The Generation of Happiness

May 1, 1966
Plainfield

The Generation of Happiness

Next Sunday, Mothers' Day arrives, a day when commercial promotion and some feelings of guilt for many omissions stimulate millions of Americans to remember Mother – to make that day particularly happy if she still lives, or if she is dead, to think back on her life with affection and to recall poignant memories.

Are Mothers members of the generation of happiness? Let's hope so and for more than that one day, too. Yet I remember when our children were all young, our elders would admonish us, "This is the happiest time of your life when the children are small. They'll grow up all too soon and life will never be as good again." But I did not find this precisely true – for the years of young parenthood provided experiences of terrible anxiety as well as serenity and the satisfaction of being needed.

Also, the elders had remarked a few years before that, "appreciate these years when you're young, active and free of family responsibility. These are the best years of your life, so enjoy them while you can." But this appraisal of the wonderful years of youth is only partially true, for mixed with the excitement, activity and new experiences of those years are many troublesome worries involved in growing up, rebelling against old ways and finding a right way for oneself. I cannot believe that youth is the generation of happiness.

Others will make the case for the middle years, when the children are grown up, or nearly so, and health remains vigorous and income is on the higher arcs of the curve. But this is not the whole truth either. Actually such an assumption may indicate the condition which the sociologist warned us against, "the poverties of the future may indeed be more difficult to deal with unless we avoid the trap of equating prosperity with happiness." (Leonard Duhl, p.296, THE URBAN CONDITION.)

Neither are the retirement years all golden happiness with no touch of brassy disappointment.

From the legends of ancient Greece comes the story of Solon, the Athenian law-giver who visited the gorgeous palace of Croesus, king of Lydia, wealthiest man of his day. Croesus proudly showed Solon all the golden treasures, and then asked, "What man of all you have beheld seems to you most happy?" Croesus, expecting that Solon would name Croesus, was taken aback when Solon replies, "Tellus, the Athenian who fell in battle Eleusis." "And who after that?" inquired Croesus, thinking that surely his vanity would now be gratified. But Solon went on to name, "Cleobus and Bito who had yoked themselves to the carriage of their mother and hauled it to the temple for the religious festival."

Croesus, his feelings injured, protested, "Think you so meanly of my great prosperity as to place me beneath men of private and obscure conditions?"

Solon then asserted that the truly happy man was the "poor man with health and strength, a stranger to misfortune, blessed in his children, and amiable in himself if at the end of such a life, his death is fortunate." Solon also reminded Croesus that material possessions were of uncertain duration, "Sir if any other come that has better iron (better weapons) he will be master of this gold."

But Solon's appraisal doesn't withstand much examination. For how many poor men are strangers to misfortune and at the same time blessed in their children and all the while amiable in themselves?

Another Greek of ancient times who plumbed the depths of human emotion placed almost impossible qualifications on the generation of happiness. Sophocles wrote as the concluding lines of King Oedipus,

"I will call no mortal happy, while he holds this house of clay,
Till without one pang of sorrow, all his hours have passed away."

But who can know anything about the meaning of life or experience the depths of emotion unless he has endured the pangs of sorrow?

If you were given miraculous powers to command happiness for yourself, would you really know what orders to give? A little child may believe that getting the newest toy or achieving the immediate wish will make him happy. And it does, briefly, maybe. But there is no permanence in the feeling, for soon the temptation of a newer toy is made evident and the immediate past happiness is submerged by a newer fretfulness.

There would be no torment in the generation of happiness if this were a childhood problem solved by the arrival of maturity. But the sad reality of human experience seems to be that in spite of the transient, shifting nature of the happiness of children, adults have a far weaker grasp on the generation of happiness. In the fullness of years, we look back nostalgically at childhood as the time of happiness. Distance and adult disillusion have lent unreal enchantment, however, for childhood is never a period of unmarked joy, but a time of fears and angers, as well as joys,

Most of us like the movie or novel with the happy ending, where all the obstacles are overcome and all the misunderstandings reconciled. The tragedy leaves us disquieted and vaguely discontented. We want the hero to get the girl and the villain to be defeated and plainly punished. But, as dramatists and accomplished writers know, simple answers to complex problems are uncommon. Untroubled happiness is rarer still.

To think of the generation of happiness as a noun – as a particular time in one's life, is an entirely mistaken way to evaluate happiness. The generation of happiness is a verb, not a noun. Happiness is not a fixed point, but a way of believing and acting; not an accomplishment which can be achieved, but a way of being human. And happiness is not out of reach. In his incisive way, Thoreau once wrote that God did not send us into the world without some spending money.

Consider some of the definitions and concepts of happiness which people have dreamed in their dreams and cherished in their hopes:

It is written that a church, not this one, promoted a church blood bank and used this slogan, “happiness is sharing a pint with someone.”

Emmanuel Kant once commented, "The notion of happiness is so indefinite that although every man wishes to attain it, yet he can never say definitely and consistently what it is he really wishes."

The nature of happiness has been a perennial quest by philosophers, kings and the everyday people of life. The compensatory dream of happiness has common roots in many places and times.

The American Indian dreamed of a happy hunting ground which would be his compensation for the hardships of living. Fish and game would be abundant, hunger pains would never be felt again, when the spirit reached its final happy destination.

The Norsemen believed that in Valhalla they would find healing for their wounds and rest from their sea-rovings.

The peoples of the Near East had strong beliefs about the places of future bliss and future punishment. As orthodox thought developed in the early Christian Church, the belief grew that the reward of the holy, favored life was everlasting bliss in Heaven. There among the angels, the "elect would glorify God and enjoy him forever." This glorious hope represented the only lasting joy and would compensate for all earthly disasters, persecution and ill-fortune.

This Christian hope of permanent heavenly happiness has exerted continuous influence. Most Christian fundamentalist groups believe that earthly misery will be compensated by happiness in heaven for the redeemed sinners. The consolation of the Christian has long been that "God will wipe away the tears" as the eternal rejoicings begin.

But there has been another theme pulsing in history’s rhythms. Always there have been philosophers and average citizens reluctant to abdicate happiness on earth, just because there was an eternal hope in the promises of gospel preachers or because there was assurance of any other kind of postponed salvation. The gentle skepticism of Ecclesiastes is one of the fine expressions of this realism (3 12/13 and 22):

"I know there is no good in them, but for a man to rejoice, and to do good in his life,
"And also that every man should eat and drink and enjoy the good of his labor...."
"Wherefore, I perceive that there is nothing better, than that a man should rejoice in his works; for that is his portion for who shall bring him to see what shall be after him?"

Then, too, many have argued the case for hedonism – that this earth’s the only place for happiness; and that the nature of happiness is in the presence of pleasure and the absence of pain.

In the MERRY WIVES OF WINDSOR, the page announces the arrival of the tavern-keeper of the Garter Inn (Act II, sc. 1):

"Look where my vaunting host of the Garter comes.
There is either liquor in his pate or money in his purse
When he looks so merrily."

In one way or another, many people behave as though one can find happiness in the hedonistic way of life, eat, drink and be merry. The slick and glamorous ads are one of the hallmarks of our culture. One might be permitted to say after a study of these tribal artifacts of "the Waffluent society," that the way to happiness includes patented digestive remedies, the right formula beer, exciting sports, diverting amusements —all accompanied by young, glamorous girls whose appearance never seems to be disheveled by by their vigorous activities and whose dispositions never seem ruffled at the shallow values of their escorts. Of course in this picture of the good life is the necessity not only of occupation which finances such standards of consumption, but also builds in the compensation of status and success.

Now success and luxuries are not bad; neither is much of the way these are merchandised, although there are instances which are rather wretched examples of huckstering. We need to improve distribution so more people will have material benefits. The emphasis on luxury living underlines a wider availability of minimum living necessities, even though it is naive not to recognize the extensive pockets in our own country, not to mention the rest of the world.

But material abundance is by no means sufficient for the generation of happiness. Despite the surface charms of hedonism and its philosophic defense, the presence of pleasure and the absence of pain does not provide a complete equation for happiness.

One can infer that Jesus was making this point when he told the parable of the rich fool who said, “‘I’ll pull down my barns and build bigger ones where I can store all my goods and I can say to my soul, Soul, you have plenty of good things stored up there for years to come. Relax, eat, drink and have a good time.’ Jesus then said, ‘But God said to him, you fool, this very night you will be asked for your soul.’” Jesus concluded with a proverb that describes us all, “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”

Albert Einstein in his reverent agnosticism said much the same in more modern language (from the WORLD AS I SEE IT, quoted NT) "To inquire after the meaning of object of one's own existence or of creation generally has always seemed to me absurd from an objective point of view. And yet everybody, has certain ideals which determine the direction of his endeavors and his judgments. In this sense I have never looked upon ease and happiness as ends in themselves – such an ethical basis I call more proper for a herd of swine. The ideals which have lighted me on my way and time after time given me new courage to face life cheerfully, have been Truth, Goodness and Beauty."

We have always made much of the great phrase in the Declaration of Independence that because we are human we have the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. But the language may be somewhat confusing because happiness is not something to be won like first place in a race or something to be acquired like a Persian rug. Because if happiness is pursued for its own sake, it becomes curiously transformed into persistent frustration. Like eating peanuts, the more you eat, the more you want.

Happiness is neither a goal nor an acquisition. It is not the winning of an election or the getting of a rare stamp. In Christopher Fry's play, THE FIRST BORN, Anath says to Rameses,

"I have to wish you happiness
Dear, be happy. There's
Nothing better to be looked for.
Happiness is sometimes hard to recognize
It seems to keep company with the unlikely."

There is a wise scriptural proverb, "Happy is the man that findeth wisdom and the man that getteth understanding."

Happiness is not limited to childhood or youth, maturity or old age. Nor are any of these three age groupings barred from happiness. Furthermore, happiness is not a benefit mysteriously and unaccountably conferred on a few persons.

Happiness is a quality which generates as a consequence of certain relationships. In the twenties, there was a popular song which was a long country mile from being good music, but a line from the lyrics is suggestive of the quality of happiness, "I want to be happy, but I can't be happy, unless I make you happy too."

Happiness is not achieved by seeking it as a goal; it only comes when other motives possess priority. Dr. Samuel Sandmel, the noted Bible Scholar who speaks to the IARF meetings this Summer, commented, “no man begets his own happiness. It is a gift of God that comes to a man through his virtue." Erich Fromm, the famous author and psychiatrist expressed essentially the same belief in a more humanistic veil when he wrote that we can experience fulfillment and happiness only when we are related to and in real sympathy with (or empathy) our fellow human beings.

In the J.B. Phillips translation of Paul's letter to the Romans some portions are helpful. A few verses are quoted because I believe they are enduringly pertinent in that basic to Paul’s homilies is the insight that one's relationships with others is integrated and inseparable from one's relationship to oneself.

Paul wrote, "give freely to those in want, never grudging." Paul was reminding his friends in Rome that when giving to those in need, at the vital motive center was the willingness to give without grudging. Lowell phrased it, "the gift without the giver is bare." Paul wrote, "bless them that curse you," but everyone who has ever been cussed out knows that we like to strike back, “damn you, too.” Such retaliation may be a response to adrenalin, but surely sidetracks the arrival of happiness.

Then Paul showed another rare insight into our human nature: "share the happiness of those who are happy and the sorrows of those who are sad." Deep in the wells of our unrevealed self, most of us are self-centered enough to concede that it is easier to share the sorrows of the sad, than the happiness of those who rejoice. The famous preacher of the early Church, John Chrysostom, in one of his sermons, said, "a fellow feeling of grief comes naturally, while appreciation of others' success demands real nobility of soul."

"Don't pay back a bad turn by a bad turn to anyone." Paul knew, as everyone of us should know, that revenge is not sweet, but rather revenge is the essence of bitterness. In Henry VIII, Shakespeare has a character say, "heat not a furnace for your foe so hot that it do singe yourself."

In these and other pertinent capsules of good advice, Paul does not write, "do this and become happy," or "do that and be happy," for happiness never comes by seeking it.

Paul's insights of so many centuries ago have been latterly confirmed by modern physicians of the self, the psychiatrists and psychologists, one of whom phrased a modern inter-personal statement of the Golden Rule, "what you do to others, you do to yourself."

The late, great and beloved actress, Ethel Barrymore found this true in her own experience. Once speaking of a comeback following adversity, she said, "You must learn, day by day, year by year, to broaden your horizon. The more things you love, the more you are interested in, the more you enjoy, the more you are indignant about – the more you have left when anything happens."

Lastly, just a word about what you can do about the happiness of others, whether parents, friends or associates. Don't save the tributes for the funeral. Gene Smith, in his biography of President Woodrow Wilson (WHEN THE CHEERING STOPPED, p. 253), wrote that at Woodrow Wilson' s funeral, 8000 messages of condolence were received; when President Wilson had left the office of President three years earlier, only 124 telegrams had been received. For a man beset and defeated in his most important struggle for the League of Nations, how much more human it would have been if the living man had received the 8000 messages and his family the 124 telegrams after his death.

Happiness is not yours for the asking or the pursuing. It is only an unsought consequence when you generate happiness for others.