“When you’re anticipating some future good, you’re preventing that good that is all around you from expressing through you .. (Don’t) put life on the layaway plan and try to anticipate that it’s going to get good in the future.”
-Rev. Dr. Michael Beckwith on Oprah “One Week Later: The Huge Reaction to The Secret.”
In first grade I had a pair of lavender Jordache jeans with dark purple stitching, The Great Bead Machine, and beautiful long hair. My class had a pet salamander and we planted lima beans in tiny containers and watched them grow. Reading was my favorite subject even though I wasn't in the advanced reading group, and I also liked music, art, and tire swings. Life was good, just as it was.
In second grade my best friend moved to Japan, my remaining group of friends kicked me out of the interpretation of Annie we were going to perform which was my idea in the first place, my teacher got sick and was out for most of the year, my grandfather died, my parents got divorced, and I got lice several times resulting in a very short, very unflattering haircut. It was not a good year.
Thinking back, I believe that this may have been when I started the pattern of thinking: "If I can just get through this day/week/month/year, then maybe the next day/week/month/year will be better."
In fifth grade I thought that my social life would surely take off in middle school. In sixth grade, I thought that once I was in eighth grade and the oldest in the school, I would have more confidence. In eighth grade, I was ousted from the popular group and I thought I would have more social opportunities once I got to high school. In ninth grade, I remember locking myself in my room for days working on an Earth Science research paper, thinking that if I could just get really good grades and get into Princeton or Harvard, then I would be happy. In high school I lived for the weekends and school breaks—summer vacation, winter holiday, spring break, mid-winter recess—and the parties and adventures they would bring.
Senior year I crossed off days on my calendar with big X's counting down until college. My junior year of college I transferred, hoping for a better fit and more happiness. Senior year of college I couldn't wait to graduate and start my life in New York. Living in New York pursuing acting and writing, I worked hard and sacrificed socializing more because I thought my life would truly begin once I had more recognition, success, money, a graduate degree, and/or a boyfriend, or at least a book deal lined up, and then I would have plenty of time for a well-rounded and balanced life.
Does any of this sound familiar?
The list goes on, but lately I have been realizing for the first time in my life that there is no "If I get (fill in the blank), then I'll be happy." It is actually a complete lie, and we all know it deep down. If it were true—that all we needed were money, success, and a mate to be happy—then that would mean that everyone who is rich, successful, and in a relationship would be deliriously happy, and we all know that this is not the case, and further know people who have a lot of the outside accoutrements and very little if any of the inner happiness.
In the past year, I have achieved many of my dreams, and some of my saddest and loneliest moments have been after achieving something I have spent years thinking would fulfill me and change everything, only to realize that I felt...exactly the same. But this is good news because it confirms that the power to be happy does not lie in outer circumstances and with other people, but within us.
