Joy and Happiness. Two words we often use as though they were twins.
They certainly resemble each other. Both brighten the face, lighten the heart and make better company of us. From across the room, it can be difficult to tell them apart.
Spend enough time with them, however, and their differences begin to show.
Happiness is easy to recognize. Happiness enters the room carrying good news. It opens the curtains, turns up the music and finds a reason to order dessert. Happiness arrives when the test results are favorable, the children come home, the work is finished or an unexpected check appears in the mailbox.
Happiness has friends too. Laughter, Celebration, Relief, Surprise and Gratitude usually follow it through the door. Before long, everyone is talking louder, staying longer and wondering why we do not get together more often.
We sometimes speak dismissively of Happiness because it depends so much upon circumstances. We call it temporary as though temporary things cannot be valuable.
But sunsets are temporary. So are songs, birthdays, ripe fruit and conversations that last late into the evening. Their brevity does not make them shallow. It makes our attention important.
Happiness notices when life is being kind.
Joy is more difficult to identify.
Joy does not always enter carrying good news. Sometimes it arrives quietly, takes a seat beside Grief and does not ask Grief to leave. Joy can inhabit a hospital room, attend a funeral and remain present through a season no one would willingly choose.
Its closest companions are Hope, Peace, Trust and Endurance. They are not as noisy as Happiness and its friends, but they know how to remain when the room grows quiet.
Happiness says, “This moment is good.”
Joy says, “Even when this moment is not good, goodness has not disappeared.”
The trouble begins when we make the two compete. We praise Joy for remaining with us through difficulty while dismissing Happiness as shallow—as though receiving a beautiful moment with gratitude were less spiritual than finding strength during a painful one.
Happiness does not need to survive every change in circumstance to be valuable. Its strength is attention. It awakens us to the gifts directly in front of us and reminds us to receive them with gratitude rather than suspicion.
Joy does not turn pain into pleasure. Its strength is depth. It allows sorrow to remain sorrow without permitting sorrow to become the entire truth.
They need one another.
Joy keeps Happiness from believing the party must last forever. Happiness keeps Joy from becoming so serious that it forgets how to dance.
Joy gives us the strength to endure what life brings.
Happiness gives us permission to enjoy what life gives.
Ecclesiastes says there is “a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance.” Perhaps wisdom is not found in choosing one side of that sentence. Perhaps it is learning to recognize which companion the moment requires—and welcoming each without asking it to become the other.
There will be days when Happiness rushes through the door with an armful of reasons to celebrate. We should make room, turn up the music and receive those moments without apology.
There will also be days when Happiness cannot find the house.
Joy knows the address.
Until next time,
George
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