, whether it be fishing trips, Sunday morning runs to get donuts, endless card games, or double scoop cones at Baskin Robbins. The fond memories remain, even if they no longer happen.

I wonder why it is so much more difficult to hold on to the good things. Perhaps it is because things that follow can color the past, and this is more pronounced in the good memories. Bad memories get neither worse nor better with the passage of time. They were bad when they happened and nothing will soften that badness into goodness. With the good things, however, their goodness can be diminished by time and circumstances. If we have looked back at a person fondly, only to find that they had deceived us, that fondness disappears in a puff of smoke. What we felt was a good thing as a child can, in the light of adulthood, look very, very different, leaving us to figure out what was true about the experience. And that infant one fell in love with at first sight is hard to see in the teenager who says they hate you.

Perhaps another reason is that the negatives are generally much stronger than the positives. Ice cream cone memories can't hold a candle to the strength of the pain and horror of being violated by another human being. While they will continue to make us smile when we think of them, the good things are easily drowned out by the bad. And, if there are too many bad things, the good ones can disappear completely, as if they were merely an unreal fantasy.

I think Faulkner was right that the past always tags along with us, for good or for ill. Our only response is to find some way to live with it honestly, without lying to ourselves or sugar coating it; to bring to the fore those experiences and memories that were strong and good. And to recognize that every single person is dealing with something and to treat them gently for that reason.