SIMPLE LIFE
When you think about it, the ordinary becomes extraordinary
Meaningful Happiness by JIM DODSON illustration GERRY O’NEILL
I
bumped into a friend in the produce holidays and said goodbye. She went off to the organic onions and I went in search section at the market. We had not seen each other since the start of the of the special spiced apple cider that only comes round during the autumn holidays pandemic — well over a year ago, if — an ordinary thing, it suddenly struck not longer — long enough for me me, that provides “meaningful” happiness to briefly forget her name, though maybe to my taste buds. For what it’s worth, I was just having the proverbial senior though too late to count, I also suddenly moment. remembered my friend’s name: Donna. In any case, when I asked how she’d Quite honestly, in all the years I’ve been, she simply smiled. “Like everyone, steeped my tin-cup it’s been pretsoul into the works ty challenging. Objects and possessions of great spiritual But, also kind of teachers, classical revealing. It may can certainly provide a philosophers, transound funny, but shot of pleasure, but scendental thinkers, I discovered that picking beautiful invariably lose their power Lake District poets, and street-corner vegetables to cook to possess us somewhere cranks, I’d never for my family down the line as rust and come across the makes me really phrase meaningful happy. Previously, dust prevail. happiness. shopping seemed But suddenly more like a nec— like an ear-burrowing TV jingle or a essary chore than a privilege. I guess I’ve favorite song from the 1970s — I couldn’t learned that the ordinary things provide get the idea of it out of my head. the most meaningful happiness.” Mankind’s search for happiness and We wished each other safe and happy 48 | WALTER
meaning, of course, probably constitutes the oldest quest on Earth, beginning with a fabled naked couple in a heavenly garden, though as any ancient sage worthy of his or her plinth will tell you, true happiness is not something you can acquire from the outside world. Even a fashionable fig leaf can only cover so much. Objects and possessions can certainly provide a shot of pleasure, but invariably lose their power to possess us somewhere down the line as rust and dust prevail. At the end of the day, as our wise old grandmothers patiently advised, true happiness can only come from the way you think about who you are and what you choose to do. As a famous old Presbyterian preacher once remarked to me as we sat together on his porch on a golden Vermont afternoon: “What we choose to worship, dear boy, is what we eventually become.” This curious idea of meaningful happiness, in any case, struck me as a highly useful tool — a way of defining — or, better, refining — what kinds of people, things, and moments in life are worthy of
