When does happiness began? Is it that pulse that is always already there, if recognized more fully when we smile or make love? I have come to believe that happiness is a matter of perspective. Cards dealt to us cannot be changed, but there are many ways to play– a series of outcomes determined, in part, by the value of the cards; how willing and capable we are when it comes to maximizing their potential. Given lemons, make Long Island Ice Tea! Many or most just suck on the lemons– complain about the bitterness. Happiness begins when you accept that under any condition, even between rocks and hard places, there is joy in the inalienable volition to choose. Often, love is a lot like lemons: Sucks! Even self-love…as clinically “Oprah” as it sounds… sucks! You can never get enough of it. (sigh). LOL
We sometimes pick happiness from the tree of life because it’s a reminder that we were not meant to do this “life” thing alone. And we can configure it as romance, friendship, family, or career aspirations but we are social animals who need people. Ever met someone who didn’t need anyone? The measure of their joy is evident in their happy detachment. Happiness is showy. SEE? It’s not the private peace of meditation. Calm and peace of mind are cool and all…but they are not happy. Happy makes noise, sings, dances…has color and rhythm. But such a needed thing is also volatile; and often the moments that we lose it offer the most critical examples of how precious a thing it is. Einstein, for all his creative and scientific genius, never offered a formula for happiness. And few of us are scientists or geniuses, but surely try… it just feels that good. It’s worth our time to try to figure it out.
Unfortunately, happiness cannot exist without its opposite. Our comprehension of sadness and loss are in direct proportion to what we experience when happy or joyful. Except there is a third state: ambivalence. Some view it as a safe state, avoiding the extremities of emotionality, but is there a more dull life than not feeling feeling? Doesn’t that just feel bad? Yeah… I know… not as bad as being hurt. Twisted to say this, but hurting feels better to me than numbness, if only because I experience FEELING alive in it. Feel me?
So sometimes happiness comes in the form of a great love; and for a season, reason (or, if lucky, a lifetime) we are on top of the world. And sometimes it leaves, whether slowly and surely or abruptly and unsuspecting, and the loss hurts like hell. And each time you arrive at this intersection of love and loss you promise never to let it happen again. Protect the heart better, be more sure, enter assured of the lifetime. And this is one of the biggest lies those of us who love and hurt hard tell ourselves; whether perpetually single or stubbornly partnered. We mess up because we try not to mess up. Love is not calculus, it’s forgetting your timetables or how to simply count. Love is easy. So easy we slip into it like wind into sail or butter on flapjacks. And there are some of us who, bruised and broken, raise our protective shields in an attempt not to submit to the determinism of the divine. We can refuse to play the game and merely spectate for the guarantee of no direct injury. But we still hurt when those we love lose; and we still get hopeful when those we love seem to find it. And to be clear, some of us just don’t do sidelines, stands, or sports bars to well. We are most fulfilled when IN IT: sweaty, nervous, passionate, driven, ready to win. In God’s game of loving we win if we simply get the lesson. We win nothing by not trying.
There are days when I fall in love. There are days when my heart is broken. There are no days when I don’t wish to feel… be reminded of the measure of my humanity. Protective, I enjoy being in control of what I have little control over. I know what I can expect of me, if not anOther, so trust is tantamount in any relationship. There are ways to measure trustworthiness. A person does not fail in most life-areas and succeed with you, boo. Do your research about teammates. Look at the stat sheets. Natural talent? Bench warmer? Cheerleader? Most Improved? Most Valuable? There are all kinds of players in this game. I’ve tried to often to be both the game’s hero and referee– letting go without letting go, playing while regulating.
There’s a reason we call it FALLING in love. It ain’t exactly pretty and is often a bit scary. But falls can be confident. I’m learning to practice the patience to gain that confidence. I’m very good at falling hard and clumsily. And being a bit of an emotional clutz is ironic given that I always feel most comfortable as quarterback or point guard; not so much because I am calling the shots, but because I like the idea of people depending on me. I believe some are born to lead and quite naturally have charismatic and intellectual powers to be sufficiently persuasive. We are control freaks. Map out a play, predict the trajectory, SCORE! We are uncomfortable when we’ve mapped the perfect plan and it doesn’t work because it goes against our protective perfectionist tendencies. But there is a defense. The defense seizes the vulnerabilities of the offense as testimony of our imperfection. Evidence of God rests with our imperfections. We sometimes get hard lessons so that we are reminded to stop playing God. Loving is necessarily risky and exposes our softest most hopeful parts. There are no guarantees. There is no crystal ball. So why risk it?
We risk love because we can. We risk love because we can’t think of anything better to do with a life having so few guarantees. We risk it because tomorrow is not promised. We risk it because even in the thick of our hurt we are reminded of how sweet it felt…at some point…if fleeting… and we are mad it left and want it back. We risk it because there is something in the nature of the human spirit that makes us feel alive in the trying.
We most value breath when it is shortened. We are sometimes not even aware of it until threatened. And what if happiness is like breathing… always there, sometimes threatened, because we’ve taken it for granted. What if the loss of happiness is a reminder that we CAN try all the more vigorously for it rather than give up? When we become attentive to breathing we breathe better… We don’t breathe better by focusing on our huff and puff– the strained and heavy moments. And what if the same is true for happiness? Focus on happiness folks. Do not get lost in the muck of your pain. Embrace the confidence only patience can bring. Be, believe, breathe, be happy. Meditate on happiness. The focus will seduce its increase.
