Joyously Futile

When I was in my deepest depression, when my trembling hand tried to steady my .357 magnum to my forehead I could not shake a very clear conclusion I had come to through years of study and attempts of my right to “pursue happiness.” And that was that all attempts to pursue happiness were, in fact, futile.

And the direct and clear understanding of that simple truth made me very sad.

Sad enough in fact that I no longer wanted to play this useless game called “being human.”

Hence the gun.

The ONLY baffling contradiction to these observations was the ease and joy with which my spiritual teacher glided through his human experience. This was the ONLY fly in the ointment I could find.

How in the hell was he able to do so when he also shared the view that pursuing happiness in any way was futile?

He understood that the fly in the ointment was the pursuit.

In order to pursue something, you must operate under the assumption that it was missing and in need of finding.

What if it wasn’t missing?

What if the pursuit was the cause of “missing the mark” with the sin of grasping and pushing and planning and plotting and scheming?

Maybe the insight that the pursuit was futile wasn’t the sad conclusion I thought it was?

What if it was the beginning of the understanding of the truth of how things actually work in human experience?

So, all that was missing now was the “happiness.” What if futility and happiness were not mutually exclusive?

Is it possible to maintain the truth of the futility of human grasping and planning and be content?

My teacher was a shining example that this was possible. So what was he doing?

It turns out all he was doing was being joyous in the futility. So I joined him.

I highly recommend it.