Lev Tolstoy notes at the beginning of Anna Karenina that “happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” I suppose we might as well replace the word “family” here with “individual human being”. Looking around us, we would find many people unhappy for a thousand and one reasons. But turning to those happy men and women, we would perceive only one truth, that is, happiness comes from doing things one really loves and is engaged in basically for its own sake.
Man is an animal. Both his instincts and his needs of survival direct that he should do something in his lifetime. It is what he does that matters. Does he take up one thing because he appreciates it or just because he wants the material things that it will bring to him? Too often we do something just because it is profitable or beneficial, or, even worse, just because it is forced upon us. As a result, we may become millionaires or billionaires, pop stars or distinguished statesmen, but we don’t have happiness. Each individual is endowed with some traits and inclinations in his character. In combination with environmental factors these traits and inclinations will shape his interests or preferences. If he is allowed to develop his body and mind in a natural way, to live as his interests or preferences best guide him, he will be largely immune from the incongruities and contradictions that are so commonly found in an unhappy soul and feels free and joyful about life. If, however, he has to do things which he actually has no mind for, he will feel bored and unhappy — a revenge of his nature. And if the process lasts long enough, a frustrated or resentful being will most probably be the result.
In this respect, I cannot help thinking of two high school classmates of mine, both of whom are now college students. The first one may rightly be called a born engineer. When he was a young boy, he would find great joy in first dismantling and then reassembling whatever gadgets he might lay his hands on. He was always inventing or innovating on something. Even the sight of his baby sister in his mother’s arms would set him conjuring up the vision of a better crib made with his own hands. Two years ago, he chose to enroll in a technical school to study mechanical engineering and he is now very much contented with his life, which he describes as “going on the right track”.
The second classmate of mine, a college student in his third year in a university majoring in computer science, is not at all so cheerful. He is by no means a dull boy, but he does not seem to have any special interest other than music. His parents pushed him into science “for his future”. Unfortunately, three years have passed and he has still not cultivated an appetite for the specialty his parents chose for him. He has been grumbling about the “tyranny of education” and waiting impatiently for the day when he can graduate and leave the university. I genuinely sympathize with him, since I well remember how I felt when I had to work as a repairman when what really interested me was English and oil painting. Albert Einstein said: “Interest is the best teacher.” I think it is also the best nurse of a happy mind.
It is generally claimed — with good reasons — that material conditions are essential for happiness. If by material conditions is meant food and drink and other necessities of life, the claim is certainly justified. If, however, the claim is made in reference to the incessant pursuit for and acquisition of every possible article which makes life comfortable and appeases one’s physical desires, I’d say that the idea will sooner or later prove to be mistaken. One of man’s natural endowments, that which makes him different from other animals, is that he has access to pleasures derived from many things other than physical ones. A true love of one’s work, and the satisfaction derived from one’s achievements in it, a tender passion for somebody one truly loves or the feeling of being loved by one’s dearest ones, a commitment to something one feels having a calling for, all these and many more may give one immeasurable happiness in spite of poor material conditions. We may turn to the life of Canadian doctor Norman Bethune to see that. As a human being, Dr. Bethune hated the fascists; as a doctor, he loved both seeing blood and stopping bleeding (Ted Allen & Sydney Gordon. [1952]. The Scalpel, the Sword: The Story of Dr. Norman Bethune. New York: Monthly Review Press.). So he abandoned all the physical comforts in which he had lived in Canada, and went first to Spain and then came to China to help with the people who were fighting for national survival against Fascist invaders. He spent in China what were perhaps the hardest years in his life, and yet, before he died at his post on this land which was so far away from his home country, he told his Chinese comrades in his will that he had been “very happy” in his stay with them.
It is for certain that there is no such thing as absolute happiness. Happiness varies from individual to individual and from time to time. One person may be happy as a scholar, another may be equally happy as a fisherman. When we are young children, we are happy to receive from our parents. In adulthood, we are happy to give and take, to dedicate and to possess. When we get old, we will be happy to give without asking for anything in return. But all the time, so long as we do what our heart and soul direct us to do, we will be as happy as the day is long.