Читать книгу Living Long, Living Passionately - Karen Casey - Страница 21

I believe that the very purpose of life is to be happy. From the very core of our being, we desire contentment. In my own limited experience I have found that the more we care for the happiness of others, the greater is our own sense of wellbeing.

—Dalai Lama

I surely couldn't have expressed any more clearly the sentiment shared by the Dalai Lama in the above quote. We too often think our purpose in life needs to be far grander than to just usher in a few happy moments in another person's life. If we can create, for just one person, an hour or a moment of genuine peace and wellbeing, we will have lived a worthy life. His words remind me of Mother Teresa's when she said so simply, “Be kind to everyone and start with the person standing next to you.”

Don't misunderstand. We need the superstars too—the Bill Gateses and the Warren Buffets. We need the Hillary Clintons and the Bill O'Reillys. The Jon Stewarts and the Oprah Winfreys. People who reach from afar into our lives and make us think; they make us take a stand; they make us better people. But not everyone needs such a public persona. If you and I simply make a tiny positive difference in the life of one person a day, the kind of difference that makes a person know she or he has been seen and heard, we will have done our job. We will have moved the gauge marking universal peace one notch closer to being accomplished. And that's a mighty accomplishment, indeed. That's helping humankind move closer to the critical mass that's necessary for all harsh attitudes, all unnecessary wars and even minor strife to be over, once and for all.

Assuredly we can all remember being asked when we were youngsters, “What are you going to be when you grow up?” And had we answered, “Make someone happy,” the questioner would likely have scoffed. That answer would not have demonstrated a lofty enough dream. It would not have shown a commitment to personal success. But it might have served the universe in a far better way. Far better. Reaching into the life of someone close by and paying heed to their existence is a gift like no other.

Perhaps you are thinking this is simply not doing enough for humankind. Perhaps you are wondering how an activity so simple, so common, can put food on the table and a roof over one's head. My point is not that work that draws a paycheck isn't valuable. Of course it is, but judging one's success by the size of one's paycheck or one's portfolio is missing the point of personal worth. The Mother Teresas of the world measure worth by the smallest of deeds we do for one another. And one of the smallest is the gentle smile. Just a gentle, sincere smile.

Perhaps you are reading this and thinking there has to be more. Perhaps you can't shake the dogma you were fed in your youth regarding success: how it looked, what it meant, why only certain standards counted as real measures of success. And you are reading this and wondering, Who is this Karen Casey to tell me that none of that mattered? Don't misunderstand. Please. Any work we did, or continue to do, counted. But the smallest token of appreciation for another's presence on one's journey is what really matters, and that act requires little more than willingness. It doesn't depend on a big job. It doesn't depend on a job at all, in fact.

I can't know where you are on your own journey presently, but I can assume that since you have picked up this book you must have reached a turning point in your life. Or one of your loved ones is anticipating that a turning point is headed your way. Retirement maybe. Or just a slowing down. Perhaps you are wondering what's next.

Or maybe you are searching for confirmation of your current resting place, or you are actively seeking suggestions for a new direction, perhaps a detour that sounds intriguing. Before we can securely make that decision to choose our next experience, I think it's helpful to take an inventory of where we are now; what we have learned that supports our life's purpose; where we think we could have done more; what disappointments we have grown accustomed to and forgiven ourselves for. Life isn't always pretty. Nor is it expected to be.

When I look back on my life, what experiences or accomplishments please me the most?

If I had to defend my choices above, what would my defense be?

What is it about those experiences that didn't “make the grade” that bothers me the most?

What was I doing when I was the happiest? Can I repeat that experience? If not exactly, in some form (e.g., raising children but now volunteering at a school)?

What did I struggle with earlier in life that wouldn't hinder me any longer? What has changed to make that so?

On my deathbed, I want to recount for my loved ones the many times I truly felt their love and what I hope they remember me for.