Genuinely Happy And Contented Quotes

It dawns on me that I haven't seen him genuinely happy in forever. I've been so concentrated on my own unhappiness that I haven't noticed his. I've been fooling myself by thinking he's been content all along. How arrogant, to assume he was content with me when I so obviously wasn't content with him.

At the end of the day, there are very few people around you who truly want to see you peaceful, happy and content. Most of your friends only want to see you happy, peaceful and content, in ratio to their own happiness, peace and contentment. It's like, "Yeah, I want all your dreams to come true and I want to see you smile, but only for as much as I smile and only in proportion to how many of my own dreams come true." That's what people today call, "friendship" and "care". It's not really friendship and it's not really care. Then there's like one or two people who would celebrate your own happiness and success even if it's out of proportion to their own. And that's a real blessing right there, that's a real friendship.

If rank and money come with love and virtue, also, I should accept them gratefully, and enjoy your good fortune, but I know, by experience, how much genuine happiness can be had in a plain little house, where the daily bread is earned, and in some privations give sweetness to the few pleasures. I am content to see Meg begin humbly, for if I am not mistaken, she will be rich in the possession of a good man's heart, and that is better than fortune.

Why is this painful journey so indispensable to the acquisition of true wisdom?…It is as if the mind were a squeamish organ that refused to entertain difficult truths unless encouraged to do so by difficult events. “Happiness is good for the body,” Proust tells us, “but it is grief which develops the strengths of the mind.” These griefs put us through a form of mental gymnastics which we would have avoided in happier times. Indeed, if a genuine priority is the development of our mental capacities, the implication is that we would be better off being unhappy than content, better off pursuing tormented love affairs than reading Plato or Spinoza. (Proust writes) A woman whom we need and who makes us suffer elicits from us a whole gamut of feelings far more profound and more vital than does a man of genius who interests us.

The people in your life either understand where you are coming from or they don't. It's not your job to convince them that you're happy or a legitimate adult. It's also not your job to determine whether another's perceived self-satisfaction is born of genuine contentment or insecurity. Your job is to take care of yourself so you can meet others where they are.

There will be times, for example, when you feel you are faking it. However hard you try genuinely to practice, it just doesn't feel right. And on the rare occasions it does feel authentic, the sensation is over almost before it began. So, try to be content with your practice, whatever it feels like, even when you are doing little more than paying it lip service, because at least you are making an effort.

Genuinely happy people do not just sit around being content. They make things happen. They pursue new understandings, seek new achievements, and control their thoughts and feelings.

In treating people as less important than things, work becomes both demoralised and demoralising and we become blind to the moral content of our decisions...Money and wilfful blindness make us act in ways incompatible wiht what believe our ethics to be, and often even with our own self-interest...the problem with money isn't fundamentally about greed, although it can be comforting to think so. The problem with money is that we live in societies in which mutual support and co-operation is essential, but money erodes the relationships we need to lead productive, fulfilling and genuinely happy lives. When money becomes the dominant behavior, it doesn't cooperate with, or amplify, our relationships; it disengages us from them.

If we observe genuinely happy people, we shall find that they do not just sit around being contented. They make things happen. They pursue new understandings, seek new achievements, and control their thoughts and feelings. In sum, our intentional, effortful activities have a powerful effect on how happy we are, over and above the effects of our set points and the circumstances in which we find themselves. If an unhappy person wants to experience interest, enthusiasm, contentment, peace, and joy, he or she can make it happen by learning the habits of a happy person.

I’m not ambitious for a splendid fortune, but I know, by experience, how much genuine happiness can be had in a plain little house, where the daily bead is earned, and some privations give sweetness to the few pleasures. I am content to see Meg begin humbly, for if I am not mistaken, she will be rich in the possession of a good man’s heart, and that is better than a fortune.

One splendid summer afternoon Kaspar realized he had never been happier in his life or both of his lives, past and present. Not fireworks-orgasms-and-champagne happy, but on waking in the morning he was glad almost every single day to be exactly where he was. He had never before experienced the feeling of genuine, constant well-being and it was a true revelation. The longer the satisfaction continued, the less he thought about his previous life as a mechanic and the extraordinary things he’d once seen and been able to do. Misery may love company but happiness is content to be alone. The funny irony of his existence now was, as long as he was this happy and content with his lot, Kaspar didn’t need to make much of an effort to “walk away” from his mechanic’s life because now he was sated with this one both in mind and heart.

I wanted to be normal again. I wanted to be genuinely happy again and not just pretend. I didn’t want distorted mirror images to destroy and define my life any longer. I wished to breathe in the customary air, instead of the suffocating one people like me had accustomed themselves to breathe. I just wanted to break through these metal rods that I’d been caged behind for the last two years of my life. I wanted to feel plain, simple, genuine contentment again. I wanted to; I needed to.

ultimately, most of us would choose a rich and meaningful life over an empty, happy one, if such a thing is even possible. “Misery serves a purpose,” says psychologist David Myers. He’s right. Misery alerts us to dangers. It’s what spurs our imagination. As Iceland proves, misery has its own tasty appeal. A headline on the BBC’s website caught my eye the other day. It read: “Dirt Exposure Boosts Happiness.” Researchers at Bristol University in Britain treated lung-cancer patients with “friendly” bacteria found in soil, otherwise known as dirt. The patients reported feeling happier and had an improved quality of life. The research, while far from conclusive, points to an essential truth: We thrive on messiness. “The good life . . . cannot be mere indulgence. It must contain a measure of grit and truth,” observed geographer Yi-Fu Tuan. Tuan is the great unheralded geographer of our time and a man whose writing has accompanied me throughout my journeys. He called one chapter of his autobiography “Salvation by Geography.” The title is tongue-in-cheek, but only slightly, for geography can be our salvation. We are shaped by our environment and, if you take this Taoist belief one step further, you might say we are our environment. Out there. In here. No difference. Viewed that way, life seems a lot less lonely. The word “utopia” has two meanings. It means both “good place” and “nowhere.” That’s the way it should be. The happiest places, I think, are the ones that reside just this side of paradise. The perfect person would be insufferable to live with; likewise, we wouldn’t want to live in the perfect place, either. “A lifetime of happiness! No man could bear it: It would be hell on Earth,” wrote George Bernard Shaw, in his play Man and Superman. Ruut Veenhoven, keeper of the database, got it right when he said: “Happiness requires livable conditions, but not paradise.” We humans are imminently adaptable. We survived an Ice Age. We can survive anything. We find happiness in a variety of places and, as the residents of frumpy Slough demonstrated, places can change. Any atlas of bliss must be etched in pencil. My passport is tucked into my desk drawer again. I am relearning the pleasures of home. The simple joys of waking up in the same bed each morning. The pleasant realization that familiarity breeds contentment and not only contempt. Every now and then, though, my travels resurface and in unexpected ways. My iPod crashed the other day. I lost my entire music collection, nearly two thousand songs. In the past, I would have gone through the roof with rage. This time, though, my anger dissipated like a summer thunderstorm and, to my surprise, I found the Thai words mai pen lai on my lips. Never mind. Let it go. I am more aware of the corrosive nature of envy and try my best to squelch it before it grows. I don’t take my failures quite so hard anymore. I see beauty in a dark winter sky. I can recognize a genuine smile from twenty yards. I have a newfound appreciation for fresh fruits and vegetables. Of all the places I visited, of all the people I met, one keeps coming back to me again and again: Karma Ura,

I have extended the ‘good-enough’ theory to most of my life and now my death. We are, at times, so often obsessed or feel pressurised into ‘being the best at …, the fastest at …, the cleverest at …’ I genuinely worry about all of this positive thinking/life coaching! … It is undoubtedly excellent to strive to achieve one’s maximum potential, but that should be to please ourselves, not be judged by others, and for me having led a ‘good-enough’ life with its share of wonders and disasters, I am content and so, ready for a ‘good-enough’ death.

To the enormous majority of persons who risk themselves in literature, not even the smallest measure of success can fall. They had better take to some other profession as quickly as may be, they are only making a sure thing of disappointment, only crowding the narrow gates of fortune and fame. Yet there are others to whom success, though easily within their reach, does not seem a thing to be grasped at. Of two such, the pathetic story may be read, in the Memoir of A Scotch Probationer, Mr. Thomas Davidson, who died young, an unplaced Minister of the United Presbyterian Church, in 1869. He died young, unaccepted by the world, unheard of, uncomplaining, soon after writing his latest song on the first grey hairs of the lady whom he loved. And she, Miss Alison Dunlop, died also, a year ago, leaving a little work newly published, Anent Old Edinburgh, in which is briefly told the story of her life. There can hardly be a true tale more brave and honourable, for those two were eminently qualified to shine, with a clear and modest radiance, in letters. Both had a touch of poetry, Mr. Davidson left a few genuine poems, both had humour, knowledge, patience, industry, and literary conscientiousness. No success came to them, they did not even seek it, though it was easily within the reach of their powers. Yet none can call them failures, leaving, as they did, the fragrance of honourable and uncomplaining lives, and such brief records of these as to delight, and console and encourage us all. They bequeath to us the spectacle of a real triumph far beyond the petty gains of money or of applause, the spectacle of lives made happy by literature, unvexed by notoriety, unfretted by envy. What we call success could never have yielded them so much, for the ways of authorship are dusty and stony, and the stones are only too handy for throwing at the few that, deservedly or undeservedly, make a name, and therewith about one-tenth of the wealth which is ungrudged to physicians, or barristers, or stock-brokers, or dentists, or electricians. If literature and occupation with letters were not its own reward, truly they who seem to succeed might envy those who fail. It is not wealth that they win, as fortunate men in other professions count wealth; it is not rank nor fashion that come to their call nor come to call on them. Their success is to be let dwell with their own fancies, or with the imaginations of others far greater than themselves; their success is this living in fantasy, a little remote from the hubbub and the contests of the world. At the best they will be vexed by curious eyes and idle tongues, at the best they will die not rich in this world’s goods, yet not unconsoled by the friendships which they win among men and women whose faces they will never see. They may well be content, and thrice content, with their lot, yet it is not a lot which should provoke envy, nor be coveted by ambition.

There was one monk who never spoke up. His name was Vappa, and he seemed the most insecure about Gautama coming back to life. When he was taken aside and told that he would be enlightened, Vappa greeted the news with doubt. “If what you tell me is true, I would feel something, and I don’t,” he said. “When you dig a well, there is no sign of water until you reach it, only rocks and dirt to move out of the way. You have removed enough; soon the pure water will flow,” said Buddha. But instead of being reassured, Vappa threw himself on the ground, weeping and grasping Buddha’s feet. “It will never happen,” he moaned. “Don’t fill me with false hope.” “I’m not offering hope,” said Buddha. “Your karma brought you to me, along with the other four. I can see that you will soon be awake.” “Then why do I have so many impure thoughts?” asked Vappa, who was prickly and prone to outbursts of rage, so much so that the other monks were intimidated by him. “Don’t trust your thoughts,” said Buddha. “You can’t think yourself awake.” “I have stolen food when I was famished, and there were times when I stole away from my brothers and went to women,” said Vappa. “Don’t trust your actions. They belong to the body,” said Buddha. “Your body can’t wake you up.” Vappa remained miserable, his expression hardening the more Buddha spoke. “I should go away from here. You say there is no war between good and evil, but I feel it inside. I feel how good you are, and it only makes me feel worse.” Vappa’s anguish was so genuine that Buddha felt a twinge of temptation. He could reach out and take Vappa’s guilt from his shoulders with a touch of the hand. But making Vappa happy wasn’t the same as setting him free, and Buddha knew he couldn’t touch every person on earth. He said, “I can see that you are at war inside, Vappa. You must believe me when I say that you’ll never win.” Vappa hung his head lower. “I know that. So I must go?” “No, you misunderstand me,” Buddha said gently. “No one has ever won the war. Good opposes evil the way the summer sun opposes winter cold, the way light opposes darkness. They are built into the eternal scheme of Nature.” “But you won. You are good; I feel it,” said Vappa. “What you feel is the being I have inside, just as you have it,” said Buddha. “I did not conquer evil or embrace good. I detached myself from both.” “How?” “It wasn’t difficult. Once I admitted to myself that I would never become completely good or free from sin, something changed inside. I was no longer distracted by the war; my attention could go somewhere else. It went beyond my body, and I saw who I really am. I am not a warrior. I am not a prisoner of desire. Those things come and go. I asked myself: Who is watching the war? Who do I return to when pain is over, or when pleasure is over? Who is content simply to be? You too have felt the peace of simply being. Wake up to that, and you will join me in being free.” This lesson had an immense effect on Vappa, who made it his mission for the rest of his life to seek out the most miserable and hopeless people in society. He was convinced that Buddha had revealed a truth that every person could recognize: suffering is a fixed part of life. Fleeing from pain and running toward pleasure would never change that fact. Yet most people spent their whole lives avoiding pain and pursuing pleasure. To them, this was only natural, but in reality they were becoming deeply involved in a war they could never win.

Returning to his homeland, he had been refused both the position and the funding he would need to cure the entire nation with his miraculous practice and, by the time we met, resentment had seeped into almost every aspect of his person. Dr. Ramiz's great passion for social issues served only to feed his anger. After speaking with him for several hours, or rather suffering his complaints, his analyses of social ills, and his assorted musings of the future, I could neither imagine nor indeed genuinely wish for a world in which all might attain happiness through work befitting their person or capacity. And so it was on that first day that I realized Dr. Ramiz was the incarnation of discontent. Although possessed of a fine arsenal of bon mots -words and phrases like "adolescence," "domestic issues," "public education," "production," and, in particular, "activity," were forever trickling out of his mouth - he was the kind of man who never could apply himself to a task for very long and who was only content when complaining or occupying himself with mandatory tasks, which is why, despite a fine position and a fixed place in society, he saw himself as a miserable and mistreated man with a dim future...Since his return from Vienna, he had, in his bitterness, swept his life empty of friends.

Contentment has no enemies, despair has no friends; apathy has many acquaintances, satisfaction has many friends. Joy has no enemies, sorrow has no friends; grief has many acquaintances, happiness has many friends. Forgiveness has no enemies, bitterness has no friends; vengeance has many acquaintances, sympathy has many friends. Truth has no enemies, falsehood has no friends; dishonesty has many acquaintances, trustworthiness has many friends. Patience has no enemies, intolerance has no friends; restlessness has many acquaintances, long suffering has many friends. Sincerity has no enemies, deceitfulness has no friends; hypocrisy has many acquaintances, genuineness has many friends. Kindness has no enemies, hostility has no friends; meanness has many acquaintances, hospitality has many friends. Charity has no enemies, stinginess has no friends; miserliness has many acquaintances, generosity has many friends. Pleasure has no enemies, pain has no friends; boredom has many acquaintances, excitement has many friends. Faith has no enemies, despair has no friends; doubt has many acquaintances, courage has many friends. Wisdom has no enemies, ignorance has no friends; folly has many acquaintances, prudence has many friends. Virtue has no enemies, vice has no friends; immorality has many acquaintances, goodness has many friends. Love has no enemies, wrath has no friends; anger has many acquaintances, compassion has many friends. Life has no enemies, death has no friends; regret has many acquaintances, existence has many friends. Time has no enemies, procrastination has no friends; fate has many acquaintances, destiny has many friends.

We arrived here yesterday . The ambassador is indisposed and will therefore be staying indoors for a few days. If only he were not so morose, all would be well. I can see all too clearly Fate has severe trials in store for me. But courage! A lighthearted spirit can put up with anything. A light heart? It makes me laugh, the way the words flow from my pen: oh, if there were a little more lightheartedness in my veins I should be the happiest creature under the sun. Am I to despair of my own powers, my own gifts, when others with paltry abilities and talents go showing off, smugly self-satisfied? Dear God who bestowed all these gifts on me, why didst Thou not keep half back, and in their place grant me confidence and contentment? Patience! Patience! All will improve. And I tell you, my dear fellow, you were right. I feel far better within myself now that I am among these people, kept busy day in, day out, watching their doings and goings-on. It is true that, since we are so constituted as to be forever comparing ourselves with others and our surroundings with ourselves, our happiness or misery depends on the things in our environment; and, this being so, nothing is more dangerous than solitude. It is in the nature of our imagination to be rising, impelled and nurtured by the fantastic images of poetry; and it conceives of a chain of beings with ourselves as the most inferior and everything else more glorious and with greater perfections. All of this is quite natural. We often feel that we lack something and seem to see that very quality in someone else, promptly attributing all our own qualities to him too, and a kind of ideal contentment as well. And so the happy mortal is a model of complete perfection – which we have ourselves created. On the other hand, once we set to work diligently, in spite of all our shortcomings and the toilsomeness of it, we quite often find that in our leisurely, tacking style we make better headway than others who sail and row – and it gives us a genuine sense of ourselves, to keep pace with others or indeed outstrip them.

Notice something pleasant that’s already present in your experience. Perhaps a relaxed sense of breathing, comfort, or curiosity.      •  Find something good in your immediate situation. Perhaps something sturdy, well made, protective, useful, or beautiful, such as a cozy chair, a tree out the window, or a picture on the wall.      •  Think of something you are glad about, in your life these days or in your past. It could be as simple as having a roof over your head.      •  Bring to mind someone who makes you feel cared about. It need not be a perfect relationship, but the caring—the warmth for you, the wishing you well—is genuine.      •  Bring to mind someone you like.      •  Think of some things that help you feel strong … peaceful … grateful … happy … loved … loving.

Finding Genuine Peace But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ. For He Himself is our peace. Ephesians 2:13-14 NKJV On many occasions, our outer struggles are simply manifestations of the inner conflicts that we feel when we stray from God’s path. What’s needed is a refresher course in God’s promise of peace. The beautiful words of John 14:27 remind us that Jesus offers peace, not as the world gives, but as He alone gives: “Peace I leave with you. My peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Your heart must not be troubled or fearful” (HCSB). As believers, our challenge is straightforward: we should welcome Christ’s peace into our hearts and then, as best we can, share His peace with others. Today, as a gift to yourself, to your family, and to your friends, invite Christ to preside over every aspect of your life. It’s the best way to live and the surest path to peace … today and forever. To know God as He really is—in His essential nature and character—is to arrive at a citadel of peace that circumstances may storm, but can never capture. Catherine Marshall In the center of a hurricane there is absolute quiet and peace. There is no safer place than in the center of the will of God. Corrie ten Boom I believe that in every time and place it is within our power to acquiesce in the will of God—and what peace it brings to do so! Elisabeth Elliot I want first of all…to be at peace with myself. I want a singleness of eye, a purity of intention, a central core to my life…. I want, in fact—to borrow from the language of the saints—to live “in grace” as much of the time as possible. Anne Morrow Lindbergh When we do what is right, we have contentment, peace, and happiness. Beverly LaHaye Prayer guards hearts and minds and causes God to bring peace out of chaos. Beth Moore Every one of us is supposed to be a powerhouse for God, living in balance and harmony within and without.

The happiest among us experience moods, setbacks and adversity, and they feel sorrow and grief just like the rest of us. But they know that sorrow and grief are stages in dealing with setbacks, not permanent conditions or places to reside. At their core, happy people have an underlying and almost always available source of contentment. We have all known people who are constantly in a storm, others who start the storm. Genuinely happy people are often the eye of the storm, where it is calm. They have a foundation that gives them ballast, stability, peace.

Starting today, declare your devotion to remembering the sublime soul, brave warrior and undefeatable creator that your natural wisdom is calling on you to be. The trials of your past have skillfully served to reinvent you into one who is tougher, more aware of the powers that make you special and more grateful for the basic blessings of a life beautifully lived—splendid health, a happy family, a job that fulfils and a hopeful heart. These apparent difficulties have actually been the stepping stones for your current and future victories. The former limits that have shackled you and the “failures” that have hurt you have been necessary for the realization of your mastery. All is unfolding for your benefit. You truly are favored. Oh yes, whether you accept this or not, you are a lion, not a sheep. A leader, never a victim. A person worthy of exceptional accomplishment, uplifting adventure, flawless contentment and the self-respect that, over time, rises steeply into a reservoir of self-love that no one and no thing can ever conquer. You are a mighty force of nature and a dynamic producer, not a slumbering casualty caught flat-footed in a world of degrading mediocrity, dehumanizing complaint, compliance and entitlement. And with steadfast commitment and regular effort, you will evolve into an idealist, an unusual artist and a potent exceptionalist. A genuine world-changer, in your own most honest and excellent way. So be not a cynic, critic and naysayer. For doubters are degenerated dreamers. And average is absolutely unworthy of you. Today, and for each day that follows of your uniquely glorious, brilliantly luminous and most-helpful-to-many life, stand fiercely in the limitless freedom to shape your future, materialize your ambitions and magnify your contributions in high esteem of your dreams, enthusiasms and dedications. Insulate your cheerfulness, polish your prowess and inspire all witnesses fortunate enough to watch your good example of how a great human being can behave. We will watch your growth, applaud your gifts, appreciate your valor and admire your eventual immortality. As you remain within the hearts of many.

People who are content with what they don't know, happy to remain ignorant about what they don't understand, complacent about what they haven't analyzed, and comfortable living with problems they haven't solved—such people cannot lead. Leaders need to have an insatiable curiosity. They need to be people who are hungry to find answers. Knowledge is power. Whoever has the information has the lead. If you want to find a leader, look for someone who is asking the right questions and genuinely looking for answers.

This feeling of irritability and alienation meant I was malleable. Have you ever tried to argue with someone who doesn’t want anything from you? It’s hard. Have you ever noticed in a row with someone that no longer loves you that you have no recourse? No tools with which to bargain. If you stroll up to a stranger and tell them that unless they comply with your demands they’ll never see you again, it’s unlikely that they’ll fling themselves at your feet and beg you not to go. They’ll just wander off. When people are content, they are difficult to maneuver. We are perennially discontent and offered placebos as remedies. My intention in writing this book is to make you feel better, to offer you a solution to the way you feel. I am confident that this is necessary. When do you ever meet people that are happy? Genuinely happy? Only children, the mentally ill, and daytime television presenters. My belief is that it is possible to feel happier, because I feel better than I used to. I am beginning to understand where the solution lies, primarily because of an exhausting process of trial and mostly error. My qualification to write a book on how to change yourself and change the world is not that I’m better than you, it’s that I’m worse. Not that I’m smarter, but that I’m dumber: I bought the lie hook, line, and sinker. My only quality has been an unwitting momentum, a willingness to wade through the static dissatisfaction that has been piped into my mind from the moment I learned language. What if that feeling of inadequacy, isolation, and anxiety isn’t just me? What if it isn’t internally engineered but the result of concerted effort, the product of a transmission? An ongoing broadcast from the powerful that has colonized my mind? Who is it in here, inside your mind, reading these words, feeling that fear? Is there an awareness, an exempt presence, gleaming behind the waterfall of words that commentate on every event, label every object, judge everyone you come into contact with? And is there another way to feel? Is it possible to be in this world and feel another way? Can you conceive, even for a moment, of a species similar to us but a little more evolved, that have transcended the idea that solutions to the way we feel can be externally acquired? What would that look like? How would that feel—to be liberated from the bureaucracy of managing your recalcitrant mind. Is it possible that there is a conspiracy to make us feel this way? If we were cops right now, we’d look for a motive. If our peace of mind, our God-given right to live in harmony with our environment and one another, has been murdered, who are the prime suspects? Well, who has a motive?

Facing our true selves is the first step toward living a life of purpose, connection, and genuine joy.

My father is strange, he said, if that needs to be said at all, since everyone is strange except colorless and faceless people, who again are strange since they have nothing of their own. In other words, their character is precisely their lack of character. Except every one of us, of course, because we grow so accustomed to ourselves that everything that’s different from us seems strange, so it could be said that whatever is not us is strange. So my father is strange because he thinks that I’m strange, and the other way around, and so on and so forth. There’s no end to our strangeness, and maybe we should consider that in itself strange. The difference between them is that his father thinks that he, Hassan, has brought misery upon himself with his way of life. And Hassan is convinced that there are many ways for a man to bring misery upon himself, but the least likely way is to do what he wants as long as it doesn’t disgrace him. And so, it turns out that his father is miserable because Hassan is content, and his father’s idea of happiness, both his own and that of his family, would be for Hassan to be genuinely unhappy.

I…I thought you were going to heal my lip.” Sylvan stroked her hair which had come loose from the knot at the back of her neck and now cascaded down her shoulders in soft chestnut waves. “I thought your heart needed healing first.” She shifted against him, getting more comfortable. “This is nice,” she admitted softly. “I…I’m sorry I freaked out on you.” “The fault is entirely mine,” Sylvan murmured. “The urlich aroused my protective rage. And then I got so completely focused on marking you I forgot to consider your feelings. Can you forgive me?” “I…I think so.” She looked up at him. “I guess you can’t help the way you get when there’s an enemy around. But please just…don’t come at me that way again.” “I won’t. I swear it.” He meant it from the bottom of his heart and Sophia seemed to sense his sincerity. “Thank you,” she whispered, her gaze still locked with his. “I…I appreciate that.” “I don’t want you to fear me.” Sylvan heard the break in his own voice but he couldn’t help it. “I would die to protect you, Sophia. To think you would believe I could hurt you in any way—especially that way…” But he couldn’t go on. “Sylvan…” She was looking at him with something like wonder on her face. “You…you’re crying,” she whispered. She sounded like she could hardly believe it. Sylvan didn’t believe it himself. “No, I’m not.” He had never given in to such emotion, never allowed himself such weakness before. Even after his father’s passing and Feenah’s betrayal, not so much as a single tear had come to his eyes. But Sophia was nodding. “Yes, you are. Or at least, you’re sort of leaking a little.” Reaching up, she brushed lightly at his cheek. “See?” She held out her hand. To his surprise her fingertips were wet. “I’m sorry,” he said stiffly. “Why?” Sophia sounded genuinely curious. He shook his head. “To show such weakness before one I am supposed to protect…it is unacceptable. Unforgivable.” “No, it’s not.” Suddenly she put her arms around his neck and hugged him. “It’s not, Sylvan,” she whispered in his ear, pressing her soft cheek against his. “Not at all, I promise you.” His heart swelled until he thought it might burst and he hugged her back carefully. He no longer cared if the urlich and the AllFather with all his hellish legions came upon him and killed him. At that moment, with Sophia willingly in his arms and her sweet feminine fragrance invading his senses, he knew he could die a happy and contented male.

Others have argued that moral virtue in and by itself will naturally bring happiness in its train. Plato, for instance, argues that the moral integrity of the virtuous individual constitutes a sort of inner harmony, which he contrasts with the disharmony exhibited by the wicked. Since a person cannot fail, at some level, to experience this internal condition, the virtuous will be fundamentally content, while those who lack virtue will be unavoidably dissatisfied. Plato’s conclusion is endorsed by most of the classical thinkers who came after him. The Stoics in particular insistently emphasize the supreme importance of moral virtue over all other good things. Thus Marcus Aurelius, echoing Socrates, insists that the only real harm one can ever suffer is harm to one’s character,1 while Seneca asserts that “virtue per se is sufficient for a happy life.”2 Hard-bitten cynics may think it easy to dismiss all this as a kind of wishful thinking. But in fact this view—that good people should nearly always be considered more fortunate than those who lack the moral virtues—is very plausible. Compare two people: Jill, who genuinely feels pleasure at a colleague’s success, and Jane, who feels intense pleasure at a colleague’s failure. Who would you prefer to be? Most of us will of course opt to be Jill. An obvious reason for this is that we view her as the nicer person. But what if we put aside moral considerations? We grant that Jill is the more admirable person, but who do we think it is pleasanter to be? Plato’s thinking suggests that Jill’s condition is also the more enviable. One obvious reason is that, being a nicer person, she is likely to have more friends, to have better friends, to be more confident of their affection, and to enjoy relationships not sullied by resentment. But a subtler reason, not so easy to articulate, is that Jill’s generous-spirited pleasure in another person’s good fortune is superior to—and not just in moral terms—the mean-spirited enjoyment of a colleague’s failure. Of course, it is not easy to abstract this sense of nonmoral superiority from its moral trappings. It is not a matter of the intensity or duration of the pleasure. But it is perhaps captured fairly well by Plato’s metaphor of inner harmony, a metaphor that extends beyond any particular moment of pleasure to take in the person’s total experience. Self-centered, cruel, mean-spirited individuals are never at ease with—in harmony with—themselves or the world, which is why they can never achieve lasting contentment. Generous spirits, by contrast, experience less conflict between what they in fact feel and what at least some part of them thinks they should feel; furthermore, there is less disharmony between what they experience as their inner reality and the way they present themselves to the world.

As we gain an understanding of what's going on internally, we need to apply that same kind of awareness and understanding to others and to the environment around us. I've done ongoing research on the experiences of North Americans who volunteer overseas for one or two weeks. Most of these volunteers travel to developing countries where they help with disaster relief, build medical clinics, teach English, or engage in religious mission work. Of all the comments made by these North American travelers, the most common statement made upon their return is something like, “Even though those people have so little, they're so happy!” There's something endearing about hearing a group of relatively wealthy North Americans talk about their amazement that people with so little could be so happy. My question is, are the people they observed really happy? I've asked several hundred of these volunteers, “What makes you think they're happy?” They most often respond, “Because they were always smiling and laughing. And they were so generous to us. They fed us better than they eat themselves.” Part of becoming more aware of others requires we slow down to ask what familiar behaviors might mean in a different culture. The observation made by these American travelers is usually accurate—the locals they're meeting are in fact smiling and generous. But the question is whether the North Americans are accurately interpreting what those behaviors mean. First, if you don't speak the language and you're just meeting someone for the first time, what do you do? After some feeble attempts at saying things like “Hola!” “Gross Got!” or “Nee how!” there's often some nervous laughter that ensues. It's really awkward. So the locals might be expressing happiness or their smiles might just be a nervous response. Then add that in places like Thailand, where there are twenty-three different smiles, each smile communicates something different. And in one small, extremely polite community in New Zealand, smiling reactions are a way of expressing that they feel deeply offended.4 As I've consistently said, the point isn't to learn every nuanced meaning. But with heightened awareness of others, an individual will realize that while smiles might reflect genuine happiness, they just as well might be a nervous cross-cultural response that indicates little about one's level of contentment.

Happy people do not love well.  Joyful people do...Happy people rarely look for joy.  They're quite content with what they have.  The foundation of their life becomes the blessings they enjoy.  Although they may genuinely care about those less fortunate and do great things to help, their central concern is to keep what they have. They haven't been freed to pursue a greater dream.  That's why they cannot love well.

fiercely loyal to the people they love and trust. They will go through leaps and bounds for the other person to make them feel loved and content. Empaths can spread joy and happiness. This can infect the people that they are surrounded by. Being in a loving relationship will exponentially increase this sense of joy which in turn will spread to their partners. Empaths extremely genuine about what they say and do. Being wired to sense feelings and thoughts make them that way. Because of this, empaths love unconditionally and understand the needs of their partners. Empathic people have empathy! Instead of being angry and reacting, they will try to understand, this makes them far more loving and peaceful in nature. Empaths are natural optimists. It is a survival strategy against all the negativity of the world. Being with an empath means you will always get to see the brighter side of things. Empaths have the innate ability to inspire others and change the world. They can affect positive change the partners that they are in a relationship with. Empaths are so in tune with emotions and feelings. Because of that, they are honest and open about them. This gives an empath’s partner security in knowing where they stand. An empath will not play games with someone’s emotions and will always be kind and thoughtful. Empaths are creative because they are so in tune with the world. This makes them good at solving problems and finding solutions for people and situations. Empaths are able to connect with others on a much deeper level. They are so in tune with energies and feelings to the point where they are unable to distinguish it from their own. Being in a relationship with an empath will mean that you will always be understood. Once an empath falls in love with a person it will be unconditionally. They will accept all the failings as well as the merits of that person.