The Pursuit of Happiness

I’m not sure about happiness. What I mean is, it’s a difficult thing to define outright. If you find a twenty dollar bill lying on the sidewalk, you’re certainly going to be happy. Of course sometimes, for no reason, you could be just sitting there, inexplicably happy. Call it a rush of endorphins, call it a moment of clarity or peace. The point is, I’ll be damned if I can explain it or define it.

And yet we all pursue it. It’s practically a state religion, this pursuit of happiness. We value it so much because it can mean so many things. Financial wealth and success- happiness. The pitter patter of little feet- happiness. A satisfying job- happiness. The freedom to make choices and change- happiness. We guarantee ourselves the right to pursue and often the means to accomplish these things. At the end of the day- at the end of our lives- we wish to be happy. If you’re happy and you know it … well, you know how it goes.

This is no mere rant on an emotional state. I actually have a reason to be thinking about happiness. A few months ago, I had a thought while driving home from work. I didn’t know what to do about it then, so, ever-procrastinating, I tucked it away for later. The thought was this: I am happy.

Terrifying, isn’t it? What do you do when you realize that? You’re happy, at peace, feelin’ fine, all’s quiet on the western front. Job? Good. Money? I’m not wealthy, but it’s not a worry. Family? Love’em. Friends? Couldn’t ask for better ones. If things were going any better they’d involve an Italian nymphomaniac housekeeper and a few other details I’m not quite sure I’d like to share here.

But I digress. The point is that I am not unhappy in my current situation and in fact have a great many things about which to be glad. I suppose the reason that this thought terrified me so much is the feeling that perhaps I was doing something incorrectly. Everybody is bustling about, pursuing happiness and what not, and here I had found it at sunset in a ’96 Ford Contour that had no business still being on the road.

And if the ultimate goal is happiness, than surely one should do everything to hold onto it once one has found it. It would be foolish to let it go. A very good friend of mine has taken just that attitude: he likes what he’s doing and how he’s doing it, and so he’ll continue, making improvements here and there. At 22 he’s found a good life and he’s sticking to it. Lucky man, to be sure.

So why am I not like that? Why am I willing to chuck it all and start anew somewhere else? What’s more, why am I eager to do so? I’ve decided it’s because I know where my happiness comes from. A twenty dollar bill on the sidewalk is only twenty dollars, but that feeling of luck and serendipity is rare and valuable. The pitter patter of little feet probably annoys as many people as it elates, but for some it gives a sense of continuity and importance. A great job and great money are meaningless without a sense of accomplishment and pride. And to look around you and feel alright with the world may have very little to do with the world itself and more to do with how you’re seeing it. If you’re looking at it right you can be happy anywhere, and it is for that reason that you should try to be happy- anywhere.

Besides, maybe it’s the pursuit of happiness we most enjoy. If you’re happy and you know it … maybe that’s just a good start.