Finding Joy
By Otto Do
Ms. Barry, my first grade teacher, motioned towards the front of the classroom. “Who here believes in God?”
She smiled, carrying in the folds of her face a confidence in the mission of the Bible. It was only my second year at Calvary Christian School, and my six-year-old self had never sat to ponder such a question. Hands all around me pitched upwards; the remaining took a moment to look around. Only seconds later, they too raised their hands.
I was the only one with my hand down. “Don’t worry if you didn’t raise your hand today. God will find you someday,” Ms. Barry assured us. For the rest of my elementary education, I heard the same question, but I never raised my hand—God never found me.
Religion and spirituality are topics I still struggle with. Perhaps that’s by design. Maybe we were never meant to be confident in our religiosity. In my time at home, I have come to the end of that first chapter of my religious journey. As I turn the page to its next chapter, I have come closer to one of the greatest gifts that escapes so many of us—happiness. With a newfound lesson born in a difficult time of quarantine, I hope to share my experience finding joy.
I began writing this piece, almost a guide to finding joy, long ago—long before my personal “enlightenment.” I found it difficult, though, to describe my experience finding joyful spirituality. Now, I feel I can describe that experience.
Before I go on, it’s important to preface that I am a strange human being; though extroverted, I quite enjoy my time alone. It allows me to work with greater efficiency. If I have ever told you that I wasn’t a workaholic, I lied.
For the past couple of years, my mother routinely blasted the teachings of Sahdguru, an Indian Yogi and author, from the kitchen. On any other day, I would have made fun of her for her philosophical nonsense, but today, Sadhguru caught my attention: “Happiness does not only come from achievement,” he said. I was shocked; the stars seemed to hear my questions. In a time as uncertain for the Western world as the present, perhaps foreign ways of thinking had the recipe. I listened.
“To be happy is not the ultimate aspect of life. It is the fundamental aspect of life,” he said. Why does happiness escape so many? Why does it seem so unattainable?
He continued: “The first and most fundamental responsibility for a human being is to become a joyous being. It does not matter what you are pursuing in your life, whether it is business, power, education or service. You are doing so because somewhere deep inside you is a feeling that this will bring you happiness.”
His words hit me deep within. True and unshakable happiness is that which cannot be taken by circumstance or permitted by circumstance—it is born from within and everlasting. Enthralled by his words, I revelled in his wisdom for the next five hours, binging recordings from his vast YouTube library.
The concept that happiness bound by circumstance cannot be true helped me realize that there are some burdens that come from belief in heaven. In the Christian religion, heaven is a place of refuge and purity—it is a better place. However, Sadhguru says, “One must see how to make a heaven out of himself. Otherwise, even if you are living in heaven, you will only suffer.” As I turn inward to find my own divinity, I have found safety in closing my journey with Christianity and looking forward.
Before Sadhguru’s teachings, I would yell at myself for taking moments to relax. While I’m certain many Exonians can relate to this, my situation might differ from most because no one has ever put pressure on me to succeed—perhaps it’s genetics or maybe it’s learned, but I’ve always wanted to be the most productive I can be.
Now, I realize that he who is in a constant state of happiness, of the deep and abiding kind Sadhguru speaks, is the only man who might enjoy nothingness. However, for the people of the 21st century, active nothingness is scary—especially when it’s forced.
When left with our thoughts, we might think about what we have lost as a result of this pandemic: time with our friends, senior year or maybe financial stability. Although difficult to digest, we do not benefit from focusing on losses, because we cannot change reality. Why not ask, “What do I have to gain in this time?”
For myself, I have gained the time to pursue activities that normally evade me while I’m on the Academy’s busy schedule: I spend time with family, paint, play piano for hours on end, and even learn how to find joy.
Are we happy? Are you happy? The answer is not always obvious. After all, how many of us can define happiness with confidence? Perhaps asking “Am I content?” proves less difficult. However, before you can mull over either, it’s important to understand the difference between the two. Happiness is a state of electrified elation, while contentment is a state of peace, leaning to neither the positive nor negative.
Why is that so many of us find ourselves content but unhappy? If a man constantly desires security, then he is constantly insecure. Thus, we can describe his natural state as fearful. Alas, as he is fearful, this man shall never cry the tears of joy or the tears of sorrow, for he runs from any opportunities which might give him loss and, consequently, the opportunities which might give him joy. If we separate our experiences into two categories, living or dying, then this man who epitomizes contentment or desires security does not and cannot truly live. The state of contentment is one of emotional hindrance—it dulls us. It blocks the growth into real happiness.
What will I change in my life? I will strive to sleep and rise in a joyous state. The greatest thing I can do for myself and others is to outwardly express joy, because it is indeed infectious.
My spiritual journey marches on. To close, though, I would like to thank Christianity for instilling in me values outlined in Galatians 5:22—love, joy, peace, kindness, goodness, and faithfulness. Without the influence of Christianity, I would undoubtedly have less confidence in my moral character. But, now, it is time to move on.