In the tranquil cocoon of infancy, each one of us was a beacon of pure joy. This wasn't the transient excitement that flutters and fades; it was a profound, innate contentment. Our infant cries were not expressions of unhappiness but simple, basic communication – hunger, the need for comfort. Our laughter, pure and uninhibited, was a natural response to the simplest of stimuli. This was our true state – a state of inherent happiness.
As we embarked on life's journey, the landscape of our happiness began to shift. We learned to associate joy with conditions and events. The toys we received, the approval we sought, the grades we achieved – slowly, our happiness became contingent upon these external factors.
The world around us is incessant in its narrative that it holds the key to our happiness. It bombards us with messages: Buy this, attend that, believe in this, and you will find joy. This relentless marketing of happiness often leaves us feeling more lost, chasing an elusive state that always seems just out of reach. What if this constant pursuit is nothing but a distraction, a way for external forces to exert control over our inner peace? Could it be that in our quest for happiness, we have been led astray, burdened by the very things we were told would liberate us?
I recall a pivotal moment in my life when I recognized that my baseline state of being – one of sadness, depression, and frustration – was not a natural condition but a learned one. It was a sobering realization that my quest for happiness was often a search for perfect external alignment, a constellation of conditions that seldom occurred. This led me to ponder a crucial question: Whose life was I living? The values, beliefs, and aspirations I held – were they genuinely mine, or were they inherited from the influential figures in my life? Parents, friends, teachers – each had unknowingly gifted me their perceptions, their blueprints for happiness.
This introspection brought me to a fundamental inquiry: Did I truly aspire to the lives of those who had shaped my beliefs? Were these individuals themselves embodiments of the joy and fulfillment they preached? Often, I found that the answer was no. This was a profound realization – that much of what I had accepted as the path to happiness was not my path at all. It became evident that to rediscover my true self, I needed to let go of these inherited beliefs. It was time to shed the layers of external expectations and societal norms that had obscured my inner joy.
The act of letting go is not a passive resignation but an active liberation. It involves consciously releasing the beliefs, expectations, and patterns that no longer serve our true selves. This is not an overnight transformation but a gradual process of unlearning – a journey back to our innate state of happiness.
The journey to rediscovery involves reconnecting with our true nature. It requires us to pause, reflect, and ask ourselves: What brings us genuine joy? This joy is not dependent on external validation or material possessions but is a state of being that resonates with our deepest self.
This process also involves embracing our vulnerabilities and imperfections. True happiness is not the absence of sadness or struggle; it is the ability to find peace and joy amidst life's inherent challenges. An integral part of this journey is the practice of mindfulness and gratitude. By being present in the moment and appreciative of the simple joys of life, we can start to peel back the layers of conditioned happiness. This allows us to experience joy in its purest form – unadulterated by external influences.
As we journey through this process, we come to realize that happiness was never something to be sought in the external world. It has always been within us, waiting to be rediscovered and embraced. This journey from slumber to awakening is not just about finding happiness but about returning to our original state of inner joy – a state that is our birthright and our truest nature.
Before I was enlightened I was depressed. Now that I am enlightened I am still depressed.
