Happiness Is Not Selfish.

Happiness is made to be shared.

The martyr ethic is built upon a number of erroneous and fearful beliefs about happiness, the major one being that happiness is selfish. Another great fear of happiness to the practicing martyr is that my happiness denies others their happiness. In other words, it appears to the martyr that there isn’t enough happiness to go around. Other fears of happiness for the martyr include: Happiness leads to conceit, my happiness has no value to others, and being happy is inconsiderate in a world where there is suffering.

The fear that happiness is selfish is not only untrue, it actually couldn’t be further from the truth. Psychology researchers find time and time again that it is the depressed people, and not the happy ones, who are intensely self-focused and self-absorbed. Happy people, by contrast, tend to be outgoing, sociable, generous, loving, and kind. They’re also more tolerant, forgiving, and less judgmental than people who are depressed….

In truth, your happiness is more than okay. Your happiness is also a great gift. It is a total inspiration, a wonderful example, and a great service to the world. Your happiness contributes so much more to the world than your suffering.

— Robert Holden, PhD, p. 114, 118

Teaching Ourselves

You cannot teach others that they’re guilty if you’re to be free of guilt yourself.

It’s important to understand that, on the level of consciousness, thoughts are never given away; they’re always shared. Therefore, if you teach others that they should be guilty, you’re simultaneously teaching yourself that you should be guilty, too. Also, when you judge someone as unworthy of happiness, you are in that very same instant telling yourself that you are also unworthy.

The reverse of this principle is that every time you affirm others’ goodness, their inner light, their original blessing, their innocence, you’re affirming these qualities for yourself.

— Robert Holden, PhD, Happiness Now! p. 98

Moving on to the Goodness of Love

Not forgiving ourselves, not forgiving others, not forgiving, even when the whole world thinks we should, is a part of who we are. It is as natural to us as our defenses, our repression, our dissociation, our denial. No one is able to look at himself whole. No one is so evolved as to deal creatively with every loss and insult. No one is free from illusions about himself, positive and negative. No one is immune to the joys of victimhood and revenge. We all have this in us. We are all enmeshed to some degree in our inner dramas and the unimaginable passions and loyalties they represent, which hold sway over us in ways that not even we can know. If we can see some of this in ourselves, accept it, be concerned about it, talk about it, it is less likely to control or overwhelm us. We will have a better chance to stay connected, to expand our zone of connection, to dissolve whatever scar tissue we can from a life of hurt and conflict, and move on to the goodness of love.

— Robert Karen, PhD, The Forgiving Self, p. 279

Influence

Think about the people who have most influenced you.  When I remember them I am always surprised to discover that these are people who did not try to influence me, who did not need my response.  Instead they radiated a certain inner freedom.  They made me aware that they were in touch with more than themselves.  They pointed to a reality greater than themselves from which and in whom their freedom grew.  This centeredness, this inner freedom, this spiritual independence had a mysterious contagiousness.

— Henri Nouwen, Turn My Mourning into Dancing, p. 75

Sharing from Fullness

When we are full, sharing comes naturally.  Generous souls know they cannot be diminished by Giving — the more they share, the fuller they feel.  What they have, they want others to have.  Generosity recognizes our interconnectedness, our mutuality, our oneness.

— Victoria Castle, The Trance of Scarcity, p. 98

Why Write?

We also write to know that we are not “the only ones” thinking and feeling what we do.  We discover and interpret the world, and perhaps live life more richly and rarely — because of the writing.

I write and share stories to experience life more than once.  In the writing and telling of my stories, others read, listen and respond to me and my words.

Most of all, I write because of the joy it creates.  Writing creates connections and magic and certain kinds of permanent bliss.  I can write myself in and out of moods and experiences, and create new places to live in my mind.  It’s kind of like pole vaulting with a pen.

— Sark, Juicy Pens and Thirsty Paper, p. 27