Happy Living Tip. Literally.

Do you own yourself?

The pursuit of happiness is a national obsession. Everybody wants to be happy. We place tremendous value on the idea of and the quest for happiness. It’s even written into our earliest of historical documents, the Declaration of Independence. Thomas Jefferson certainly knew of what he wrote. The money he spent on wine alone in his first term as president was legendary. (The equivalent of our current president dropping 50 G’s a year on alcohol.)

Happiness: that elusive elixir.

What is happiness? Think about the enormous energy we exert in this effort to feel happy. When we care about someone, we say, “I just want you to be happy.” When things seem uncertain, we tell each other, “As long as you’re happy.” There are many perceived routes to this nebulous but desirable thing, happiness. Many of us fill the void of dissatisfaction in our lives with ever more stuff, succumbing to a desperate cycle of greed and fear. In fact, we could make a pretty compelling case that in America, the pursuit of happiness is simply the pursuit of stuff.

And so, we run to our internal visions of happiness out of fear; we define “being happy” by its opposite, pain. When one defines the other, they are one in the same. Happiness: is it satisfaction, is it self-worth, is it integrity, is it truth, is it security, is it freedom, or is it a big pile of cool crap? If we can even begin to grasp it, can we ever hope to achieve it? And why should we feel so entitled to this “happiness” we all want so desperately? When millions face starvation and death as a matter of course, and we angst over luxurious dilemmas like credit card interest rates and undercooked eggs at Sunday brunch, the pursuit of happiness begins to seem vulgar and juvenile. MLMs. Anti-aging. Weight loss. The Secret. Botox. Therapy. Yoga. Relief. Just whom do we think we are?

Psychologists and the current cool kids in science class who look at how our evolution ostensibly affects our behavior in modern times have already piled up quite the heap of happiness theories. And let’s not forget Oprah.

Happiness may be romantic, but it’s not a right. It may not even be necessary in terms of evolution. And increasingly, evidence suggests that true happiness – that wellspring of inner satisfaction – has more to do with a combination of generic factors and day-to-day trivialities than how much money you make, what you do, or what your station in life is.

I personally think the pursuit of happiness is a touch narcissistic. Of course we ought to wish happiness upon everyone (well, nearly everyone). Focusing on the positive, consciously being grateful, and simply enjoying simple pleasures in daily life are all in my view more effective than wealth or status or achievement or things when it comes to feeling happiness.

The reason I think it’s important to define what we mean by “happiness” is because there are so many levels. Are we talking about daily contentment? Or a deeper, inner feeling of richness? If you have the latter, do you need the former?

My grandfather has led a simple life. He was a truck driver who never went to college. He’s not a particularly handsome man nor does he have a long list of academic or financial achievements trailing behind him. He will never be in any history book nor will his name grace any wall. But what is remarkable about my grandfather is that despite his simple life, people cannot help but to respect him and take him seriously. He is a philosopher of life, incredibly observant and perceptive, and blessed with beautiful judgment. This humble man possesses a quiet strength that needs no justification: he is truly and deeply happy. I’ve always wondered what his “secret” is. As a child I instinctively knew he was the strongest; the most satisfied. I have come to understand that the reason he is happy is because he owns himself. He is fiercely loyal to himself, and from that spring of integrity and truth – even when he makes mistakes – happiness results.

We all remember Thoreau’s famous (and famously muddled) line: “Most men lead lives of quiet despair and go to their graves with their songs still in them.” And it’s true. Do you own yourself? Or does something, someone, some fear, or some life own you?

Read up:

It’s the day to day stuff, silly

Being grateful