Happiness is Overrated
Here’s what to pursue instead.
Not too long ago,
I was floating in the crystal-clear Pacific Ocean, the water lapping
against my back and saltwater seeping into and out of my pores, the
hypnotic rush of the waves providing the back-beat for the symphony of
seagulls. I didn’t notice. My body was in the water — my mind was
somewhere else.
I spent nearly all of 2017 sinking into a black hole of rage and sadness. I spent the year crisscrossing the country hoping my demons wouldn’t follow me. They did.
I ran a marathon in Orlando. I spent springtime in New York. I saw the
Cubs in Chicago. I saw Kendrick Lamar in Phoenix. I spent a secret
weekend in Seattle. I took my mom to New Orleans. I surfed in San Diego.
I saw the Lakers, Kings and Chargers in Los Angeles. I climbed the
cliffs of Malibu. I drank wine in Napa. I rode scooters around San
Francisco. I heard soul in Memphis. I saw old friends and met new ones.
And I did SXSW and ACL right here in Austin. It was everything … yet it
did nothing to beat back the double-barreled blast of depression of
anxiety. And all I could do was wonder why.
I
have an incredible job that I love and excel at. I have parents who
love me to the moon and back. I have some side-talents I’ve developed
that have turned into side-hustles that bring me great joy and the
occasional paycheck. I live in one of my favorite cities. I have fun
friends who bring smiles to my face. I have a cat who, while prickly and
swatty, is kinda cute and keeps me company. I have a nice roof over my
head, a comfortable bed to sleep in and a car to get me where I need to
go. I haven’t always had all these things.
Still, I find myself chanting: “Happiness is not enough.”
I have a pathological fear of my life crashing down upon me,
ruining everything I’ve worked for, napalming all my relationships,
causing me to die young, or kicking me back out onto the street or into
jail with the riff-raff. I nearly always feel like I should be doing
something else … that I’m not making effective use of my time. I spend
many waking moments feeling restless and fearful. I often feel unworthy
of love and friendship. And I’ve often wondered why, and have spent a
great many years at Medium mining my psyche on this. Not long ago, I finally drilled down deep enough to strike oil. And so I know: The
cause of my constant dread and ache is a voice inside my head that’s as
verbally abusive as any drill sergeant or SEC football coach. It’s
rooted in someone else’s voice that’s been with me all my life, and I’m
only now beginning to recognize it and undermine it.
Prior
to that epiphany, I’d spent my life trying to outrun it instead. I’d
been trying to silence that voice by cramming as much happiness into
every waking minute as I possibly can: More accomplishments. Bigger
paychecks. New clothes. Trips across the country. Luxurious meals. Long
hikes. Longer nights out. Drinks. Sex. Deeper friendships. Viral
columns. Even more drinks. Trying to set a high score in the game of
life. I believed that if I am perpetually happy, then I will never have time to be sad.
And
then I come home. Take off my shoes and my sweater like Mr. Rogers,
plop myself into bed, and lay there praying for sleep to come swiftly,
while shaking like I’m withdrawing from heroin. The voice remains. You
can escape pretty much anything, but you can never leave yourself.
I always believed that you stockpile happy memories
the way you’d deposit money in a 401K — filling your soul’s bucket to
the brim with it. After that swim, I realized I could be wrong —in fact,
that analogy is a bit backwards.
Our
souls do float across the sea of life, taking on water as they go,
sinking ever so slightly — perhaps even imperceptibly — into despair.
But our souls are not the bucket. Happiness itself is. And it’s the bucket we use to pour water out our souls and keep us afloat. What we really need is peace. Peace patches the holes in our souls and stops the leaking. Once we have peace, we will no longer need to seek happiness.
How
do you find peace? You find peace through living your truth, through
pursuing your passion. You find peace through meditation or yoga (or
god, if that’s your thing). You find peace when you become your best
self and when you make the right decisions. You find peace through
challenging yourself to do good, to take risks, and by delaying
gratification for the sake of setting yourself up for future success.
You find peace through connecting with and caring for others. You find
peace in the stillness of yourself. You find peace when you recognize
the voice inside your head that says you don’t deserve it, and you smirk
as you minimize that voice until it no longer has a say. You find peace without looking for it. I’ve touched on this before and failed to realize it. Peace is the ultimate pursuit — it’s miles away from happiness, no matter how far you travel.
Happiness is a cigarette. Peace is a clear lung.
Happiness is sex. Peace is love.
Happiness is a Lexus. Peace is a 401K.
Happiness is a wine buzz. Peace is sobriety.
Happiness is what’s best. Peace is what’s right.
Happiness is temporary. Peace is forever.
Happiness
is doing something you know you shouldn’t, because you can. Peace is
doing something you think you can’t, because you should.
Happiness
is floating in the crystal-clear Pacific Ocean, water lapping against
your back, saltwater seeping into and out of your pores, the hypnotic
rush of the waves and a symphony of seagulls. Peace is what allows you
to notice it all.
The next time I wander out into the water, I want my mind to come with me.
I don’t think that’s wanting too much.
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