Most of us have heard the almost omnipresent song ?Happy? by Pharrell Williams. I saw it on the Oscars. I saw it on Saturday Night Live. And I hear it everywhere. Don?t get me wrong. I really like the tune and the feel of it. There?s a reason it?s caught the attention of so many. Lately, it?s made me think about my own experience of happiness. The chorus/hook of the song runs:
Because I?m happy
Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof
Because I?m happy
Clap along if you feel like happiness is the truth
Because I?m happy
Clap along if you know what happiness is to you
Because I?m happy
Clap along if you feel like that?s what you wanna do.
I?m not trying to be the happiness police here. I do want to think out loud here about how the assumptions about happiness in this lyric haven?t always worked so well for me.
I?m invited to clap along if I feel ?like a room without a roof.? Maybe that?s a metaphor for feeling free, without limits, or perhaps that I can see the blue sky from where I am. That?s nice. But I?ve talked about freedom before (in ?An Unexpected Path to Freedom? and ?Freedom is Harder Than It Looks?. There are ways of spending freedom so that I have less, and ways of investing freedom so that I have more in the future. Too many of my impulsive ?free choices? in the moment have been the former. I thought I?d find lasting happiness in something I ate, or experienced, or possessed, but these outward attempts at happiness are always so fleeting.
The lyric goes on to invite my amen if ?I feel like happiness is the truth.? When my reality is measured only in terms of what I feel would make me happy right now, I so often make bad choices. This has become much more plain to me in this Lenten season. I?ve told a few friends that I?m finding Lent to be a time when I?m saying a few little noes so I can soon say a heartier yes. My noes, for example, to eating in the evening or playing my favorite video games during Lent have exposed how often I turn to these when I feel bored, anxious or insecure. I seem to believe that I will feel ?happy? if I engage in these pleasures in the moment. The truth is that choosing that late night snacking or escaping into video games is a closed door for me has enabled me to wait, and to have a broader perspective on what really makes me happy.
The problem with ?happiness is the truth? is that there are too many impulses in any of us to the effect of ?I?d be happier if?? The unhappy husband may have the growing thought that he?d be much happier with that cute co-worker at his office. The alcoholic just knows that a little evening drink would help him relax and enjoy. The unscrupulous businessperson is certain that happiness lies in doing whatever it takes, honest or not, to enlarge his bottom line. This ?grass greener on the other side? assumption almost never takes into account the cowpies that are inevitably over there just like over here.
Another line invites us to clap if ?you know what happiness is to you.? We?re back to each individual deciding for themselves, from a usually limited perspective, what makes them happy. Again, Lent is exposing the emptiness of the kind of happiness I seek through eating late evening snacks that my body doesn?t need but that my taste buds enjoy for the fleeting seconds the food is located there. But for hours and days later, I may feel heavier (emotionally and physically) and, therefore, a lot less happy. I have assumed that eating whatever I felt like eating whenever I felt like eating it was what made me happy. Upon reflection, dozens of extra pounds have not made me happy. I presumed that the happiness of the moment was what mattered most to me. I?ve awakened to the reality that choosing something that actually doesn?t make me very happy in the moment can often lead to a more substantial and sustainable happiness. (And gluttony is one of those sins that few are campaigning about).
(We?ll share part two of this article on Thursday).
