Insights

On a Pedestal: Accepting Happiness

I remember sitting there, feeling both estatic and hopeless at the same time. I had made it, I was standing now on top of the hill and I felt whole. My family was great, my friends were the best and I had a wonderful relationship. Not only did I know what I was doing with my life, I knew who I was. I was truly whole.
These should have meant I was happy. I thought I was. As I went about I quickly realized something that hurt to admit. My happiness made me completely, and entirely unrelatable. I would try to comfort others, and in their sorrows I found myself, and my experience only hurt them. I felt truly selfish when another came to me and said, "I don't know what to do with my life," and my response was, "I know exactly what I am doing with mine." Or "I am struggling with my relationship," "Mine is perfect."
I determined that having a good life, felt disgusting in contrast with the lives around me. I determined, then, to keep my mouth shut. If something made me happy, truly happy, then it could only bring sorrow to someone else.
I found myself with all the joys of life, without any of the joy.

Feeling myself wallowing sadly in this place, I found myself sharing with a friend this concern. I told them that unless directly asked, I would avoid ever talking about the people or plans that made me happy. Her response alarmed me. Their response was a resounding "NO!" They explained that I should never take happiness away from myself. Avoiding what made me happy was avoiding who I truly was. It was avoiding good.
She then gave me loving council. It was not bringing it up that was bad, it was how I brought it up. Sitting by my side, she pointed out at my past experiences. I winced when I saw them, and wanted to turn away. I did not want to go back there.
"Look, you were not always here."
I shook my head. "No, but I am here now."
"Yes." Then was when she told me exactly what I needed to hear. "The trick with relating to people, is going back. You go back to when you felt how they feel now. You relate, and then apply to them what you know now."
I sat there, eyes widening at the realization. "You mean going back there?" I pointed to the dark, painful terrain I had climbed to get to the top.
"Yes. You go back there, because that is where they are. That is when they need you."
I nodded as I thought. I recognized that I never could relate because I refused to go to the times when I could. I did not want to go back anymore than those I talked to wanted to be there. However, it was what they needed.
"You will be surprised how much you lose yourself, when you go back for someone else."
After giving me valuable advice, they climbed back down and went back to their pedestal in a place I hated to be.

I can relate this experience to the Tree of Life.
How often are we at the Tree of Life, that we look back and see those who are wandering or mocking us. When we see others wandering we may find ourselves lowering our heads and hiding the precious fruit. We feel shameful to partake of it, because even as it is right in our hands, we know it is not in the hands of the others around us. We even, in our sorrow, consider throwing away the precious fruit and stepping away if only to join the crowds.
In doing this, we have joy all around us but refuse to be happy.
Being at the Tree of Life, but not taking of the fruit. This is having happiness but not being grateful for it or accepting it for the sakes of others.
We may feel being happy makes us selfish.
What we are to do is not throw away our blessings to join the miserable, it is instead holding that fruit tight in our hands, holding onto the rod and leading others to the tree.
Having the blessings of the Gospel does not make us selfish, it instead puts us in a place to help others.