by Maria Vaghi
The extraordinary approach with which Ezra Bayda welcomes us readers is to catch us off guard as we journey down a road we think we know, sprinkling us along the way with splashes of irony.
The first surprise in Beyond Happiness is shamelessly asking why we believe that happiness is our birthright.
We might be tempted—with a smile—to call him impertinent, to tell him that we're certainly not masochists, yet upon closer reflection, how many heavy layers of expectations accumulate over the course of our lives, without us even noticing much, precisely because we believe that happiness is owed to us.
He then proceeds to tickle us with a reflection that often we pursue happiness as if it were a big truffle to uncover, that is, as ifstrong> we are striving to be happy, without realizing that, as the author says, "happiness cannot come from setting it as a goal; it arises from the ability to appreciate the path or, more precisely, the experience that life offers in the present moment."
If we're not convinced, he also mentions a study involving two groups of people asked to listen to a piece of classical music. However, one of the groups must also try to be happy while listening. Given Bayda's prompting, it's obvious to guess that those "brainiacs" in pursuit of happiness will ultimately report lower levels of well-being compared to those who simply blissfully enjoyed the experience.
These are by no means trivial considerations, especially for us Westerners, often victims of what Bayda defines as the happiness boom, made up of ephemeral aspects to chase and demand, moreover with immediate positive effects, precisely because the ability to tolerate what is unpleasant is increasingly limited.
If this were not enough, he decides to also show us the other side of the coin, reminding us of how stimulating - in terms of practice - the boundless field of opposites is: that of our aversions. "When we are unhappy, instead of trying to become happy, we should take whatever is happening as an opportunity to encounter and overcome obstacles on the path."
And to avoid being generic, perhaps fearing our response of, "Okay, I promise I'll give it a try at the first opportunity," he puts three simple yet striking questions on the table:
– Am I truly happy in this moment?
– If not, what is preventing it?
– Can I surrender to what is?
Of course, the author does not just stimulate us with his lively methods; rather, he carefully and lovingly guides us to use tools that cultivate and nurture the causes of happiness—an element that no one holds a patent on, but which offers the opportunity, like any field of practice, to turn our gaze inward and discover the beauty of exploration.
The theme of this Focus On favored mentioning this title, but it's wholeheartedly suggested to read all of Ezra Bayda's books.
