Old and Happy

I don’t remember when I decided to be happy—it must be many years ago. Even when out house burnt down in 2010 and our lives were filled with the most acute stress, I still managed to be cheerful most of the time.

Of course it helps to have a wonderful family, a satisfying career and a home high in the Rocky mountains surrounded by nature. But these treasures are fruits of a life well-lived, not the reasons for true happiness.

When I was a rather miserable young man, I had no idea what it meant to be other than gloomy. I had periodic bouts of satisfaction and pleasure but fully believed that moderate contentment was the best life could offer. I was wrong.

Through my spiritual practice (Subud), I’ve discovered a glowing ember of joy deep inside. I feel it whenever I get over myself and enter that place of surrendered stillness. It is always there; I only need to make an intention to get quiet and receive. Tending that glow gives it air and fuel and it often bursts into a shimmering flame of happiness. Joy on the inside; happiness on the outside.

Don’t get me wrong: getting older is hard. My body aches, my memory is a bit slippery, I need to take naps, and I’m ever more distressed by the state of the world and what we humans do to each other and the earth. Being alive is painful, but that doesn’t mean I can’t or shouldn’t be happy.  In any moment, I can at least make the intention to try to connect to happiness.

I still struggle with old patterns. Certain of my negative attitudes and emotions easily get triggered. In times of stress, they rise fast, grab my consciousness and obstruct that clear channel to inner joy. Without that connection, I am lost at sea without a rudder.

What helped most was when I recognized and named the worst disruptive energy: Irritable Impatience, or I-I for short. Now I remind myself to watch out for and understand the reasons for I-I. When frustration escalates, I try to head it off at the pass—or at least let it go as quickly as I can. Then I can reconnect to my inner nature.

As a therapist, my intention has always been to help clients experience a similar process of recognition and letting go. I see too much despair, anxiety and trauma, so it’s essential to nurture the hope of happiness in those I work with.

It is also not helpful if I personally succumb to despondency and anxiety—in fact I think of it as a kind of self-indulgence. Misery is seductive and easy because it’s all about Me (with a capital M); happiness is harder because it’s all about not-me. Not-me is everything beyond my small self—transcendent presence (God), loving relationships, the natural world and service to others.

Happiness is an orientation, a vibrant way of being, a flash of interest and engagement with everything we experience. It is also a gift. When we smile, joke and laugh, we invite others to join us so they too can feel the sparkle of joy. Our enjoyment is contagious, a benign infection that we should generously spread around like an uncommon warmth (not the common cold)!

So how do I personally nurture happiness? Of course, basic self-care is essential. However, we all have available a greater resource: practices that help us connect to inner quiet and openness. These could be meditation, prayer, a walk in nature or even doing nothing on purpose.

Each morning, I do my own spiritual practice. When my mind is quiet and my heart relatively peaceful, I ask to receive an inner feeling for three questions: How should I be today?  What is most important for me to do today?  What is this day for? I like this last question as the feeling/response I get is often quite unexpected.

I aim to capture one or two-word spontaneous hints in response to these questions, though sometimes I cannot quite name the feeling. Then I write those words on a big whiteboard so I see them by glancing up while I work. Naturally, I often get distracted, so seeing those words remind me to stay close to the inner quality of the day.

Whenever I am not actively focused on something, I tend to sing out loud. One of the few benefits of age is not caring what others think of me, so I let rip whenever I feel like it (my wife is very tolerant). Spontaneous words and music reflect my heartfelt gratitude for being alive. Singing has the two-fold benefit of conveying and enhancing a feeling of wellbeing—it is hard to be self-absorbed when you give full voice to a cheesy song.

I have other helpful habits, but of course, the most important is the practice of loving. It’s taken most of my lifetime to realize the full power and beauty of that much maligned and overused word, Love. I cannot do justice to this profound subject, but I’ll just say that for me love is happiness and happiness is love. The more we love ourselves, others and the world, the more our inner joy permeates our outer experience. That is happiness.