The Key to Happiness

I completely agree with this week's quote: "The key to happiness comes from within."

Or, as Monty Python's Four Yorkshiremen had it, "Money doesn't buy you happiness, son." I know from seeing and reading countless stories on social media and elsewhere, that material goods are not the key to happiness - they may make you feel good for a moment, but true happiness is an inside job.

At the same time, the relationship between material well-being and happiness is not quite that simplistic. If we are short of the necessaries of life - food, shelter, physical safety, someone to love and be loved by, happiness can be hard to find. I see far too many horrible stories about families having to choose between paying for food and paying for heating, particularly at this time of year. Which is an obscenity, in this country (or anywhere else, frankly) when the top few in the human hierarchy have money and material possessions in abundance, and pay their accountants to exploit loopholes in the taxation laws, while a large minority are starving, and either homeless or living in (very) sub-standard accommodation (often owned by that rich top few). There is far too much inequality in the world.

Yet I still believe that the key to happiness does come from within. Because the only thing we can control is how we respond to the circumstances we find ourselves in. Our reactions, our emotions, are the key to inner happiness. I hold up my hand and admit that I am very privileged - I live in a nice house, have all the material possessions I could possibly desire, and time to enjoy them. I have a close family and a few good friends. So I have plenty to be happy about. And I am, by and large.

I think the key to happiness is appreciation - being aware of all the good things we do have, and not wasting time yearning about the (unimportant) material goods we don't have. Which takes a certain level of self-awareness and a strong desire not to be seduced by the advertising / marketing industries into wanting random stuff, just because we've seen an advert on Facebook. (For the last couple of months, I keep seeing adverts for lovely Christmas jumpers and think, "Oh, I'd love one of those." I have to keep reminding myself that I already own a perfectly good Christmas jumper, which has served me well for years. And that is only one, tiny, insignificant example). It is far too easy to buy stuff these days - one click and you're committed.

So let's appreciate what we have, and commit to helping those less fortunate than ourselves.

Here and Now

This week's quote has some simple advice, which most of us find really difficult to follow. It reads, "Learn from the past, dream of the future, but live here and now."

Far too many of us (me included) either regret the past, or tinsel-wrap it with the fake memories which are nostalgia, looking back to a golden time which never really existed. Learning from the past, learning from our mistakes and experiences, is a taller order, and it can be tempting to simply walk away. 

And we dream of a future in which all our problems will magically dissolve into the aether, leaving us blissfully happy. Or we fixate on a particular day which is coming "soon" and spend all our emotional and spiritual energy longing for it, forgetting to live in the meantime.

What we don't do enough of, in my opinion, (and I'm speaking personally here) is to "live here and now". To wake up each morning and resolve to make *this* day a good one, to the best of our ability. To be awake, aware of the possibilities of the day as it unfolds, to appreciate the good things as they happen, to find the strength within ourselves to stand fast in our truth when things go awry.

Whenever I find myself either stuck in the past or impatient for the future, I remember the wonderful words attributed to the Sanskrit poet, Kalidasa:

"Look to this day!

For it is life, the very life of life.

In its brief course lie all the verities

and realities of your existence:

the bliss of growth,

the glory of action,

the splendour of beauty;

For yesterday is but a dream,

and tomorrow is only a vision;

but today, well lived, 

makes every yesterday a dream of happiness

and every tomorrow a vision of hope.

Look well, therefore, to this day."

Look well, therefore, to this day. 

Dancing in the Rain

This week's quote reads, "The art of living consists in dancing in the rain instead of waiting for the sun."

On a metaphorical level, I couldn't agree more. Now is always the time to get out and do what makes you happy, regardless of the whatever else is going on. Procrastination "I'll do it when I feel more confident / I've lost ten pounds / I have an entire free day / I've finished my work / make up your own excuse" is not only the thief of time, it is also the thief of happiness. Sometimes, the right thing to do is to drop everything and simply dance in the rain. Which stands for any spontaneous action which brings us joy.

The "waiting for the sun" is the toxic part of the quote. Because, let's face it, our lives will never be perfect, never be ideal. Most of us will be able to come up with a dozen 'good reasons' for not doing something new, something brave, without even having to scratch our heads very hard. It's never quite the 'right time'.

It takes a lot of courage, and a good dollop of the willingness to be vulnerable, and a certain amount of faith, to dance in the rain - to risk trying something new, that we've never done before, that we're not sure about. But being brave, being vulnerable, having faith in ourselves, in the universe, is how we grow into our best selves.

But on a literal level, I have issues. I hate being wet through... And yes, I appreciate the truth of the saying, "there is no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing." I'm quite happy to walk in cold weather, bundled up in warm coat, hat, scarf and gloves. It is invigorating. But walking in the rain (let alone dancing in it) is not my bag. Especially now I wear glasses all the time. Call me a wuss, but that is one occasion I'd rather "wait for the sun". I have done it, and will doubtless do it again, but it's not my favourite thing to do.