What I’ve learned about finding happiness

As a society we’re obsessed with this idea of finding happiness. Like a great game of hide-and-seek, we run here and there trying to figure out where it might be hiding.

Or we imagine happiness as something really big. A giant reservoir that we’ll magically “fall into” once we’ve checked all the boxes.

But in my experience, happiness is actually quite small. It happens in tiny bits. One breath, one interaction, one noticeable moment at a time.

“Just wait until you get there …”

The other day our family went for a hike. The destination was a bald peak where we hoped to find an unobstructed view of the surrounding mountains. En route we met about six groups of hikers on their way down. Every single person had something like this to say:

“You’re about halfway there.”

“It’s worth it!”

“Quite a view up there today!”

Of course, we were happy to hear such cheerful reports of what awaited us at the end of a long, steep-at-times hike.

But the danger of a summit hike, and life in general, is that we can become so focused on our destination that we forget to enjoy the steps along the way. After all, a hike is much more than the view at the end.

It’s the waist-high carpet of ferns, the trickling stream, and the light filtering through the trees. It’s the quiet anticipation of not knowing what’s around the next bend, and that moment of surprise when the scenery unveils itself.

Happiness is like that. It’s not a place we’re going. It’s where we are.

The soft earth in your hands as you tuck a seedling into the ground. The rush of adrenaline as you dive into a cold lake. That sense of familiarity with someone you’ve just met. A kindness extended for no particular reason.

Happiness is being present to the birds singing and the sweet smell of lilac outside your door. It’s noticing the butterfly fluttering from flower to flower, the taste of a fresh strawberry, the soft in and out of your breath.

It’s not pushing back on what is or pulling toward what we think should be.

Happiness is settling in — right here, right now. And being intensely aware of our aliveness.

It’s also letting go of expectations.

We have this illusion that once we “fall into” happiness, we should — if everything goes well and we’re doing our job — stay there. But it’s the meandering dance, between the light and the shadow, that provides form and definition to the experience of happiness.

If we were in a perpetual state of bliss, we would become numb to it. There would be no “ah ha” moments.

What is there to be happy about?

All of this became clear to me yesterday, as I was driving down the road and I suddenly realized that I was feeling … well, happy. I asked myself, “Why now?” Absolutely nothing exceptional was going on.

I had just left the nursery where I had bought a handful of plants to put in my garden. At the greenhouse I had enjoyed chatting with a gardener about the different varieties of green peas. The sun was shining. I was caught up on work projects, for the most part. And everyone I loved was off having their own experiences for the day.

I wasn’t worried or anxious or distracted. I was simply driving down the road with my plants and some new information about peas. I was fully present to the gentle climb of the road, the bright blue sky, the breeze through the open window.

I have these moments all the time. When nothing notable is happening. No one’s presenting me with an award for my hard work or looking longingly into my eyes. I’m not sitting behind the wheel of a fancy new car or polishing the last window in a sparkling-clean house.

But if I stopped to notice, I’d realize that I’m deeply content. I’m happy.

Spend two minutes watching the latest round of ads, and this is what they’ll tell you: Happiness is something you pursue and is only available to you when you’ve met certain criteria, when you’ve reached the pinnacle (of whatever mountain you’re climbing or goal you’re trying to reach).

What a relief to know they’re wrong. Happiness is much smaller and simpler, and more easily attainable than we might imagine. It begins in this very moment. When we’re fully present — and connected — to whoever or whatever is right in front of us. In a very real sense, we’re at one with the world around us.

I can’t tell you how long that feeling of happiness lasted yesterday. Maybe a half hour or so. I’m sure I got home and found something to fret about.

But even now, as I tick off the to-dos on my list, feeling more frazzle than joy, I know that happiness is right here with me. Just one deep breath, one noticeable moment away.