The Source of Happiness and Unhappiness
The Buddha said so simply and clearly that the source of happiness and unhappiness lies nowhere else but in our minds and hearts. We can make endless journeys to find happiness, and engage in countless strategies to rid ourselves of unhappiness, but—the key traveler on all the journeys and the central player in all the strategies is ourselves, and it is to ourselves we always return. There is a wonderful Zen saying, “The only Truth you find on top of the mountain is the truth you brought with you.” We discover happiness through making peace with ourselves and the circumstances of our lives, not through trying to escape from them, nor through living in fantasies about the future. Our lives will continue to present us with unexpected challenges and opportunities. Our bodies will age and become fragile, our teenagers will rebel, our colleagues may frustrate us, financial demands will continue to appear. We will meet with allies and adversaries. We will be asked to find room in our hearts for the needs of others, to embrace our own demons, and to respond to the changing circumstances of each moment. We make peace with our lives through learning to connect with the simple truths of each moment. As the graffiti on the bridge tells us, “We are not in a traffic jam. We are the traffic jam.”
We do not have to travel far to discover simplicity. Each encounter, event, and moment is a mirror that reflects our reactions, fears, longings, and stories. When we encounter another person, in that moment we also meet ourselves in our thoughts, feelings, and responses. Exploring and touching our own heart and mind, we become intimate with all hearts and minds. Fear and anger, greed and jealousy, loving kindness and generosity, compassion and forgiveness are not personal possessions, but universal, human feelings. Understanding how our world is created on a moment-to-moment level, we understand all worlds.
The present moment we are in offers everything we need to discover the deepest serenity and most profound simplicity. There is not a better moment, a more perfect moment for us to awaken and uncover the immediacy and well-being we long for. Tolstoy once said, “If you want to be happy; be.” Yearning for simplicity we are guided to turn our attention to those events, circumstances, and inner experiences that appear most entangled. The places where we feel the most lost and confused are the places we are asked to shine the light of clear and kind attention.
The Buddha said, “I teach only one thing—there is suffering and there is an end of suffering.” All Buddhist traditions and practices rest upon this one simple statement. We all live in the same world experiencing sounds, sights, tastes, smells, feelings, and thoughts. We share the same story of birth, aging, sickness, and death. We all have the capacity for delight and distress, great compassion and great struggle. In the universal story none of us will remain untouched by loss, sadness, and pain, and we will all be touched by moments of simple joy and gladness—we will all laugh and we will all weep. It is a story of change and unpredictability, and it will not always be under our control. This is the story of life.
Simplicity will not be found in trying to mold life to comply with our desires and expectations. The events and circumstances of our world feel no obligation to conform to our expectations. Again and again we learn that the gap between what is and what “should be” is an ocean of distress, disappointment, and frustration. These feelings are not intrinsic to living but derive from our unwillingness to turn our hearts and minds to the realities of each moment. To have the wisdom to acknowledge the bare truths of the moment—“this is grief,” “this is fear,” “this is frustration”—enables us to lay down the burden of our stories and “shoulds,” and follow the road to peace. Simplicity is born of a depth of understanding that enables us to harmonize our inner world with the changes and unpredictability of life.
Personal Story, Life Story
Our personal story is rooted within the universal story, but we each bring to it different ways of experiencing and holding it. To each moment we bring our past memories, hopes, fears, and preferences, and the world reflects back to us the state of our minds. A traveler came to the gates of a new city and asked the gatekeeper, “What kind of people live here?” The gatekeeper answered with a question of his own, “What kind of people lived in the city you just came from?” The traveler replied, “They were mostly a cantankerous lot, greedy and self-centered.” The gatekeeper answered, “I expect you will find the people here just the same.” Soon after, another traveler met the gatekeeper and asked the same question. Again the gatekeeper asked, “How did you find the residents of the city you visited last?” The traveler answered enthusiastically, “They were warm and hospitable; truly a fine group of people.” The gatekeeper responded, “I expect you will find these folk just the same.”
Love and loss, frustration and contentment, intimacy and separation, praise and blame, beginnings and endings—this is the story of life. For each person who meets life with joy and ease, there is another who lives with fear and conflict. The story of life offers us possibilities of entanglement and intensity, or simplicity and ease. To discover the peace of simplicity we are asked to see through the layers of misunderstanding and confusion that camouflage the serenity that is possible for us. The Buddha said, “We carry in our eyes the dust of entanglement.” Entanglement comes with our historical resentments, images, and fears that distort our present. Again and again we find ourselves superimposing our experiences and stories from the past upon the present. Losing ourselves in the stories, we deny to ourselves the capacity to see fully the person in front of us, the moment we are experiencing, or ourselves.
Someone offends us. The next day we encounter them again. No sooner do we set eyes upon them than we find ourselves replaying our resentment, the story of yesterday, at the forefront of our mind. Can we see that person without the veils of the story? Can we see them as someone who may not even know that they have hurt us or as someone caught up in the same agitation we ourselves have experienced? Do we find ourselves already avoiding, rejecting, or judging? Can we learn to breathe out, to let go of the story, and find the generosity to be wholeheartedly present with that person?
Disentanglement comes with the calm patience and attention that illuminates those places and moments where we founder, learning to let go and establish ourselves in the simple truths of each moment. Being present does not imply that we erase our past and the impact it has had upon us. Being present invites us to allow the memories and the stories rooted in the past to be just whispers in our minds that we no longer solidify with unwise attention. We free ourselves to turn a wholehearted attention to this moment.
Calm simplicity and peace are not only reserved for those with fortunate lives, bulging spiritual portfolios, or for the karmically blessed. Serenity, compassion, and stillness are not accidents but consciously cultivated paths. They are possible for each of us, born of wisdom, dedication, and the willingness to clear the dust of entanglement. It is there for all, born of wisdom, dedication, and the willingness to see clearly.
If a group of people were taken to the foot of a mountain, each person intending to climb to the top, every individual would approach the ascent guided by their own personal story and by their inner sense of possibility or limitation. There would be the person who takes one look at the trail and retires in despair without even taking a single step. There would be the person equipped for every eventuality with parachute, pitons, rations, and a hot water bottle. There would be the person who throws away the map and attacks the hardest route, driven by the ambition to be first to the top. There would be the climber who manages to ascend halfway before getting lost in the pleasant views, quite forgetting the rest of the journey. There would be the climber who has spent