I’m at work, about to
lead a session based on the title of Naomi Shihab Nye’s wonderful poem, “So
Much Happiness.” It’s the day between my
parents’ deaths, for although they died 27 years apart, Dad died December 23
and Mom on Christmas. It’s been long enough that I’ve reclaimed the holidays
and don’t experience grief, but I’m not sure I’m thoroughly happy either. That’s
probably why I volunteered to work today, to free up someone with children or
greater access to the joys of the holidays.
And yet
today is the only day I can ever access happiness. There’s a line in a sacred text I read
regularly, “We are sure God wants us to be happy, joyous, and free.” Why would
that be? What’s the benefit of being as happy as possible? Every time this text
mentions cheerfulness or joy, it’s linked to service. When I’m happy, I’m most
useful to others. Since joy is the most efficient fuel, I’m also most
productive; what’s unnecessary disappears from my view and I don’t fret about
anything I’m not getting done.
Happiness is
contingent on my level of presence, something my meditation practice has helped
me to recognize when it wanes. Outside of this moment, I get anxious, critical,
and unsatisfied when I’m even slightly in the past or the future. And while
that’s human nature and something I’m going to be noticing for the rest of my
days, I would rather just serenely allow the moment to unfold.
I’m grateful
I can recognize the signs when I run from the present. For me, overeating signals
living outside this moment because my body sends cues when it’s full and doesn’t
want more, but my addictive mind continues compulsively on. What am I afraid
will happen if I stop eating when- I’m full? Or wait until I’m truly hungry to
eat? What new territory of emptiness would I traverse? Today I’m ready to
discover that.
Do you have
something that challenges your integrity that could become the greatest gift
for becoming more present? Do you do something you’d rather not or not as
often? Just for today I will take a deep breath before I put something in my
mouth--even a sip of water--to disrupt the habit. In that space I will ask “what
do I really want?” That question, after
all, is the route to happiness. If I can ask, listen, and then act on the
answer, I not only head toward joy, it’s my companion for the entire journey.
