Happiness or the lack thereof

Why is it so difficult for many of us to find happiness? Just a sliver of joy at times feels like the most difficult thing in the world to obtain. It’s certainly no great feat to stumble upon a basket full of sadness and depression; it requires no herculean effort to break down into a puddle of tears. Everywhere I look in this world, there is a disproportionately large number of people who, on a fairly regular basis, can find very little in their lives about which to smile. That makes me sad; which in turn only exacerbates the very problem that made me sad to begin with. Vicious circle, indeed.

Aren’t we, as human beings, supposed to be inherently happy and optimistic? That’s what I thought for a long time, but it has increasingly gotten more and more difficult to hold on to that idea. How can I? It’s a futile enterprise. I look for genuine happiness; yet, outside of babies and puppies, it’s nowhere to be found. Even those that do seem happy, when examined under the surface, very often you find that they really aren’t that happy at all. It’s a facade. A masquerade. And most of us take part in it on a daily basis. We walk around with fake smiles, belch out disingenuous laughs and move on with our day, not only wanting to fool others into believing that we have our own shit together, but also wanting to believe the lie that everyone else has theirs together as well.

The truth is – nobody really has it all together. We’re all just hanging on by a thread. Grasping for whatever small amount of satisfaction and joy, either true or fictitious, we can on a nearly constant, moment-by-moment basis. If the time ever comes, God forbid, that everything is pulled out from under us and ripped apart, will we still be truly happy? Satisfied and content? Can you live without the people and things with which you’ve surrounded yourself? Those things in which you find your comfort? If not, then you’re not truly happy. Your so-called happiness is totally dependent on external factors. And if that’s true, if you need those material, concrete substances, be they plastic, metal or flesh and bone, then where is your true abstract yet real joy? It’s nowhere. Because it doesn’t exist.

Happiness isn’t real. It, like love, hate, disgust, understanding, envy, lust, greed, respect, appreciation and so-on are figments of our imaginations. We choose to feel these things. And if you can choose to feel something, then how can it be real. Real things are things that exist, whether by your choice or not. Sure it feels real. So does the Transformers movie. But that doesn’t change the fact that it isn’t real. And that it sucks. We force ourselves to feel these things – especially happiness. We’ve evolved to the point where we are expected to be happy. Not only by others, but by ourselves. If we aren’t happy, at least most of the time, then something is wrong with your life. There’s shame attached to feeling anything that doesn’t at least closely resemble happiness.

Aren’t we allowed to feel genuine sadness? Of course we are. But, just like happiness, it isn’t real. It’s something we choose to feel at any given time. We set aside times to feel a certain way. Usually, just as with our happiness, there are external factors which ignite our feelings. Why then do we allow this to happen? Why allow other people or things to dictate our emotions? Why in the world would you willingly give someone else the incredible power of affecting our own moods and emotions? It seems absolutely insane. Perhaps we are all just a bit insane, then. After all, we all do this insane thing. We choose to allow someone to manipulate us into feeling one way or another. And it all ties together. If you give someone the permission to push your “happy button“, then it follows that you’ve also given them unmitigated access to your “sad button“, your “anger button” and so on. Now you aren’t even the boss of yourself. You’re essentially a puppet – with several puppet masters. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a puppet show, but it’s an incredibly complex thing, to properly manipulate a puppet. Yet it’s something that, if it is to be done properly and with any measure of success, must be done by one person alone. You try giving three, four, five people control over one puppet at the same time, and the results are bound to be disastrous. Each master has his own plans, his own designs, his own attitude as to how the puppet should move. And so the puppet is pulled in all different directions, all at once, and looks less like a carefully controlled being and more like some thing from parts unknown, which is in the process of having several convulsions. Not pretty. You, along with all the other people to whom you have granted access to your emotions, are all fighting for control. A tempest.

And so what? Keep to yourself and say to hell with the whole bloody world? Allow only yourself to decide where and when and why to choose to feel happy? Or sad? Or afraid? Why not? It must be easier. One puppet, in control of his own strings. What about God? Is He the ultimate puppet master? Or Satan? I don’t believe that’s the case. I think more likely we are given the free will to do as we please, and live with our own decisions and their consequences. Problem is, mankind as a whole isn’t the brightest species on the planet. We like to think we are. But we’re the ones who willingly invite pain and sadness into our lives – freely and without a fight. Sounds pretty simple and stupid to me. How about we just shutoff our emotions altogether? I mean if they’re not real, then that must be an option. Yet, this is what science calls a psychopath – and nobody wants to be called a psychopath. Sure, it could be fun at parties; but it’s probably a detriment when it comes to finding a job or a potential mate.

I guess choosing to not be a psychopath, if that is indeed something which can be chosen, leaves us with only one option: to continue on the same way we’ve been going since the beginning. I mean, I don’t know. I’m human too. At least, I think I am. Therefore. Or something like that. How difficult is it to choose to be happy most of the time? Rather than choosing to be worried, sad, angry or whatever else most of the time. We love to be stressed, disappointed and clenched-fisted so often simply because those are strong emotions. They manifest themselves physically far easier than the soft, wimpy emotions such as happiness and love and contentment. And so those feelings of negativity are always hiding just under the surface, ready to boil over – given the opportunity…or justification. Scary thought. Pessimistic, this is. Well, is pretend happiness better than real anger? Keep them in check. See a therapist. Drink a Coke.

Moving

I hate moving. It’s such a pain. Looking for boxes, packing up all your stuff, transporting things back and forth. Then unpacking all your stuff, finding a new place for everything, getting rid of the boxes. It’s ridiculous; it really is. I mean there are moving companies that can do most of it for you, but do you really trust them with everything? But even besides that. The whole process of looking for a new place, deciding on the area in which you wish to live, the type of home into which you wish to move, finding out if anything is available in your preferred places, and if not, possibly settling for something you’re not so excited about.

I mean there are circumstances when you might look forward to moving, and that tends to make the moving process a little less annoying. There can be high levels of excitement, as a matter of fact. Getting a fresh start, meeting new people, possibly getting a new job; these can make moving worth the effort. I don’t know that it completely offsets the negative aspects of moving, but as I said, it can possibly make it a bit more tolerable. I still hate the actual physical act of moving, though. I myself have moved so many times over the years, you’d think I’m an expert at it, and have it down to a science. It’s not so simple, though.

I suppose the most difficult part is the mental aspect of it, especially if you’re talking about a “big” move. Like moving to another city, island, state, country, whatever. Gearing yourself up for it and actually committing to do it can be a real hurdle. Convincing yourself that it’s the right move to make, that you are prepared for it, and that you can handle all the pressure that comes with starting over. Does starting over several times make it any easier when you attempt to do it again? I really don’t think it does. It’s not easy to just pick up and leave a place you’ve been in for a long time, and forget about everything you knew. It can be really scary, actually.

I suppose it’s not a smart thing to live a nomadic lifestyle, always going from place to place. But what if you’re looking for something? Even if you’re not sure what it is. You have to keep looking, I think. Some may say it’s better to just pick a place and stay there, settle for less than what you want if you have to. I don’t agree with that. Not at all. I’m not saying that being a nomad is actually a good idea, but I think if you’re unhappy with your station in life, why stay there? Because of society’s conventions? Because it’s what other people do? That’s not good enough for me. We all deserve to be happy, but we don’t all actually believe that we deserve to be happy. Some settle for mediocrity because that’s all they feel they are worth. They never try because they don’t see the point, I guess.

It may be a case of bad experiences, it may be a case of never receiving support from parents, it may be a case of plain old low self-esteem. But whatever it may be, it should not be accepted. We have to seek out what we want in life. If your current situation isn’t doing it for you, then a change must be necessary. Now granted, change can be a difficult thing. Even if it’s for the better, some people struggle with change. Once they’ve become used to a particular routine in their life, even if it makes them miserable, they refuse to make adjustments. I think some people look at it as a form of weakness. I suppose I fail to see how being uncomfortable and miserable makes you strong. Obviously I’m not condoning just picking up and taking off whenever things get rough; that doesn’t work. But that is a different situation. I mean if you yourself are just unhappy with where you are in life. If you long for more, if you have unfulfilled hopes and dreams. Why let them die?

I don’t think it can ever be too late to make such a change; or at least make an attempt at it. Isn’t it really better to try and fail than to never try and wonder “what if”? That’s an old cliché, but it seems to me it’s as true a statement as ever. Even if you fail, what’s to stop you from trying again? Common sense says you should try again, because at least now you’ve learned a little more (hopefully), and can avoid making the same mistakes twice. Although, even if you do make mistakes again, I still think it might be better than to make the huge mistake of not trying at all.

I don’t think anyone wants to die with regrets. Especially in cases when you could have done something about it and just didn’t. Kids tend to not like to eat vegetables. What do we tell them? “You never know unless you try”. So what’s the difference between that and making a change in your life? We mustn’t let fear dictate how we live our lives. If the choice is being unhappy or doing something we are afraid of doing, why choose to be unhappy? Let me say that again why choose to be unhappy? There’s no logic in such a choice. I do realize that much of our unhappiness is simply a state of mind, and some people say you can choose to be happy no matter where you are or whatever the circumstances. I think we can choose to not be completely miserable and disagreeable, but quite often it simply takes a change of scenery to refresh our zest for life. And, yes, “the grass is always greener”, I get that. But that can’t always be the excuse for not moving. Sometimes, the grass is actually greener; or it may be that the grass isn’t necessarily greener at the moment, but your touch can help it achieve said colorfulness.

I still hate moving. But I also accept that it can be a natural part of life. We all want to find a place to settle down and live happily ever after, but for some of us, the search takes much longer than others. I don’t want to be remembered as someone who always moved and never tried to take root; I would rather be remembered as someone who kept looking and trying until he found where he belonged. If you are currently at that place, God bless you. I am not. But I’m looking; and if that means being a nomad for a while, so be it. I’m not content with unhappiness. And you shouldn’t be either, and neither of us should expect the other to be.