If there were in the world today any large number of people who desired their own happiness more than they desired the unhappiness of others, we could have paradise in a few years. — Bertrand Russell
This seems so true to me in so many different ways right now.
It’s easy to see all the ways in which people seem to desire the unhappiness of others, and to actively work toward it. We all, whatever our politics or religion or particular beef with the world, have our litany of things that other people shouldn’t be, shouldn’t do, don’t deserve, and ought to be ashamed of.
And it’s easy to see all the ways in which our culture discourages us from actively seeking our own happiness. It’s selfish to put our own needs ahead of others’. It’s wrong to enjoy things that other people cannot have. It’s better to go along with the party, the church, the family, the crowd, and squeeze ourselves into little one-size-ought-to-be-enough-for-all boxes so that we do not make others uncomfortable. It’s good to make other people happy.
But what about making ourselves happy? When are we taught that our own happiness is fucking essential not just for our survival, but for the survival of others?
I believe that love and fear are the two most powerful forces in the universe. I believe I can trace every choice I make, large or small, back to one or the other. Sometimes the love is the kind that compels me to put my own needs aside; sometimes it’s just the general “golden rule” sort, the social-compact default. Sometimes the fear is the very sensible Run away from the person with the knife kind; but other times, it is fear of difference or risk or having to look too hard at myself, and it disguises itself as common sense, as necessity, or (gods help us) as maturity and duty.
There’s a lot of talk these days about the ways in which parenting is often focused on making the child feel special and “a winner” whether they have done anything worth noting or not. There are certainly a lot of folks who seemingly grow up feeling entitled to praise no matter what; they need it to be “happy,” and we all “deserve to be happy.” Bleh. That’s just a different way of being afraid, a different way of defining our own happiness as something we expect — or demand — from other people. It’s not a very big a step from that to seeking the unhappiness of others when we don’t like their choices, or when they don’t give us the validation that we want.
When we make choices out of that kind of fear — when we demand our happiness from others, or think the only way to win is to prevent their happiness — we die. A little or all the way, in our heart or soul or body. But I want to live. So I’m figuring out these days that my biggest duty is to adjust my own oxygen mask. And I find that the more I focus on making myself happy, the easier it is to share that wealth with others. It turns out that a big part of acting from fear is wanting to make other people feel afraid too; but when I make myself happy, then I’m more ready to help other people make themselves happy as well.
Perhaps that seems obvious or naive to some folks. Oh well. For me, like most simple truths, it turns out to be much deeper on the inside than the outside.
Kelley – yes! yes! yes! to everything you say here. I believe you’re right and that we’re conditioned to focus on others (including making others unhappy) rather than focusing on being happy ourselves and being able to share that.
I’m still, with great humility, learning how to do this. It’s so much *easier* to walk around being critical of others than to take responsibility for knowing what I want and creating that. Incidentally, the book, “What Happy People Know,” is one that I’m currently reading. It echoes what you say here. Nice to see the message reinforced.
First, I just want to say that the blogosphere works in many wondrous ways to make me happy. I can’t, for example, move to Seattle so T and I could have real time discussions with you and N on a regular basis. We can’t come to your block parties, nor go dancing. But the net, lets us do the next best.
BTW, we have been enjoying a wonderful new show on HBO based on Alexandra McCall Smith’s, Number One Detective Agency series. It is providing a great example of how people can be happy and serious and sad and real.
As for fear and love, well, for me it comes down to self. How I feel about myself seems directly related to how much of either of the two I am expressing. The more sure of my self and the life I am living the more control I have of the fear and the more able I am to express the love.
Sorry, Alexander, it was one of those Freudian slip typos.