Happiness generally involves some pleasant experience, feeling, thought, or state. In that state, one feels a sense of ease and peace. It is a feeling of “things falling into place.” A certain level of comfort also seems to accompany most states of happiness. Is happiness the same as comforts? We generally tend to confuse happiness with comforts. Let’s take a closer look at these two.
Take for example the case of money which is generally pursued as a means to the end of happiness or comforts. Many believe that money contributes to happiness, or at least to our comforts.
Experience and observation tells us that both rich and poor may be equally unhappy.
‘The rich are “comfortably unhappy” and the poor are “uncomfortably unhappy,”’ says Swami Dayananda Saraswati, a contemporary Vedānta teacher.
We discover that when it comes to things that matter the most, money makes a very little difference after all. And more money, it seems, does not always equate with more happiness. Yet, money is needed as a threshold condition to provide for the basic necessities of life. Money can also accord comfort to a large measure but perhaps not real contentment or peace of mind. In fact, both the presence and absence of money can rob our peace of mind—we get anxious when we lack money and we are worried when we have it. How can the discontented have peace of mind? And how can one who lacks peace of mind be happy, asks the Bhagavad Gītā 2.66?
Contentment is a state of mind, a special quality born of understanding that knows the correct value of things. We generally tend to give either a higher or a lower “subjective” value (śobhnādhyāsa or aśobhnādhyāsa) to objects, people, and situations. Every restless desire superimposes either a higher or a lower value onto objects, situations etc., which inherently have a neutral value. This creates a sense of false expectations. And expectations can never be fully met, as we all know, even if one has everything under control. And who has everything under control anyway?
Once we superimpose a “subjective value” onto an object, person or a situation, our mind then acquires a state of heightened anxiety to obtain the desired thing. The temporary happiness that we seem to experience when we get the object of our desire in fact does not come from the desired object per se but from the momentary appeasement/subsidence of our anxious mind, until it finds the next object to pine for. The desired object or person is not what makes us happy; it is the fleeting resolution of the desiring or wanting self that allows the pleasurable feeling to occur. This is the psychology of desire-gratification-desire-gratification-desire again and again, ad infinitum. Or, shall we say itch-scratch-itch-scratch-itch again and again….until it bleeds!
It appears that the key thing to realize here is that “happiness” is not an intrinsic quality of any “object” or “person” or “situation.” If it were so, then the same object, person or event will evoke the same invariable degree or feeling of happiness for everyone all the time. This is not the case, however. Otherwise, we will never have garage sales or no one will ever be able to get re-married after being divorced. One always wonders what people who live in places like Hawaii or Bali or Bahamas think about the scenic beauty of their home towns or about the unremitting tourists.
Once I visited India to meet my teacher, Swami Brahmatmananda, who lives in Rishikesh, a small sacred town near Haridwar in North India. I was so impressed with his wisdom and simplicity that I wanted to spend every second of my five days stay with him. He lives in a modest ashram in the middle of a residential area called Muni Ki Reti. One day, as we were walking to the Ganges, the holy river, looking around in the street, I said to him, “Swamiji, the people who live around your ashram must feel so lucky. They have the blessed opportunity of your kind presence all the time and can visit you anytime.” Swamiji became quiet and then turned to me and said, “I have lived here for over 40 years. No one from this neighborhood has ever come and paid a visit to me!” Such is life.
Different strokes for different folks, you may say. The fact remains that no two people have the same value for any one object, person, or situation, howsoever special or unique the object or the person may be. This reveals an important fact about the inability of any object or person or a situation to evoke a universal feeling of happiness in us. Things, people or situations are not dear because of their intrinsic quality; they are dear to us to the extent they evoke a pleased self in us.
When one understands this—that “happiness” is not an intrinsic quality of any “object” or “person” or “situation”—one can objectively enjoy all that life has to offer—objects, relationships, events, without assigning the subjective superimposed value (adhyāsa) to things which may not be really there. Once this objectivity is gained through self-knowledge and self-maturation, and once one understands this calculus, one is through.
The following story splendidly highlights the basic difference between true happiness and comforts:
Once upon a time, a king was taking a stroll in his kingdom during the early morning hours. He saw a hermit who was precariously sleeping on a big rock, with just one small blanket covering his body without any mattress or pillow. It was about 5 am on a very cold winter morning. The king was very surprised to see this person, who was rather sleeping soundly. He could not believe that a person can sleep so comfortably on an uneven hard surface, with just one thin blanket in the freezing cold weather! He wanted to have a conversation with this man and find out about the secret to his sound sleep.
The king stood on the side, waiting for this person to wake up.
When finally the person woke up, the king respectfully approached him and introduced himself. The hermit was very amicable and invited the king to sit beside himself on the very same rock that he was sleeping on. The king obliged and asked the hermit, “So, how was your sleep?”
“Some just like yours and some better than yours,” the hermit replied.
The king could not believe what he heard. First, how can this hermit’s sleep be like mine? I slept on the coziest mattress, with silken bed covers and quilts, sandalwood warming my fireplace with fragrant ambiance. Even if I were to believe that the hermit slept like me, how he could have slept better than me, the king mused.
The king finally asked the hermit, “Holy Sire, please be so kind to explain how you slept better than me or even like me under these harsh conditions and weather.”
The hermit smiled and replied, “Your Highness, when we both were sleeping last night, during our deep sleep, there was no distinction whatsoever between a king and a hermit. Once sleep, one does not know whether one is sleeping on a rock or on a cozy bed. So, that is why I said that part of my sleep experience was exactly like yours.”
“But how was your sleep experience better than mine?” asked the king.
The hermit continued, “Before going to sleep, my mind was reveling in the mysteries of the Divine, free from all worries and fears. Similarly, after I woke up, I had no worries whatsoever. Since, I have no worries or fears, I sleep most peacefully. No dreams ever disturb my sleep. However, before going to bed and after waking up, generally, Your Highness may be worried about so many things—money in the royal exchequer, tension among the queens, fear of coup, invasion, and so forth. These things may prevent your peaceful sleep experience. In this sense at least, my overall sleep experience was better than yours!”
For the first time in his life, the king was able to witness the difference between living comfortably and true happiness. He thanked the hermit and offered him the job of the Royal Counselor in his court, which the hermit respectfully declined, stating that “I prefer the freedom of my peace of mind than any royal comforts.”
“However,” Your Majesty, added the hermit, “if you would ever want to have a leisurely conversation on things that interest you, you will always find a friendly soul waiting for you right here.”
With folded hands and a deep bow, the king took leave, quite awed by the life example of this amicable hermit.
Wonder of wonders: Happiness is our real nature. We keep on looking frantically outside.
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