Living Happiness

He did not arrive at this conclusion by the decent process of quiet, logical deduction, nor yet by the blinding flash of glorious intuition, but by the shoddy, untidy process halfway between the two by which one usually gets to know things. ~Margery Allingham

Once upon a time, Intuition had a partner.  She filled her days in his company, and together they made magic.

Everywhere they went, people commented on them and what a remarkable couple they were.  They became the most popular guests at dinner parties, the most sought after for society events.  Their social calendar was full.  And why not?  Everyone wanted to be paid a visit.  Everyone wanted to be where They were.  Everyone, deep down, just wanted to be them – that’s how glamorous they were.

But then one day, Intuition and her partner had a falling out.  Over what, no one is quite sure.  But it seems Intuition wanted to do things one way and her partner, another.  And for the first time, their often-reconcilable disagreements did not end in a compromise.  Neither one would give and inch and, just like that, the fabric of their relationship was torn.

Intuition decided to go it alone and so, therefore, did her partner.  Being the more vibrant of the two, Intuition, of course, got the lion’s share of the sympathy and remained a favorite at many of the dinner parties and weekend soirees they two used to frequent together.

Her partner, Reason, however, did not fare so well and was slowly sidelined into only brief appearances at occasional luncheons, talks, and teas.  Only rarely now did any of their old friends contact him, and when they did it was usually on the sly, secretly, when no one was looking … lest any of Intuition’s friends find out and fill her in.

Time wore on as it does in situations like these.  Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, months turned into years, and before long hardly anyone could remember anymore a time when Reason and Intuition had been partners or – more than this – lovers of the highest order.

Friends of either one knew only the “now.”  And since, to their minds, their friends’ permanent state of spinster- (or bachelorhood, as the case may be) had always been the given state of things, they could have no way of knowing the playful, boyish side of Reason that Intuition had once never failed to bring out in him.  Nor could they understand the focused, confident face Intuition used to present to the world when, reassured and calmed by Reason’s steadying hand at her elbow (or in the small of her back), they entered a room together.

However, in a few (very few) hidden places around the world, there are still some people who know and remember a time when Reason and Intuition were one.  These are their oldest friends, the ones who couldn’t believe the split when it happened.  And as they’ve watched the two try to go it alone, they’ve secretly hoped for and awaited the day when it will finally occur to them again – Intuition and Reason – that they are not fully themselves without the other.  These friends know that Reason and Intuition’s place is right by each other’s side.

What about you?

Do you believe that Intuition and Reason can be reconciled?

Or are their differences irreconcilable?

Your comments are welcome, as always.

We know the truth, not only by the reason, but also by the heart.
~Blaise Pascal

Namaste,

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Photo credit priscila_tonon

Today I am giving up, giving in, not doing it any longer.  Running that is.  Running in pursuit of happiness.  No more pursuit.   No more chasing.  I’m going to lie down right here in this field of wildflowers and let myself be.  Happiness, if it wants me, knows where to find me.  I’ll be finding shapes in the clouds and looking for ladybugs.

I think the Greeks would agree with me.  Their idea of happiness was that it just happens to you — you are granted favor by the gods, and often for willy-nilly reasons that no one can even explain.  Even Aristotle took time out from teaching his Golden Mean to admit, “Hey, I’m not sure if these things actually make a person happy, but perhaps they’ll help.”   The ancients must have been on to something.

Even now, happiness is one of those words that doesn’t really have a verb.  It’s not actually something we can do, even though it does sound nice when we say things like this to ourselves.  We can be happy.  We can see and experience happiness.  But do happiness?  It’s all in the word itself.  Happiness … from hap … which simply means “chance.”

This was true for the Latin word for happy: Felix (from which we get today’s word, felicitous) simply meant lucky.

And this was also true for the Greek word, eudaimion, which in its literal translation meant something like “good spirit,” something like what we might call today a guardian angel or a spirit guide.  To be eudaimion in ancient Greece, therefore, was to basically have the favor of your guardian spirit.

How to get or ensure this favor?   That’s what the old, sage philosophers –like Aristotle, Socrates, and Plato – were going on about: Which actions produce it?  What do I need to do to make my guardian angel favor me?

And over that subject there was a lot of debate, and still is, even to this day. And it’s probably from them that we get the whole idea that happiness can be found or earned somehow, rather than basically be something that just seems to … happen.

So what are we knocking ourselves out about? I sure as heck don’t know.

But I’m going to take my cue today from the ancients … and from actress Lindsay Duncan.

Lindsay is the lovely Katherine, an eccentric ex-pat living in Italy, in Audrey Wells’ film, Under the Tuscan Sun.  In one of my favorite scenes, she becomes exasperated with her friend Frances (Diane Lane) for all of Frances’ constant boohooing over whether she is happy or unhappy, and finally says to her:

I used to spend hours looking for ladybugs. Finally, I’d just give up and fall asleep in the grass. When I woke up, they were crawling all over me.

What she says is not all that much different from what Nathaniel Hawthorne, two hundred years ago, said either:

Happiness is like a butterfly which, when pursued, is always beyond our grasp, but, if you will sit down quietly, may alight upon you.

So, if you’ll excuse me now, I’m tired of all this running.  I’ve got a field I want to go lie down in, with a patch of daisies calling my name.

Care to join me?

Ladybug wishes,

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Photo Credit Jeff Kubina