I love the depth of thought you are bringing to these questions, and it's such a beautiful beginning with your memory of your father's story. I too love the feeling of taking heels off after an extra long day. I first read this on the day you posted and first thought of reading as one answer, but perhaps it doesn't fit so much with the word 'unusual' at the end there. My thinking today is that a better answer might be hearing an old song I've not heard for ages play over the speakers in the supermarket while I am grocery shopping. I have no shame about singing along out loud (but quietly). That feeling of singing softly to a old song in public (which I would not do anywhere else) makes me happy. By comparison, I would say it's joyful to sing loudly with the speaker volume turned right up in the privacy of my own home when no one else is around to judge.
Thank you. I am not a singer, but for me people singing or whistling is always a sign of lightness and joy. I was actually dancing, on my own because I was very, very happy today :-)
I love this tradition of fika and will definitely be actively enforcing it in my own life - a pause and reconnect in the day with the people around me.
There's a quote, I believe by Thoreau, that says, "Happiness is like a butterfly; the more you chase it, the more it will elude you, but if you turn your attention to other things, it will come and sit softly on your shoulder." Maybe that's the same lesson as your blue bird. But in any case, I often hear this idea passed around to remind us that it's futile to pursue happiness directly -- and that might be true if we're talking about happiness as a spontaneous, joyous feeling in which self-awareness totally disappears. But I don't think that's the only valid definition of happiness.
In fact, as I've gotten older, I've become happier by doing the opposite: by meditating on what brings me happiness. By noticing that it makes me happy. To answer your question of the week, for me, just one of many small examples would be the fresh bouquet of flowers sitting on my dining room table. It astounds me how much light and beauty a vase of flowers can bring to a room, to an entire home. I keep fresh flowers on my table without fail every day because they bring me joy, and because I know they bring me joy, I continue to buy them and care for them.
There is something to be said, too, for happiness as the sheer absence of pain. I think this is what the Epicureans were onto, but there is something humans don't like about a negative definition, and perhaps that's why they never became as popular as the Stoics (but I digress). Again, I have found that meditating on the absence of painful things that could be happening in my life but aren't (my healthy body, no aches, no injuries) brings me an instant sense of gratitude and well-being. Humans typically only think of the things they don't have when they think of the things they want -- in my case, I have found the inversion works almost the same: the more I think about the unpleasant things I don't have or deal with, the more I want my life to be the way it is and am glad it is the way it is.
I really like this way of reframing happiness. The butterfly quote always makes it sound like happiness will disappear the moment you acknowledge it, which feels a bit unfair to happiness. What you are describing isn’t chasing it so much as paying attention and figuring out what brings you joy and then doing more of that. The flowers are a perfect example. Your idea of focusing on the unpleasant things you don’t have to deal with is very interesting, I think I will actually try to do that. It really does shift the perspective.
Thank you for takin the time to provide this very elaborate answer to the questions.
Absolutely, the whole idea of happiness is so multifacted that for me, I think a shorter response would be impossible even if I tried. :) I look forward to this week's next question.
There are many small differences to pick on between perceived and felt, happy and joyful, lucky and well-earned.
I think the most unexpectedly happy, as the question suggests, I am while walking outside. Being a homebody and finding my main joy in books, the little happy bursts are outside for sure. They are random, unpredictable, not controlled by me, and wild. How the cloud travels across the sky. The colors of the sky. The leaf, or a flower, and the scent. Street art. A pattern of the wall. How two colors work together. These are my happy moments.
Thank you, but I think I am only scratching the surface of this complex emotion. To be honest, I struggled to answer the question for various reasons, but in reality the answer should be very simple: just small, unpredictable baubles of happiness that make us smile and brighten our day… :-)
This is a four letter word worth living!
I love the depth of thought you are bringing to these questions, and it's such a beautiful beginning with your memory of your father's story. I too love the feeling of taking heels off after an extra long day. I first read this on the day you posted and first thought of reading as one answer, but perhaps it doesn't fit so much with the word 'unusual' at the end there. My thinking today is that a better answer might be hearing an old song I've not heard for ages play over the speakers in the supermarket while I am grocery shopping. I have no shame about singing along out loud (but quietly). That feeling of singing softly to a old song in public (which I would not do anywhere else) makes me happy. By comparison, I would say it's joyful to sing loudly with the speaker volume turned right up in the privacy of my own home when no one else is around to judge.
Thank you. I am not a singer, but for me people singing or whistling is always a sign of lightness and joy. I was actually dancing, on my own because I was very, very happy today :-)
I love this tradition of fika and will definitely be actively enforcing it in my own life - a pause and reconnect in the day with the people around me.
This gave me so much to think about.
There's a quote, I believe by Thoreau, that says, "Happiness is like a butterfly; the more you chase it, the more it will elude you, but if you turn your attention to other things, it will come and sit softly on your shoulder." Maybe that's the same lesson as your blue bird. But in any case, I often hear this idea passed around to remind us that it's futile to pursue happiness directly -- and that might be true if we're talking about happiness as a spontaneous, joyous feeling in which self-awareness totally disappears. But I don't think that's the only valid definition of happiness.
In fact, as I've gotten older, I've become happier by doing the opposite: by meditating on what brings me happiness. By noticing that it makes me happy. To answer your question of the week, for me, just one of many small examples would be the fresh bouquet of flowers sitting on my dining room table. It astounds me how much light and beauty a vase of flowers can bring to a room, to an entire home. I keep fresh flowers on my table without fail every day because they bring me joy, and because I know they bring me joy, I continue to buy them and care for them.
There is something to be said, too, for happiness as the sheer absence of pain. I think this is what the Epicureans were onto, but there is something humans don't like about a negative definition, and perhaps that's why they never became as popular as the Stoics (but I digress). Again, I have found that meditating on the absence of painful things that could be happening in my life but aren't (my healthy body, no aches, no injuries) brings me an instant sense of gratitude and well-being. Humans typically only think of the things they don't have when they think of the things they want -- in my case, I have found the inversion works almost the same: the more I think about the unpleasant things I don't have or deal with, the more I want my life to be the way it is and am glad it is the way it is.
I really like this way of reframing happiness. The butterfly quote always makes it sound like happiness will disappear the moment you acknowledge it, which feels a bit unfair to happiness. What you are describing isn’t chasing it so much as paying attention and figuring out what brings you joy and then doing more of that. The flowers are a perfect example. Your idea of focusing on the unpleasant things you don’t have to deal with is very interesting, I think I will actually try to do that. It really does shift the perspective.
Thank you for takin the time to provide this very elaborate answer to the questions.
Absolutely, the whole idea of happiness is so multifacted that for me, I think a shorter response would be impossible even if I tried. :) I look forward to this week's next question.
I see you went full philosophical 😏
There are many small differences to pick on between perceived and felt, happy and joyful, lucky and well-earned.
I think the most unexpectedly happy, as the question suggests, I am while walking outside. Being a homebody and finding my main joy in books, the little happy bursts are outside for sure. They are random, unpredictable, not controlled by me, and wild. How the cloud travels across the sky. The colors of the sky. The leaf, or a flower, and the scent. Street art. A pattern of the wall. How two colors work together. These are my happy moments.
Thank you, but I think I am only scratching the surface of this complex emotion. To be honest, I struggled to answer the question for various reasons, but in reality the answer should be very simple: just small, unpredictable baubles of happiness that make us smile and brighten our day… :-)
Happiness is so complex!
Totally agree