Driving across state lines, I was struck by the state motto of both Ohio and Pennsylvania. Pennsylvania’s state motto is “Pursue Your Happiness,” and Ohio’s is “Find It Here.” It made me think of the relationship between pursuing and finding. The feeling of pursuing something which we may or may not understand, something like happiness, and the feeling of finding what we are seeking. I lose things often, and am not the best at finding things I’ve lost. It’s even harder for me to find something if I didn’t put it somewhere. Many times my mother would ask me to go into our garage to get something from the cupboard, a can of peas or some jam. And I would go into the garage with cupboards filled with all kinds of cans and food. My family was sort of looking forward to Y2K, because we had such a large stockpile of basic necessities. It was a helpless feeling, looking where I was told to look to find something, and not being able to find it. It was almost a shameful feeling, a feeling that I should be able to find what most people could probably find, but I couldn’t.

The routine was I was sent to find something, I invariably couldn’t find it. And then feeling helpless, returning back and saying I couldn’t find it. Then my mother or whoever was asking would go directly to the cupboard and find what they wanted in seconds. I think it’s one of the reasons why I don’t accumulate a lot of things. It’s not a moral choice, as much as I simply can’t find what I want when there are many things to sift through. I prefer a few things that I can find easily.

It’s amazing how something simple like that can shape a life. Give me a few things I know I can find, and I will be satisfied with a few things. But though things do give a certain amount of happiness, I think most would agree that happiness is probably about more than things. We live in an interesting time, where I’m convinced no one really knows what happiness is, yet everyone is convinced we should have it. It’s a peculiar cultural thing, especially for Americans. We still think, even the most mature of us, that if you’re not happy, there is something faulty in your environment.

 

So we have a culture of people endlessly tinkering with their environment, and most unable to find what they thought they were seeking, and then blaming the environment for the dissatisfaction. It’s very common. I’ve done it. I think many of us have. Or what I witness too is if there is a shift in life, there can be a story that there was happiness in a time that has now passed, but not in this time, not in these circumstances. Those are the two most common stories I find in myself, and the ones I witness most: if only these circumstances could improve a bit, we could be happy, or happiness did exist years ago, but that time has passed.

I’ve never been too concerned with happiness. Maybe I should, I really don’t know. I look back and see that in moments of dire pain and stress, there have been moments of joy. And I see that in moments of ease and prosperity, I’ve felt depressed or morose. I don’t see a clear pattern. But if someone forced me to say what happiness was to me, I would say ministry and spiritual practice. For me, it made a human life possible.

 

I saw that hedonism is fun, but it only takes one so far, at least for me. Chasing pleasure is human, and can be very intoxicating, but it can quickly turn pretty exhausting. For some reason, I’ve been driven to a no matter what path. What I mean by that is a path that is there no matter what my circumstances are, whether I’m rich and in great health, in declining health, whether I’m feeling hopeful or not, whether I’m middling, trudging through my life, or really enjoying the moments as they come. The truth is I can cycle through all of those realities in a given day, even though they are not usually as extreme. But instead of being driven to pursue a life that depends on a special set of circumstances, I’ve been driven to find a path that is true in every circumstance, a path that is true in Pennsylvania, true in Ohio, true wherever we may be and whatever circumstances we find ourselves in. Another slogan I see, especially on people’s cars is “stuck in Ohio.” I see it enough that there must be some cultural understanding around this.

 

A feeling that I would go somewhere else if I could, but I’m stuck. Stuck in Ohio. I have the image of getting stuck in the mud, or stuck in the snow. Have you had that experience? Where you try to get out, but you’re literally just spinning your wheels. I’ve definitely dealt with that frustration. The feeling of” get me out of here, there’s got to be somewhere else.” But since moving to Ohio, I’ve had the eerie sense that whatever it is I’ve been seeking, I think I can find it here. Which is why I noticed that state sign. And I think it has something to do with the specialness of this place, but I think it’s true for every place. Where our life is, is a special place. It sounds very simple, and it is. Where our life is, is a special place. And if we change our circumstances, go somewhere else, that will also be special, because that’s where our life will be. But it’s equally special. For where our life is, is a special place, no matter where our life is.

 

Whether we think we’re in the beginning chapters or the last chapters, whether we have goals 5 years from now, or whether we don’t. Where our life is, is a special place. And part of the specialness of this place is that we get to pursue what we need to pursue, including happiness. But I’m becoming increasingly convinced that the only place that happiness can be lived is where our life actually is. It doesn’t exist for us in another life. It’s in the one we have, the one we wish would be better or different, or the one we may be fine with for this moment.

And I can’t help but wonder what our culture and world would be like if we invested as much energy in appreciating what we already have, as we do in trying to pursue something that we feel has not arrived yet. I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like as a culture if instead of waiting for problems to resolve, we could appreciate each other, in the midst of our problems. I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if we collectively could find happiness where we are, even in trying circumstances.

I don’t think happiness is lying to ourselves, and saying that bad things are good, or that we shouldn’t be so upset or worried. I think it’s just the growing sense that whatever is worth finding, can be found here. I’ve said many times before that Youngstown is one of the greatest places in the world. Why? Because we have what we need to love each other. And what do we need to love each other? Nothing more than recognizing that we’re alive here, along with everyone else. And our problems are opportunities for compassion, and that as a community we can realize that possibility together. We don’t need to wait for a world without problems. We can appreciate our problems for what they are, opportunities for love, opportunities for compassion. And that love is inexhaustible, it’s endless. That is my feeling anyway. And I felt that here, in Ohio.

I trust the pursuit though. Without the pursuit, I don’t think we can find ourselves here. I think each of us has to pursue what we need to pursue, and in the end that pursuit will lead us here. So both slogans have wisdom. Pursue your happiness, and find it here. They go together.

I didn’t plan to be in Ohio, and yet it’s been one of the most wonderful things that has happened to me. And I found joy for me often is like that – it’s not in the things I planned, but in the things that happen. I find satisfaction in the things I’ve planned that come to fruition. And there is a certain kind of quiet joy in that. But there is another kind that happens when all of a sudden deer come to eat in your backyard, or you get a nice phone call from a friend, or the clouds part and the sun shines just as you’re going outside. There’s a kind of grace to it. A feeling that I didn’t do anything to earn or deserve this, it just is. And it’s wonderful. That the only tricky part of pursuit or pursuing happiness for me – the assumption that we can earn or deserve happiness. And if other folks are not happy, well I guess they didn’t earn it. Of course most people don’t really think like this. But it’s a kind of built in assumption – that life is something I can make happen, I can build a life worth living, and if I’m dissatisfied, I didn’t build it right. Instead of taking a step back, and wondering if our assumptions might be a bit simplistic.

What if our orientation was not to try to minimize the amount of problems in our life? What if our orientation was not just to have as much pleasure as possible, and the least amount of pain? What if instead our orientation was to see how our circumstances could be opportunities for compassion – self compassion and compassion for others? That reorientation doesn’t give us less problems, but in a sense it does. It gives us one less problem – the belief that it’s a problem to have problems. And that is the role, in my estimation, of a community like this. It’s a space for a different orientation to our usual way of living. It’s a place where we can start to become curious and wonder. We start to become curious: perhaps love is here. Perhaps opportunities for care are here. Perhaps my circumstances are not in my way. Perhaps what I’m looking for is here.

And the nice thing is that you don’t need to believe any of that. No one will force you. I certainly won’t. Curiosity is enough for me, curiosity and doubt. I’ll take curiosity and doubt over certainty any day.

I think the trouble is when we’re certain that what we’re really seeking is not here in the life we’re actually living. That kind of certainty can be very hard to deal with. But curiosity, doubt, those put a nice wedge into our certainty. And that small wedge is enough I think to transform us. Just a little bit of doubt that perhaps our life is not a mistake, what if this is not just a hardship. What if it’s an opportunity, a possibility we have yet to realize? There is no need to believe that. Just doubting our certainty is enough.

It’s a good time to doubt, I think. We have a nice container here for that. We have coffee and snacks, two of my favorite doubt companions. We have a wonderful community on Zoom. I recommend that you talk to each other, get to know each other. It’s so easy to feel we are in our own world, zooming in like we’re watching television, and zooming out to our world again. Nothing wrong with that, but there’s a nice opportunity in getting to know people. I think pursuing and finding are two sides of the same coin, and it’s good to see both sides. It’s good to not be complacent and do what we can for ourselves and for each other.

And when we fall short of our expectations, which is inevitable, it’s good to be reminded that it’s already here, that we’re supported. We’re not trying to be superheroes. We’re just trying to be human, that’s how I see it. And it’s a funny thing. We’re human without even trying, and yet to fully live as a human being seems to take some effort. It’s a strange, wonderful thing. It takes effort to fully live who we already are. But it’s a good kind of effort. It’s an effort to not get somewhere else or be somebody else. It’s an effort to appreciate who we already are, to appreciate what we have, and to share who we are with the world. It’s to open up the windows, and let the sun shine on our face. It’s to enjoy the wonder of eating, to not take for granted that we have company, both virtually and in person. It’s to wonder at even our own unhappiness at times – to wonder at our own minds and assumptions. And to feel that we are supported in what we’re going through, no matter what. That support is sometimes obvious in a community like this, and sometimes it’s less obvious, but it’s here.

It’s here in the moment we’re in. It’s here in the circumstances we’re in. It’s here in this room, and it’s here when we leave it. I wish you all the best in all of your pursuits, and for those who are tired and growing less hopeful in the pursuit, I hope you remain curious that perhaps you’ll find it here. And the nice thing about that is that you don’t have to be the only one who has to find it yourself. We can help each other perhaps find what we could never find ourselves.