The answer: Happiness.
As long as you are looking for happiness, you will never find it. Happiness can never be had on ones own terms. Happiness is always a gift.
Too often, especially over the past couple of months, I've been inclined to think about what I want and what will make me happy. "I've got to work on developing good relationships with other people, because that will make me happy." "I think I'll write a blog post, because then other people will read it and tell me how good it is, and that will give me satisfaction." "Living in London should make me happy." "I'd better pray I get accepted to work ND Vision this summer, because that will be really fun and will make me happy." But time and time again I am reminded that none of these things are going to still the restlessness in my heart. Human expectations always seem to be disappointed.
So I have to ask, "What's the point?" What is the point in living for oneself? What is the point in meeting people, if you only care about them because they re-affirm your own feeling of self-worth? What's the point in writing, if all you care about is how many people read what you've written? There are so many other people in the world: it would be a shame to limit yourself to thinking about just one. Happiness may be the final cause of all our actions, the only thing it makes sense to seek in its own right. Yet, somehow I can't make sense of my life if happiness for myself is all I'm trying to get. It is a paradox indeed.
Yet, when I least expect it, happiness comes barging in. Some of my favorite moments over the past week have been just wandering around London, with absolutely no expectations about what was going to happen. I enjoyed every minute. Today, fighting against the lazy side of me, I went for a run around Battersea park. It was absolutely wonderful. The autumn smell was in the air, and leaves were starting to accumulate on the ground. There was a strong, cool breeze along the Thames and throughout the park. It reminded me of playing high school soccer, of childhood romance, and of back home in Michigan and Indiana. I felt free. I felt a part of the wind, and the air, and the season. Song after great song came on my iPod, and they sounded fresh to my ears, lacking the stale quality over-repetition brings. Their melodies vaguely brought back associated happy memories. As I crossed the Thames to go head back to my dwelling, the sun stood just right behind the clouds and over a distant bridge, making a picturesque urban scene. I was happy. It came when I wasn't looking.
I like this one. I too am reminded of a few runs I did in high school and of my drive through the Ozarks this past summer. It was great. Happiness does come when you don't expect it, but there is also the part in which you have to plan for it. Driving home this summer, I could have taken the interstate the whole way and missed the beauty of the back roads (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=72k7xWfjTXc), but instead I took the opportunity to take the long way home. There is a degree to which it takes initiative on our part, like when you chose to go for a run.
ReplyDeleteAlso, I have been reading a pretty good book called "Happiness and Contemplation" by Joseph Pieper which is considerably based on Aquinas who bases much of his work on Aristotle. The main argument of the book is their argument that our ultimate happiness is contemplation of the divine, and is not completely attainable here in this life, as you stated in your opening riddle.
Finally, past happy moments cannot always be repeated. Circumstances play a role. For instance, in the fifth week of my SSLP, I was staying with a family in a little town just outside Omaha called Neola, IA. One day after work I decided to take a drive on one of the dirt roads on the backside of the town because it was a beautiful day. It was an amazing experience with a gorgeous view, and you could see for miles. When the eight weeks ended and I was leaving to drive home, I decided to quickly pull off the road and take that drive again, but it wasn't the same. That day was focused on another day and another drive and my detour was only taking time away. I wanted to experience that moment again, but there are times in life when we must move on. We cannot live in the present by trying to recreate the past. We may only remember the past and its fun times that shaped us into the people we are today. So, to some extent, they aren't gone, but a part of us.