We've discussed this here before (e.g. [1] [2]), but here's another worthwhile take, from a former colleague at Yahoo! and a recent silklister.
Thoughts? Udhay [1] http://groups.yahoo.com/group/silk-list/message/4965 [2] http://groups.yahoo.com/group/silk-list/message/37925 http://blog.mizannethrope.com/post/45039337095/happiness-is-pine-sol-and-clorox-and-like-them-both Happiness is Pine Sol and Clorox and Like Them Both, Probably Toxic in Large Quantities Happiness. There are a lot of books written on this topic. I know because I’ve read them all. ALL of them. This is a matter that mankind has pursued throughout time. It’s fundamental to our very existence. It’s what separates us from the beasts of the wild. What is happiness? How do we get it? If we have it, how do we keep it? Or more precisely, how do we prevent ourselves from losing it? When we have it, how do we know we have it? I started seeing a therapist when my mother was diagnosed with advanced stomach cancer. I probably should have started years earlier. Years. Maybe at birth. One of the first things she asked me was, “What makes you happy?” I kind of stumbled when she asked that so she rephrased the question. “Can you tell me a time, recently, when you felt really happy?” After sitting there for a moment, I said the first thing that popped into my head. That’s what you are supposed to do in therapy, right? Not over-think the question but rather, respond naturally so you reveal your true self. So I told the unedited, unvarnished, unmitigated truth. Or as Oprah would say, I told MY truth. So here it is. I am happiest when…. “The hour after the cleaning people leave my house. When everything is clean, orderly, and smells like Pine Sol. That’s when I am happiest.” You know you’ve achieved something when your therapist looks a little puzzled. I joke all the time about being OCD. In reality, I do not suffer from obsessive-compulsive disorder. At least not in a clinically diagnosable way. I really shouldn’t joke about it because plenty of people really do have debilitating issues associated with OCD. I am just a freak about tidiness and thus, my Twitter handle: @clean_freak. Many people apparently take me at face value. Ergo, some of my Twitter followers include: @scrubblingbubble, @cleanercleaning, @abhousekeeping, @goofoffpro (a cleaning agent, apparently), @acepressurewash, and @bugoffseatcover. I will readily admit that the smell of cleaning products makes me feel, well, happy. Those same products are probably going to give me brain cancer. Although to be clear, I’m not sniffing them in open containers like gasoline or airplane glue. The smell of cleaning products just gives me a weird feeling of comfort when I’m cleaning or otherwise at home. Like all things revealed in therapy, this too, can be traced back to my mother. My very Korean mother. Margaret Cho does a great routine about her Korean mother. After her mom suffered a heart attack, she came to live with Margaret. Her mother told her about her near-death experience. In broken English, she said to Margaret, “After I die, my spirit float out my body. I float far, far away. I go you house. I look down. Ay-gu! Why so messy?” And that folks, is probably what my mother is doing right now. Looking down at my house today and thinking, “Ay-gu! Why so messy?” (Because I was away on a business trip for 5 days, mom! Don’t judge me!) But to get back to my earlier point, what is happiness anyway? I think my initial response to my therapist hit the nail on the head. Happiness is not some big, grand destination. Or even some fanciful life-long journey. It’s the sum of all the little things. For me, it’s crystallized in that moment of peace and serenity when everything is just-so. In a house with 3 dogs and 3 kids, it’s rare. It’s the calm sense of accomplishment I feel when I am getting things done. Not huge things. Little things. I remember when I was in school, I’d get incredibly stressed during exams. I always thought I’d feel so relieved when they were over. But the moment I turned in my last test, the feeling of lightness I thought I’d have never materialized. Or if it did, it was never as uplifting as I imagined it would be. The quest for happiness seldom results in a sustainable sense of overwhelming joy. If it comes, it usually lasts only for a fleeting moment. And really, if you felt happy all the time, how would you know what it is to be happy? There is a beautiful passage in The Prophet - The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain. Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven? I read that to mean that to truly experience happiness, you must experience deep sorrow. Which to me, means that you can’t be happy all the time. It’s not possible and it’s not even desirable. Take pleasure in the little things and stop looking for the “HAPPINESS,” all-caps. Be happy with “happy,” lowercase. And understand that sadness (or in my case, a messy house, or on a whole different scale, the recent death of my mother) is what makes knowing happiness possible. -- ((Udhay Shankar N)) ((udhay @ pobox.com)) ((www.digeratus.com))
