HAPPINESS

I was interviewed twenty years ago by a Boston TV network affiliate. They did a TV magazine spot of about 10 minutes on my resurrection from a fatal prognosis to mobility and relative health. I was living in Provincetown on the far tip of Cape Cod at the time. The indoor segment of the piece was filmed in my landlord's living room, since my tiny cottage was too small for the needed staging. It was a talking-heads interview, a la 60 Minutes. 

I had no idea what to expect. I did not see any of the piece before it aired. In fact, I did not watch it when it was aired. They did send me a VCR tape cassette copy eventually. It sat around for some time before I could bring myself to watch it. And I watched it alone, in secret.

My immediate reaction to seeing my face and hearing my voice while I was responding to questions was simply, "This guy isn't happy." Perhaps I was right. There were no calls from other media begging me to appear. NPR did call for an interview, but it never materialized. I cannot recall why.

Since then, I have developed a clearer sense of happiness and unhappiness. I also know why that younger me was indeed unhappy, despite cheating death. 

There are many levels of happiness. Just as there are many levels of sexual pleasure, gustatory pleasure and audio-visual pleasure. I believe that experiencing deep levels of happiness, refined and explored consciously, leaves a person in a general state of constantly seeking a depth of happiness which is about unbarred connection with other beings, not about satisfying appetites. That young man in that TV clip was unhappy, but he was unhappy because he had lost his easy connection with other human beings due to his special circumstances. He was truly alone in a very basic way.

"Connection" here does not mean getting drunk together in a bar or playing cards together or even sleeping together. That younger me had previously experienced connections which were uninhibited and intense on an intellectual and emotional level. He had experienced these during moments with the patients he had tended as a nurse. He had experienced these with coworkers under extreme duress. He had experienced these with family, acquaintances and lovers. These were moments of deep clarity and perception. These were moments of intense emotion. These were moments of silent recognition. 

Access to this level of connection diminishes with personal crisis. The more different a person feels, the harder it is to remain open to the connections which bring deep happiness. That younger me, as a Lazarus, was experiencing an intense moment of isolation, accentuated by being held up for public viewing. Had he been less vain and more cautious, he would most likely have declined the offer of being interviewed by reporters on TV. 

I realize now how my happiness has developed since then. I am indeed happy, the kind of happy based in knowing where I have been and where I am going on a fundamental level. Mine is the kind of happiness which is ultimately unshaken by events. It is rooted in the unshakable knowledge that I have experienced the best of human beings and other creatures in my life. I have also experienced the worst. My happiness is rooted in an acceptance of my finite being. My happiness is rooted in my true gratitude to share my days with another person whose happiness is similarly rooted. 

I know when people look at me they probably see a stern old bugger. I look older than  my years. The diseases which have plagued me have sucked away a lot of my natural vitality. A stranger cannot know that my frown originates from the fatigue and pain in my legs. It probably isn't evident that it takes a lot of planning and work to be this functional wraith in front of them. I am fairly sure most would assume that I am unhappy. And, if judged by the car I drive (ancient) or the luxury travel I do (none), I would appear a miserable, impoverished specimen. But I am not. I am actually happier than I have ever been.