Tag: happiness

The Pursuit of Happiness

All men seek happiness. There are no exceptions. However different the means they may employ, they all strive towards this goal (Blaise Pascal, Pensees, #425).

But do all men really seek happiness? At first glance, it seems not. One man seeks the progress of his hobbies, another the padded security of his savings account, and another even seems to act without any forethought whatsoever.

Admittedly, as in the case of the third example, not all our actions share the same sort of intentionality. The person who nervously taps his foot as he works, may do so almost involuntary; but what of the first two examples?

Could we not find the answer by questioning those around us? I expect that if you ask someone why they took their particular job; they might say, in part, for a stable income. But why the stable income: maybe to live comfortably? But why live comfortably…for some reason which leads to another reason which will inevitably lead, in my experience, to something like a confused pause and the almost bashful admission that all was done “to be happy.”

Though the starting point for the questioning might defer, along with the litany of subsequent questions to follow, given enough questioning, the concluding aim can be expected to be revealed as ‘in order to be happy.

We can bolster the evidence by asking a similar question from a different angle. If happiness is not the goal, then its a means. But imagine someone said not “that I want to watch this new movie in order to be happy” but instead, “I want to be happy in order to watch this movie” (with happiness as a means). In the latter case doesn’t ‘happiness’ just sound manifestly misplaced? If one was happy, why bother with movies altogether?

We could repeat the exercise with other hypotheticals but the result is going to be the same. Happiness cannot be placed as a means, because it is the end.

But one may object to this stance in at least two ways.

Firstly, one might for example say, “I didn’t pick this particular movie to be happy, I did it rather randomly and carelessly.” Well, if the choice was truly made without thought, then without the intentionality that underlies human action we might call the act almost involuntary.

But if it was voluntary, then since we are rational animal (to use Aristotle’s definition of man) what we choose, we choose through reason, and thus there must be a reason for why the movie was chosen.

And that reason may lead to others and to others, but we will eventually reach not what chose by reason but by nature, in other words that which we desire simply by being human, which is happiness.

Secondly, one might say, “I didn’t decide to watch this movie this particular movie in order to be happy because I wasn’t thinking about happiness when I chose it.”

But just because one is not consciously thinking about being happy in the midst of his actions doesn’t prove that it doesn’t still motivate our actions. And we know this by experience.

For example, when someone intends to attend Mass at St. Vincent de Paul on Sunday morning, it becomes the cause of getting up early, getting dressed, not eating immediately before-hand, filling up the car with gas the night before, and driving into the parking lot, even if one is not consciously thinking about the Church every step of the way.

The end goal informs the actions in the present even without being consciously considered along the way. It becomes the reason, for example, one is looking for the car keys instead of the remote, whether or not the goal is being mulled over at the time.

In effect, the words are proved true which Aristotle spoke regarding happiness two thousand years ago, that happiness is:

…that for whose sake everything else is done (Nicomachean Ethics, Bk. I, VII).

But where is it to be found? And maybe just as importantly, if all that I do is for the sake of happiness, where do my actions prove I think happiness is? But lets us at least answer the first by closing in the words Blaise Pascal began at our beginning:

What else does this craving, and this helplessness, proclaim but that there was once in man a true happiness, of which all that now remains is the empty print and trace? This he tries in vain to fill with everything around him, seeking in things that are not there the help he cannot find in those that are, though none can help, since this infinite abyss can be filled only with an infinite and immutable object; in other words by God himself (Blaise Pascal, Ibid.).
Freedom & Authority

It’s said that when John Paul the II came to visit America, President Reagan met him at the airport and said, “Welcome to the land of the free and the home of the brave” and JPII responded, “Free…for what?”

And in that short conversation are the two aspects of freedom that will be the focus of this post.

Freedom ‘From’

The first aspect of freedom is what Servais Pinckaers, a Dominican theologian, calls a freedom of indifference. This is a freedom specifically “from” things. When the American president said the land of the free, he likely meant that we are free from tyranny, religious persecution, or historically speaking, English rule. We have a freedom from coercion or constraint, which is undoubtedly a good thing.

And this is usually the kind of freedom that comes to mind when we use the word. For example, when I asked teenagers, during a summer working at the parish, what the definition of freedom was, they said, “to be able to do whatever one wants, whenever, with whomever one wants.”

The problem with reducing the whole of freedom to this single aspect, is that this type of freedom doesn’t necessarily lead to freedom.

For example, if someone wants a college degree, a good job, or a healthy relationship, is it true that he can do whatever he wants, however he wants, with whomever he wants and still, for example, graduate college? Surely not, for if he takes the liberty not to study, he will lose the liberty to get a college degree. Or can someone do whatever he wants and have a good job? Likely not. If he takes the liberty not to show up to work he will soon lose the liberty to have a good job. Or can someone do whatever he wants and still have a healthy relationship with his spouse? Of course not. If he does whatever he wants with whomever he wants, he will, in splendid fashion, forfeit the liberty to retain his significant other.

Thus, in each of the above scenarios, in order to be free to obtain the object desired, one must at the same time actually restrict his or her freedom. But to restrict oneself is the opposite of being able to do whatever one wants. So either freedom is a contradiction within itself or there is another aspect of freedom we have yet to consider.

Freedom “For“

JPII’s statement, “free for what,” is an example of what Pinckaers calls “freedom for excellence.” This type of freedom is not necessarily concerned about being free from things but free for things. And for one thing in particular. The crowning excellence of a life well traveled, a life in which happiness is obtained (for more on happiness see here).

And if its true as Aristotle said, that happiness is the goal, “for which all other things are sought,” then the freedom most worthy of discussion is the kind that gives us the liberty to be happy.

Freedom of Excellence

To demonstrate the relationship between these two kinds of freedom, in relation to the “pursuit of happiness,” let us use a short analogy. Imagine yourself standing on the beach looking out towards an island which is called “happiness.” Also imagine, that on the shore with you their are two possible boats on which to travel to the island.

The first boat has a hole in the bottom of it. However, beached on the sand it looks perfectly fine. But, once it gets out to sea, the hull is going to fill with water and eventually sink it. It might even take a considerable amount of time to sink, but it will sink. On the other hand, the second boat on the sand is perfectly fine.

The question is: “If someone takes away your option to travel by the ‘leaky boat’; has he, in that case, diminished your freedom?”

If we consider freedom, in the first sense, the answer is clearly “yes” because the available options have been cut in half. But is that okay? Especially, since means are judged by their capacity to meet their prospective ends? I think most would agree, that in losing the option to take the “leaky boat” one actually gains freedom, he has gained the freedom to reach the end more certainly.

Freedom & Authority

What then can we about the relationship of freedom with the various authorities in experience, especially since authorities, as a rule, often restrict and narrow our number of choices.

Well again, if freedom is, to us, being able to do whatever one wants, whenever one wants, then authorities which limit our freedom, are not very helpful. They are to be avoided at the very least and may be even disliked. But again if freedom is primarily for something, if it’s for reaching our crowning end, then authorities can actually assist our freedom.

Firstly, by making us aware of the “leaky boats” in our life, and at times even removing them as an option altogether.

Secondly, by providing the structures with enable us to grow in temperance, courage, and prudence, so that over time we might develop the strength to not choose the ‘leaky boats’ in our life out of our own free choice.

Parents are a good example of this kind of beneficial authority, as parents prohibit all kinds of things, all the time, and for good reasons.

Taking myself as an example, I remember as a kid living at home and being prohibited, firstly, by my mom from sleeping in on Sundays, and secondly, by my dad, from staying out past midnight because as he put it, ‘nothing good happens after midnight.’

My parents took away options and by doing so, one gave me the freedom for life eternal through observance of the Third Commandment, and the other might have saved my life temporally, by keeping me out of danger.

Eventually, when I moved out, these “leaky boat” options became available to me; I could stay out as long as I wanted, and choose not to go to church if I wanted. Yet even then, and this ought to be goal of a good authority, old habits kept me from taking the “leaky boat” options.

Good authorities can help us to possess true freedom, the freedom that God has. God does not have the freedom to do evil or act imperfectly. His only option is excellence.

Would we ever say that a saint is less free because his virtue prevents him from evil? Or in another way, that a star-athlete, like Michael Jordan became less free when he no longer had much of a choice to miss his free-throws?

The true freedom of man is the freedom to be virtuous, to make the right decision, in the right way and at the right time, easily. This is the freedom exemplified by our Lord: the freedom to accomplish one’s course, perfectly and resolutely.

This is the freedom we too can have in Him as He Himself says, “if the Son sets you free, you are free indeed” (Jn. 8:36).
Bored

Everything’s boring, utterly boring—no one can find any meaning in it. Boring to the eye, boring to the ear (Ecclesiastes 1:8)(MSG Version).

Down here, as if by law, everything “runs out,” as Augustine puts it:

Between temporal and eternal things there is this difference: a temporal thing is loved more before we have it, and it begins to grow worthless when we gain it, for it does not satisfy the soul…(Christian Doctrine, Bk. I, Chpt. 38).

Like the setting sun, so does the luster of temporal things fade as time passes. Things get boring. Yet, what does this universal experience of boredom mean? Let’s find out.

Our Song

What else does this craving, and this helplessness, proclaim but that there was once in man a true happiness, of which all that now remains is the empty print and trace? This he tries in vain to fill with everything around him, seeking in things that are not there the help he cannot find in those that are, though none can help…(Pascal, Pensees, #425).

Think about listening to music. The first time we hear a particular song, we know very little about it, and because we know only a little, it’s only a little good to us.

But after we’ve heard the same song a couple of times, there is more that we know; now we know the chorus and the verses, and so the song is better to us. Yet, after we have heard the same song, over, and over and over again, what happens? Something is lost.

What’s fascinating is that from the first to the tenth to the hundredth time we hear a particular song, it is exactly the same. However, our experience of it is different. Why? Because at the hundredth time, we have exhausted its intelligibility.

Everything there is to know about that song we now know, have enjoyed, and it has become tiresome to us.

Take another example, we get a new car and at first, we know only a little about it, so there is only a little to enjoy. In two days, we know even more, and so the car is even more enjoyable to us, but after five years it is old, uninteresting. We rarely think about it.

Limitless

What does this prove but that all of us have a desire for a limitless good and true? And if this desire is “natural,” such that it is common to all men, then it is written in our nature, and as Aristotle says, “nature does nothing in vain” (On the Soul, Bk. III, Chpt. XII).

Therefore, just as we get thirsty because drink exists, and we get hungry because food exists, so too we all have a desire for a limitless good and true because it exists—in God. Thus, our striving for satisfaction is, itself, a search for and proof of God, who alone can fulfill us.

Imagine not knowing that. Not knowing the Gospel affirmation that we were created by God and for God. What would life be like? Would it not be a continual monotony of partial pleasures?

How frustrating would it be not knowing God, and thereby desperately striving to squeeze a limitless good out of limited things? The attempt reminds me of the Daughters of Danaus, who (according to the Greek myth) were committed to Hades with an impossible task: filling a bottomless jar.

I imagine these mythical sisters working tirelessly for an unbelievable amount of time. “Surely,” they must have thought to themselves, “the jar must be full of water by now.” Then, peeking into the jar to mark their progress, seeing no reflection, no water, only emptiness staring back at them. In the words of Scripture:

…my people have committed two evils: they have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters, and hewed out cisterns for themselves, broken cisterns, that can hold no water (Jer. 2:13).

Such is a life estranged from the Unlimited. It is like trying to fill leaking cisterns, like pouring water into a bottomless jar, or like watching things become…boring.

Tag: happiness

The Pursuit of Happiness

Freedom & Authority

Bored