Instead
of starting with an abstract definition of happiness, let us first
look at what it is that makes us happy in the first place. Is it a
new wardrobe, an electronic gadget, a new car, or an unlimited supply
of sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll? Seeing that most of these items are
materialistic in nature, why not simply bribe our way through life
with money? Would that ensure happiness? Can money actually buy us
happiness?
In
fact, (a sufficient deal of) money does seem to make us happy. It
puts a smile on our face (imagine finding a bundle of large bills on
the street or suddenly obtaining a windfall); it enables us to pick
up gourmet foods (and partners?); it opens up a host of activities
and hobbies that are denied to many others, such as paragliding or
traveling around the world.
Yet
there is an obvious shortcoming connected to the word happiness
itself. It does indeed apply to those situations above. Who can say
with a straight face that they categorically do not enjoy sex or that
they gladly refuse all types of drugs (I am including coffee,
cigarettes, and chocolate on this list, Mormons excluded of course)?
When
we describe happiness, what we are talking about most of the time is
actually gratification. We gratify our desires, which in turn gives
us pleasure. Sex and drugs are good examples here; they give us
gratification for a while, but there remains a spot that is never
filled or satisfied; an itch that cannot be scratched; a part that
seems to be constantly on the run from the grasp of happiness.
What
to do then? It may turn out that the type of happiness we are talking
about keeps eluding us because we simply do not have the right word
designed for - or rather assigned to - it. We may feel trapped in our
lack of words in the English language the same way a non-Eskimo
purportedly lacks the vocabulary to perceive the slightly variations in a snowstorm. So lacking vocabulary, we have simply a
feeling of unease, a certain seemingly unscratchable itch which we do
not know the cause of and for which we lack the remedy.
Since
we are obviously at odds here, let us borrow a term from the ancient
Greeks, those who are mainly responsible for putting us on this path
of self-consciousness more than two thousand years ago. We stumble
upon Aristotle and his views on (true) happiness, which he calls
eudaimonia (often translated as "human flourishing," while Socrates might prefer the term “good demon”).
As
we can see the idea of flourishing is much more dynamic and not
merely a particular moment, outcome or desire along the scales of
time. It cannot be pinpointed precisely as it is in constant bloom
(although interestingly the Greeks did assign a certain moment as the
climax of one's intellectual accomplishments, as they often ignore
the birth and death of an individual and simply state that, for
example, Euclid flourished at around 300 BC, while my own flourishing
probably took place at around age 16).
In
this sense, the emphasis on change and transformation is a rather
Buddhist idea similar to the blooming of the lotus flower floating on
a grey lake of Mayan ignorance. The thing is true happiness is not
(nor can it be) a snapshot or a moment of bliss; it is (or rather
should be) a lifetime of joy. It is like moving from the aesthetic
self-absorbed (Kierkegaard's first) level to the higher realms of the
ethical and / or religious sphere.
Suddenly,
we are shifting from a materialistic framework, of that which can be
accessed with - and is generally within the reach of - money to a
more (for a lack of better words) spiritual view on happiness.
Imagine the Buddha after years of mindful meditation, after
struggling with demons (not the Socratic ones but the really bad guys
with rotten teeth and worse intentions) and all this time the man
once known as Siddhartha Gautama is nourishing the growing and
glowing light within, in the process of releasing the ego of its
human-made shackles (freeing Siddhartha from himself) and finally
reaching that sublime and wonderful peak of enlightenment.
After
a moment or two of exultation and unspeakable bliss, he might ask
himself the following question: Now what? And that is exactly the
point here. Every time we overcome a hurdle, every time we smell and
taste the delicious flavor of success; every time we have satisfying
sex or get that long-awaited raise, there is a push for something
else, something more, something different.
And
our lives are spent in those myriad moments that we label crudely as
either happy or sad, but it is their complementary combination, their
complexity, their final culmination or tally that may give us true
and lasting happiness, the state of eudaimonia.
For
Aristotle, happiness and virtue are permanently entwined in intimate
ways. Virtue could be seen as the reign on instant gratification via
the controlling faculties of reason. For example, you may have a
wonderful and happy union with your wife, and there is suddenly the
chance of the gratification of an instant and often hidden desire.
Sure,
it would make you happy, at least momentarily, to engage in an
illicit and pleasure-giving activity with another woman, but at the
same time it is the unethical or “wrong” thing to do. You would
put in jeopardy your continuous time-stretching shot at lasting
happiness for the irrational mad pleasure of a single instance. So
the voice of reason in this case sounding like a faded version of
your parents will (hopefully!) steer you away from “temptation”
and put you back into the arms of your wife, on the long and winding
road of eudaimonia.
Yes,
happiness is not a case of winning the lottery or even fulfilling our
dreams; it is rather a continuous patient quest for fulfillment, for
growth, for virtue. To give a quasi-mathematical illustration here,
tally up all your sexual partners and they will not add up to the
love of your one and only steadfast partner.
Eudaimonia
or the Buddhist outlook on happiness may be less thrilling and less
fun and involve work through dedication and discipline compared to
the deliciously impulsive, blind and wild passion; yet eudaimonia
will flourish under the temperate climate of the Mediterranean coast
and make you truly happy over the long haul, of course.
1 comment:
I would have responded earlier, dear Arash, but your post got me brooding for several days and has ended up in a post of my own which I'm about to publish (with acknowledgement of yours of course). It's far from being the first time that this has happened, as you know.
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