In my teens and early twenties, I was sure all that mattered was fame and fortune. I had dreams of becoming a professional athlete, then a famous actor. I was taking steps toward those dreams. I was making progress.
But roads diverged and those dreams fizzled. The things I thought I needed so desperately to be happy turned out to be unimportant in the grand scheme of life.
According to psychologist Abraham Maslow and his hierarchy of needs, there are certain basic requirements that we need to have covered before we pursue self-actualization. We need food, shelter - a feeling of safety. Once these are secure, we can thrive rather than simply fighting to survive.
But we are brought up to believe that we need so much more to be happy. We need extra. A bigger house, more cars, a giant bank account. Those things, we’re told, will make us happy.
Think back to the happiest moment of your life. Did it involve material possessions? Was it the day you bought a particular item? Probably not.
And if your happiest memory is of buying something, then good for you. You’ve found what makes you happy. Great. But what happens if and when you lose your possessions?
I suppose the same can be asked about the people we love. What will we do when we inevitably lose them, through our death or theirs? Attachment of any kind is a threat to happiness. Life can strip a smile away by tearing what you love from your hands.
So even finding happiness in your loved ones is a risky game.
What about in stillness? When you are silent and alone, can you be happy then? Can you walk along by yourself with a life loving grin on your face? Does the accompaniment of others only add to your happiness? Do possessions only dress up an already cheerful existence?
If you take away people and possessions, what is there to be happy about? Can you find a connection with all of nature that fills you with a sense of joy? Does going for a stroll in the park in isolation lift your spirits? Can you just sit and smile?
It’s hard to be alone with your own thoughts when you’re unhappy. Your inner-voice is amplified, echoing off your insides. You’re tethered to your self-criticism, with no other voice to distract from your masochism.
So you seek distraction before things get awkward. You find something to fill the space where your thoughts would go. Sound, touch, and taste save you from ruminating, and can create a temporary feeling of happiness.
But sensual pleasures fade. Beyond the body there has to be something more significant, because the body too fades. And while the body may be a temple, it isn’t to be worshipped. It is impermanent, while I tend to believe the object of our deepest affection is eternal.
Maybe that’s why you won’t let yourself love yourself quite like you should. Maybe you know that part of you is permanent, but your rational mind doesn't think it’s possible. Maybe you're afraid that attachment to this seemingly permanent you will lead to the disappointment of loss.
Happiness comes down to love. If we’re feeling loving, we’re happy. Whether that’s loving ourselves, someone else, a material possession, or life in general, without the basic ingredient, there is no happiness.
So maybe self-love is all it takes for true happiness. Maybe that should be our primary goal: to learn to love ourselves. It sounds super corny, but it’s probably the cure for all the neuroses that plague society.
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