Leanda Lee
There are some weeks in which moments are connected by a particular theme that weaves its way across the day, through things we read and discussions we have and hear. This happens relatively regularly in our village of Macau where conversations on topics of interest in one social circle seem to pop up in others not too long after. This week, that theme was happiness.
Although the pursuit of happiness may be viewed as an inalienable right, happiness has never been the Holy Grail for me. It’s just never loomed large. It’s not been something of interest to speak of, or of concern from childhood. It was just expected we would be happy – we never doubted it. We were too busy doing things and enjoying ourselves to bother chasing it. That view worked and still does. The thing about happiness is that in its pursuit is an inalienable implication; that we are not.
There are marvellous benefits from being brainwashed into believing that no other response to life other than a modicum of happiness might be an option. The pursuit of meaning, achievement, and care bring with them sustainable joys, comfortable ease and contentment that the quest for happiness in and of itself can never amount to. Happiness is a by-product of meaningful activity, not an end-point.
But who am I to speak? The pursuit of this thing is big business: retail therapy, self-help books and blogs (“10 Scientifically Proven Ways to Be Incredibly Happy”), whiskey, entertainment, psychologists, therapists, online dating, diamonds, perfume, chocolate cake, silk and lace, smiling (apparently causality can go in the opposite direction), hobbies, movies, music, spas, parties, and anything else that has potential to alter brain chemistry.
For happiness from things we can’t buy, fun and jokes can be a good source. The dark humour on the family menu at meal times this week has, nonetheless been somewhat questionable. Not often tasty or even tasteful – and with apologies for any offense that this may cause – a particular dark Hitler joke has been titillating a certain youth. I know this because it’s been tried out on more than a few people: “What’s the difference between Hitler and Michael Phelps? One can finish a race.” Boom, boom. What made me happy was not so much the dubious amusement factor but what the scenario meant – that this certain youth had developed enough general knowledge and sophistication to “get” it and was curious to test reactions. (Now we have to work on subtlety.)
Trawling online at that quiet time of night between working and summoning the energy to drag myself off to bed, I came across an article about the link between intelligence and happiness. Common lamentations of “Oh, to be a simple soul” and “ignorance is bliss” suggest that happiness may be inversely related to intelligence, but apparently a new study suggests that the more intelligent among 10,000 Brits studied had higher levels of stability of happiness (yes, I note the potential cultural bias of “the reserved”). So, to engage the brain may maintain happiness. Yet another study out of the Erasmus University in 2012 suggests that smart individuals aren’t necessarily happier but happiness is more likely in countries where people are smart. Another justification to invest in better education and health.
The first prize among those happiness moments this week, however, goes to Father Bob Maguire being interviewed on Australian Radio National. Father Bob is running a campaign offering a chance to win guaranteed happiness. The Third Prize pool was 5 TVs; strange since we’re not supposed to buy happiness. Second prize was a 5-night stay at a 5 star resort; getting weirder from an affable priest. Then it came. The true road to happiness. The First Prize is a week volunteering in a soup kitchen. And if the winner isn’t made happier after that week of engaging with and helping homeless people (psychometric tests being administered to determine this), Father Bob will throw in another week of volunteer work until greater happiness is achieved. After all, happiness guaranteed.
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