"Do you have the patience to wait until your mud settles, and the water is clear? Can you remain unmoving until the right action arises by itself?" - Lao TzuI don’t know why, and I don’t know when it exactly begins, but somehow, we are socialized to believe that happiness depends on the stars aligning, and we subscribe to the notion of a happily-ever-after, whereupon life is supposed to be smooth sailing.
It sounds ridiculous just saying it out loud, but yes, we do this. I’m guilty.
If we could only get into this school, have that job, find a partner, have a family, own a house, get a better car, have a different body. It’s usually something beyond our reach—that over there. That’s what we need. That’s what we think would make us happy. Always that, never this. And once we get that, it turns into this, and this is okay for a while, but eventually it isn’t good enough, and we are back to searching for the next shiny thing we are sure will make us happy.
The problem is we have an insatiable appetite for more. Our desires exponentially multiply, and we become blind to what is right in front of us. We are caught in a cycle of suffering, chasing our tails trying to catch an elusive happiness.
I remember being in a new relationship, thinking if only I could be married with children, then I would know the happiness I had dreamt about since girlhood. My longing could be cured with an engagement ring and the happily-ever-after many of my peers were already having.
In marriage and three children later, I still had an empty feeling lingering inside of me. There was a kernel of desire that swelled with each longing, searching for something more.
Maybe a nicer car or a fancier home would have filled the void and made me happier. I had a laundry list of things I was sure my husband needed to change about himself, which would surely make me happier. There were personal goals to achieve beyond my domestic life. Weight to lose. Always something more. If I could only buy those things, reach those milestones, make those changes, I would finally be happy.
Then, when my husband unexpectedly died and left me a young widow with small children, I longed for the banality of my married life. I would take it back without hesitation and never complain again, even the silly marital squabbles and socks on the floor. I wanted that, not this.
In the middle of a pandemic, now a single mom with school-age children and social distancing cutting me off from society, I longed for those other years, even the ones where I was a sad widow who was terribly self-conscious about the life I didn’t choose. At least I could be sad in a gym, or eating in a restaurant, traveling around the world. Now I was stuck at home and lonely. If only I had those pre-pandemic days back, then I could be happy.
Epicurus said, “Remember that what you now have was once among the things you only hoped for.”
Admittedly, I’ve spent my fair share of time dwelling on what I don’t have. I’ve pined for many things and ignored the dreams that already came true for me.
I’ve had some good reasons to feel wronged by the universe and to feel robbed of my happily-ever-after. Yet none of that time spent complaining and being angry ever made me happier.
This is exactly why our happiness should not be conditional. It is impossible to fulfill every desire at every moment. We can not eliminate human suffering, and circumstances are often not within our control. Life happens. If we wait until the conditions are perfect to be happy, we waste precious, limited time.
On the rare occasion that the stars do perfectly align, the moment will be ephemeral. Life is a shape-shifting, formless experience in a constant state of flow. It is never the same.
Greek philosopher Herclitus said, “No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.”
I wholeheartedly agree. I am not the same person I was fresh out of college. I’m not the same woman my late husband married. I’m not the same widow I was five years ago, and I’m not the same person I was before this global pandemic.
I remember an aunt telling me that she made it her practice to never spend the work week counting the days until Friday. She didn’t want to get caught up with the negativity of constantly watching the clock, living for the weekend while suffering through her job on weekdays.
“One day I’ll be retired and closer to death, and I’ll want to go back to the days when I could work and still had my youth,” she explained.
I never forgot that.
One day this is all going to be over ... read more
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