The loneliness of being happy by yourself
Happiness, when fully felt, sometimes brings a surprising kind of loneliness—a longing to share the beauty you see.
Last night’s dream:
The patient in the hospital bed is resisting treatment in their confusion. The nurse tells the patient that she is in authority to give the treatment forcibly and, for the good of the patient, she intends to do so.
It becomes a tense disagreement. The patient argues.
Meanwhile, I am straddling the patient and holding them down by sitting on them.
I interrupt the argument between the patient and the nurse. I feel I know how to end the showdown. It is to soothe the patient with some perspective.
Lovingly, I say to the patient,
“Sometimes you have to accept your powerlessness.”
I feel the patient start to relax and I am ready to say more but the nurse interrupts.
She is angry. She says to me:
“Why do you have to always go around interfering?”
My confidence crumbles.
I hear myself thinking, Yeah, the way you are always getting involved in other people’s lives. You’re so codependent. And the self-recriminating spiral wants to start.
But instead, I hear myself saying to the nurse,
“I know it sucks to argue with the patient and I know you are upset, but I am not the cause of that so don’t attack me.”
The nurse stops. She looks me in the eyes for a moment. Then, she folds me into an amazing hug of apology.
A dream can mean so many things but the reminder I take from this dream is:
Take nothing personally. When people cajole us—as did the nurse in my dream—it may tell us way more about where they are at than where we are at.
Have the confidence to be the judge of your own character and behavior. Even when it is your own negative self talk that is giving you shit.
I love hearing about dreams that feel like they have something to say. Have you had one like that? Share it in the comments, and I will get back to you.
Feeling good even though it’s Monday
Speaking of waking up in fear, if that’s going to happen to me, it’s going to happen on a Monday. I spend my weekends very freely. There is a lot of spontaneity and play.
Maybe the one responsible thing I did this weekend was take the trash to the dump. The rest was meals with friends, paddle-boarding on the ocean looking for whales, walking Phene the dog, joking around.
Then, Monday comes and the voice in my head says:
“You better be a grown-up and do important things now.”
And then I don’t know how and then… a huge knot in my stomach.
If you read my blog, you might know that the last couple of months, in my personal growth, have been investigating my relationship to desire (a potentially fraught subject when you are a Zen teacher).
A student asked my own teacher (and I paraphrase):
“What is the meaning of desire.”
My teacher said, “I want.”
The student said, “How do we cut off desire?”
My teacher said, “I want.”
The student, looking confused, asked, “What is it like when we are relieved of desire?”
My teacher answered, “I want.”
LOL.
Let’s trust my teacher for a minute and trust that wanting is an indelible part of the human experience. Just as, say, the sky is blue.
Then, wanting is just wanting and it is not a contradiction of awe and gratitude. In fact, wanting becomes part of the awe and gratitude.
All of that about wanting is actually a long digression. All I really wanted to say is that—as I write this—I am having a great Monday morning with no tummy knots to be felt.
It is sunny. I love my dog. I think the autumn transition is leaving my body. Oh, and I hit my target weight.
Also, for the Zennies in the crowd, I feel present to the infinitely unchanging Truth: Everything is just like this.
A way to unblock yourself
Do you know these objections to your own desires or goals?
❌ It feels so good that it’s distracting so I better have less of it.
❌ I want this but if I do it then it will hurt person x.
❌ What I really want is _____ but that would prove I am a terrible _____.
These are the fundamental blocks I find myself facing and that, having navigated them infinity times, I help my clients navigate.
Basically, they reduce to:
🔵 I am unacceptable and so is what I want and the life I choose to lead.
That might sound overly simplistic, but often the self-rejection is deeply unconscious and takes a while and a lot of conversation to surface.
But when it does the objections can be simple–if not easy–to fix.
I call the fix:
Turn it over. Fold it in
Instead of rejecting your desire, turn the objection into part of the vision:
💡 I want this, and I want to be present too.
💡 I want this, and I want to care for the people it affects.
💡 I want this, and I can do it while being a wonderful person.
That’s how desire becomes energy instead of a block.
Here is how one might turn over and fold in the two other example statements:
I want this but if I do it then it will hurt person x becomes I want this and I will take it while being as loving of person x as I possibly can.
What I really want is _____ but that would prove I am a terrible _____ becomes What I really want is _____ and I am going to get it while being a wonderful _____.
Or something like that. Turn it over and fold it in. Welcome to accepting yourself!!
The loneliness of being happy by yourself
This happened to me a few times this summer: I’ve seen something beautiful like early morning sunlight shredded by tree branches into shafts splayed through mist.
I’ve been overwhelmed by awe. At the same time, I had a sense that I couldn’t possibly share what I felt with someone else and I started to cry out of sad happiness or happy sadness.
That is the loneliness of being happy by yourself.
I told my Zen teacher about the shredded light in the mist and crying. He reminded me of a story of a great Japanese hermit who may also have felt the loneliness of being happy by himself.
Here is that story, taken from Zen Flesh, Zen Bones, compiled by Paul Reps and Nyogen Senzaki:
Ryokan, a Zen master, lived the simplest kind of life in a little hut at the foot of a mountain. One evening a thief visited the hut only to discover there was nothing in it to steal.
Ryokan returned and caught him. "You may have come a long way to visit me," he told the prowler, "and you should not return empty-handed. Please take my clothes as a gift."
The thief was bewildered. He took the clothes and slunk away. Ryokan sat naked, watching the moon. "Poor fellow," he mused, "I wish I could give him this beautiful moon."
We cannot know how Ryokan felt, but it is possible that—not worrying about his clothes and admiring the moon—he felt a little bit of the loneliness of being happy by yourself.
There is research that shows that when we are happy, we want to share. Maybe that’s why. It’s lonely to be happy by yourself.
What’s the cure to the loneliness of being happy by yourself? Help others be happy, of course. When you look at it that way, maybe the loneliness of being happy by yourself is actually compassion.
That’s why I coach, speak and write—to spread the happiness.
The stand I choose to live my life from and to do that work from is this:
“I live in an awe and joy that inspires the creativity I need to help others live in awe and joy. I am the future of a world of leaders, creatives and teachers who also live in awe and joy, inspiring the creativity they need to help everyone else do the same.
“When we are done, finally, we will have created a world that is so safe and abundant that there is nothing left to do but play.”
A Reflection for You
Have you ever felt the loneliness of happiness?
What do you do when beauty feels too big to keep to yourself?
👉 Leave a comment or hit reply. I’d love to hear your thoughts.
Love,
Colin
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P.P.S. Music I’m Loving Right Now
Are you a fan of NPR’s Tiny Desk? I am! I adore the non-studio-produced music. Here is a Tiny Desk concert I love so much. Yeah, it’s Justin Timberlake. So shoot me.
My amazing friend Tavia introduced me to Lake Street Dive. At first, I was all “Whatever.” But Spotify kept forcing Lake Street Dive on me once I’d played them. Here are two amazing (and cheeky) songs I discovered.
Neighbor Song: It’s about hearing your neighbors having sex and wishing it was you.
Good Kisser: By the way, I’d like to think I’m a good kisser but I guess that is a decision that has to be made by the kissee. May my life be blessed with kissees who think I am a good kisser! And your life, too!Regina Spektor rocks. I love the Hotel Song for the beat and these lyrics: “Come into my world. I’ve got to show you. Come into my bed. I’ve got to know you. I have dreams of orca whales and owls but I wake up in fear.”