The Perfect Timing of Greg Laswell

Arguably my favorite artist just posted this on facebook:

Serendipitous indeed.

"All of your wallowing is unbecoming"
"What you set out to kill off has been gone some time now.  You've got to come back down."

Playing with Fire

Happiness is somewhat like fire.

Before you refute that (if you haven't already), allow me to give a definition:

Happiness includes any feeling one personally denotes as positive.  This encompasses derivatives such as joy, excitement, fun, and peace.  In addition, parts of the more vague emotions such as passion may also be included.

Being happy is such a desired state that it is arguable that one's own happiness is the driving force for all human action.  Many would agree that the "dark ones of society" are obviously acting selfishly, but I would venture to say that all people, even the most benevolent ones, act the way they do to achieve their own happiness.  This is not a bad thing.  Working towards one's own interests is a wonderful thing, especially when it encourages others to do the same.  The common issue (and the topic of this post) is the duration.

In our search for happiness we commonly give certain levels of happiness to certain events and plan accordingly.  E.g. When one is deciding what cereal to buy, we rank the tastes of different kinds based on our previous experiences.  In addition we compare prices of different brands, assessing both the happiness that could be bought with the money saved and the personal satisfaction from saving money at all.  Our previous enjoyment with risk comes into play as we contemplate whether to try a new box or stick to what we know.

As one can easily tell, even simple decisions can be complicated by the fact that we cannot have every happy event happen simultaneously.  To maximize happiness, we must deliberate.  (Unless of course, deliberation keeps one from happiness and spontaneous action increases happiness by lengthening time of actual use of a happy event, but I digress.)  

Though complicated, these decisions don't have much happiness value tied to them and are generally made rather quickly.  The hardest decisions come from competing events that both have quite a bit of potential happiness associated with them.  Commonly, I've found that a large piece of this competition is in how long the happiness lasts, which is inversely proportional to how much happiness is experienced in a given time period.

Thus the relation to fire.   One can keep a fire going and enjoy the warmth and light it gives, but you could always be warmer by going closer.  In addition, keeping a fire up takes serious effort.  Fuel must be provided, protections must be made so it doesn't get out of hand, and sometimes one must delicately encourage it.  Conversely, a flash fire can mesmerize and warm down to the bone instantaneously.  It doesn't need to last long, so no upkeep is necessary.  One can indeed get burned, and the fire can get out of hand and start destroying things, but that instant of nerve endings telling you you're alive is beautiful.  The most noted drawback is that once one has tasted fire, one is all too quick to do it again.

Our modern media loves the flash fire.  Happiness lives in constant novelty: the new style is what you must have; continual pictures of cats and clever relatable jokes will keep you happy; once one person no longer entertains you, find another; try this, try that, try everything.  Unfortunately, the real world doesn't work like that.  To quote Marina and the Diamonds, "TV taught me how to feel, now real life has no appeal."  Cleaning up the ashes of flash fire isn't generally enjoyable, and most of the time we are encouraged to simply leave it.  SOMEONE will clean it.  Surely.
On the flip side, certian religions and philosophies preach asceticism.  In the fire metaphor, they would dictate that you should simply endure the cold.  You can receive the most happiness by having no outside heat, and thus being most aware of your internal warmth.  To a lesser degree, almost all other organizational schools of thought encourage that one should deny current enjoyment to plan for the future.  The school system is a long and tedious road of telling you, "This will pay off eventually."  Investment plans say, "You don't have enough money to be happy now.  Save it up and later you can spend it on enjoyable things."  Religious institutions teach "You'll be happy in the next life if you avoid x specific pleasure in this one."

For myself, I believe there needs to be a balance.  (Ah yes, the ever defendable middle ground.)
We need to stop and smell the roses just as much as we need to get to work on time so that we can provide well for ourselves.  Never let one eclipse the other.  A charred soul drowning in the fire it constantly yearns to experience is just as pitiful as the dreary world always waiting for that "moment" when one can be happy.

As a final word of warning, please try not to be consumed.  Being eaten by one's own desires, whether in scorching your skin or diligently maintaining can only lead to being broken, lost, and burnt out.

Longing

I read a post in which someone was giving notes from a talk they enjoyed, and at one point the speaker said something along the lines of "We are all searching to be happy.  All of the little sidetracks we take and the obsessions we cling to are all part of our search to be happy."

In a single world, a large part of our search for happiness comes from other people.
The desire for a relationship is a common topic of conversation.   From those who are interested in seven people to the one who complains about being unable to find anyone, everyone wants to find love.
It reminds me of a time someone was complaining about a Justin Bieber song.  She said that his lyric "I just need somebody to love" was terrible.  One shouldn't think that way, because just 'needing someone to love' means you are self-centered and hardly care about the other person as long as they fit your needs.
While her point is valid, and we need to make sure that we aren't "falling in love with the possibility of someone loving us", I think the mutual void is a significant driving force in bringing people together.
Something of an "I'm lonely.  You're lonely.  Let's be lonely together so we won't be anymore." type of deal.  It doesn't start out focused on the other person as a human whole, but if the relationship develops and the couple fights through the rougher times, it can flourish into a relationship in which each partner truly desires the fullest happiness of the other.

That being said, this driving void wields a large amount of power, and that power can drive people insane.  I wish it were not so, but I have some friends who have found 'the one', and have become so stuck on that one person that they cannot truly love anyone else.  It's obsessive and frightening, especially when a bad end causes someone to be so devastated that they start considering horrendous options.
On a less grand but just as damaging scale, I've met people who are so thirsty for the love they've tasted that they'll define their existence by their relationships.  Unstable when alone, they flit from relationship to relationship, desperately holding on to each partner and quickly finding another one when a schism occurs.  Consequently, complications abound.  They have many a story of an ex to tell, and when back into the searching phase, they have to keep all those names and details straight.  Even when in a relationship, there is a distinct possibility that the partnership could be lacking something a previous one had, yet they don't want to leave the relationship for fear of being alone.
Finally, there are those like me.  The love of a relationship (and consequently loss thereof) is unknown to me.  I subsist off of listening to songs and hearing stories from others, satiating my want for a relationship vicariously.  My imagination takes off at the merest hint of possibility until it knows exactly what we'll look like after being married for 23 years.  It's a dangerous game that can easily push me off the edge if things start spinning too fast, but it keeps me safe from danger in reality.

Neither side of the spectrum is really happy.  They are left wishing for what they once had, and I am left wishing I knew what it was like.  It makes me wonder if people ever really fulfill the longing that eats away at them, or just get so tired that when something could possibly work long-term, they take it up just to get the monster of hope out of their heads.