Authentic happiness is not linked to an activity; it is a state of being, a profound emotional balance struck by a subtle understanding of how the mind functions. While ordinary pleasures are produced by contact with pleasant objects and end when that contact is broken, sukha – lasting well-being – is felt so long as we remain in harmony with our inner nature.
Matthieu Ricard, Happiness
“Rejoice always.” 1 Thess 5:16
It is not fitting, when one is in God’s service, to have a gloomy face or a chilling look. – St. Francis of Assisi
Last Sunday was the third Sunday of Advent, which is known as Gaudete Sunday – from the Latin word Gaudete, meaning “rejoice”. The season of Advent originally was a fast of forty days in preparation for Christmas, starting the day after the feast of St. Martin (12 November), and was called “St. Martin’s Lent” from as early as the fifth century. This Sunday was a break from the penitential atmosphere in that it focused on joy because the coming celebration was near. There seems to be a number of fundamental themes occurring in all cultures around this time of year, reflecting deep anthropological or archaic desires. One of them is the desire to keep hope and joy alive in the face of shortening days. We can see this theme expressed as hope, patience and looking forward in the Christian season, due initially to the belief in the immanent return of Jesus. Nowadays the injunction becomes an inner wisdom, directing us to notice what is good and not stay with the mind’s habitual tendency to struggle and focus on what is negative. It also points us towards finding true contentment with how our life is actually at this moment. Practically this means that we cultivate the practice of joy, smiling at the beauty we see each day and being grateful for the good things we receive. Not taking ourselves too seriously, but keeping light and unforced, is also a useful practice, as the Thich Nhat Hahn quote this morning said, and as Chesterton reminds us here:
Angels can fly because they can take themselves lightly. This has been always the instinct of Christendom, and especially the instinct of Christian art. Remember how Fra Angelico represented all his angels, not only as birds, but almost as butterflies. Seriousness is not a virtue. It is really a natural trend or lapse into taking one’s self gravely, because it is the easiest thing to do. For solemnity flows out of men naturally; but laughter is a leap. It is easy to be heavy: hard to be light. Satan fell by the force of gravity.
Ah, world, what lessons you prepare for us,
even in the leafless winter,
even in the ashy city.
I am thinking now of grief, and of getting past it;
I feel my boots trying to leave the ground,
I feel my heart pumping hard. I want
to think again of dangerous and noble things.
I want to be light and frolicsome.
I want to be improbable beautiful and afraid of nothing,
as though I had wings.
Mary Oliver, Starlings in Winter
Winter has finally arrived here, with snow on the nearby mountains. So a little reflection on working with the things that we cannot change or with things that inconvenience us:
A disciple asked the Zen master Tung-shan: “When the heat of summer and the cold of winter arrive, how can we escape them?” Tung-shan answered, “Why don’t you go where there is no heat or cold?” “Where is this place,” asked the disciple, “where there is no heat or cold?” At this the master replied, “When it is hot, be completely hot; when it is cold, be completely cold.”
The disciple’s question had a symbolic meaning, and the answer was given on the same level. Heat and cold stand for circumstances that affect our daily existence but are out of our hands to regulate or rectify. Impersonal facts with far-reaching effects on us include: general economic conditions; situations of war, violence or peace; accidents; laws, policies and prejudices; possibilities and opportunities available in a particular community; mechanical and technological breakdowns and so on. The disciple wished to know how to escape such restraints. He wished to live in an ideal country where it is never too hot or too cold.
The Zen master’s reply was also symbolic. Instead of offering an escape route, he invited the disciple to plunge directly into the current situation and become completely hot in summer, completely cold in winter. According to an interpretation by Francis Dojun Cook, the Zen master was suggesting a radical affirmation of one’s very conditionedness in order to transcend it. By plunging directly into the current, one flows with it and on it. When resistance is futile, yielding to the flow of the current of events offers the promise of life. In order to understand the reply of Tung-shan, we have to realize that he was speaking of a change in attitude. Rather than attempting to change the facts of the situation, or escape them by flight, we may change our attitude, accept things as they are, and thereby move beyond them to a point where we find peace of mind. That point or region of peace is the country where “there is no heat or cold.” These conditions no longer exist as problems for us, although they continue to exist as facts. What has changed is our attitude toward them.
Charles Cummings, The Best Place to Live
Happiness is accepting and choosing life, not just submitting grudgingly to it. It comes when we choose to be who we are, to be ourselves, at this present moment of our lives; we choose life at it is, with all its joys, pain and conflicts. Happiness is living and seeking the truth, together with others in community, and assuming responsibility for our lives and the lives of others. It is accepting the fact that we are not infinite, but can enter into a personal relationship with the Infinite, discovering the universal truth and justice that transcends all cultures: each person is unique and sacred. We are not just seeking what others want us to be or to conform to the expectations of family, friends, or local ways of being. We have chosen to be who we are, with all this is beautiful and broken in us. We do not slip away from life and live in a world of illusions, dreams, or nightmares. We become present to reality and to life. We become present to reality and to life so that we are free to live according to our personal conscience, our sacred sanctuary, where love resides within us and we see others as they are in the depth of their being. We are not letting the light of life within us be crushed, and we are not crushing it in others. On the contrary, all we want is for the light of others to shine.
Jean Vanier, Essential Writings
We practice so that every moment of our life becomes real life. And therefore when we meditate. we sit for sitting. We don’t sit for something else. If we sit for twenty minutes, these twenty minutes should bring us joy, life. If we practice walking meditation, we walk just for walking, not to arrive. We have to be alive with each step, and if we are, each step brings real life back to us. The same kind of mindfulness can be practiced when we eat breakfast, or when we hold a child in our arms. Each breath we take, each step we make, each smile we realize, is a positive contribution to peace, a necessary step in the direction of peace in the world.
Thich Nhat Hahn, The Heart of Understanding
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