I have learned from experience that happiness is an
acquired skill. There is always something to
complain about, even in the best of times. Happiness
is not an objective reality so much as a subjective
decision. Chronic complainers miss the boat.
Many people are addicted to suffering and have a mental
habit of pointing out the worst in people or
situations. Not only are they robbing themselves of
joy, but their failure to appreciate all the goodness that
life has to offer actually diminishes all that good.
Both our blessing and our condemnation have power.
Thinking that something is bad has the power to make it so
in our experience.
Children are one of the greatest lessons in happiness,
constantly challenging us to enjoy the moment, as the next
one will not be the same. There is no sense saying
about a small child, "Well, I'll enjoy watching her
at the beach splashing around in the waves, but I'll do it
later, next year or the next year." Next year,
she will not splash around in the same way. Two
years old gives way to three and then four. And
before you know it there is a teenager standing in front
of you who won't even want to go to the beach with
you. You'll wonder where all the years went, but
they will be gone. No more watching her finger
paint. She doesn't finger paint anymore.
|
|
|
I
have lived large parts of my life in wonderful
circumstances that I utterly failed to appreciate.
Reasons to be happy were everywhere, but somehow I didn't
connect with them. It was as though I was eating but
couldn't taste the food. Finally, I've learned to
celebrate the good while it's happening. I feel
gratitude and praise today for what are sometimes such
simple pleasures. I have learned that happiness is
not determined by circumstances. Happiness is not
what happens when everything goes the way you think it
should go; happiness is what happens when you decide to be
happy.
There was a time a few years ago when several members of
my family died in quick succession. It seemed as
though all we did was go to funerals, gathering together
to cry. Then, several years later, Hilary, the
oldest of my late sister's daughters, got married.
Finally, we were gathering not to grieve but to celebrate,
and the gratitude everyone felt was palpable. Every living
member of Hilary's family came to the wedding, from many
places around the world, and all of us knew why. We
would have loved her and celebrated her marriage even if
her mother and her grandfather and her uncle had not
recently died. But everyone knew that the
circumstances of the last few years made this wedding,
this mitzvah, even more important. The event
was so infinitely sweet because it contrasted dramatically
with the bitterness of the previous few years.
So those who have learned to be happy are often those who
have suffered most. When simple pleasures have been
taken away, such as someone's loving smile or encouraging
word, then the next time such pleasures come around--and
the do--we lift our cup of life to them. We sing
God's praises in a way we had never done in the days when
we took so much for granted.
Gratitude is essential to happiness. Developing a
grateful attitude--knowing that every time we arrive
somewhere safely, we have something to be happy about;
every time our children rush up to us and smile, we have
something to be happy about; every time we get out of bed
and can take a deep breath and go out for a walk, we have
something to be happy about--that is the essence of a
happy existence. Happiness is a muscle we must use,
or it will wither away.
Whatever we focus on is bound to expand. Where we
see the negative, we call forth more negative. And
where we see the positive, we call forth more
positive. Having loved and lost, I now love more
passionately. Having won and lost, I now win more
soberly. Having tasted the bitter, I now savor the
sweet.
Several years ago, a friend of mine lived with me during
the final five months of her life. Not completely
understanding the effects of her illness, I kept saying,
"Michelle, you must eat. You're getting too
thin! Eat!" And after she died, I read in
her journal about how "Marianne takes it for granted
that if you eat, you gain weight; if you want to go out
somewhere, you can; and if you want to live past this
year, it's a reasonable proposition." She was
someone who had so little to be happy about, but she
taught me so much about happiness. During those
months, right after the birth of my daughter, I would come
home to find my dying friend with my baby snuggled next to
her. There was a smile of bliss on both of their
faces that I will remember all my days.
|
