Seeing, Not Seeking, is the Key to Happiness

In July of 2013, my two-year-old son was diagnosed with a terminal brain tumor. Ten days later, I delivered twin daughters. Outside Sam’s hospital room, just moments after receiving his fatal diagnosis, my husband, Mike, and I vowed to do everything in our power to make Sam happy.

At first, we sought happiness in the rare, in the extravagant, in the exclusive. We watched whale sharks glide through impossibly large tanks on a behind-the-scenes tour at the Atlanta aquarium, sparred with Captain Hook at a character breakfast in Disney World, roared at the marble lions that stood watch over the opulent pools at the Ritz Carleton in Puerto Rico, and reverently petted the real bones of a Tyrannosaurus Rex at the Natural History Museum in New York. We chased experience to numb the pain, to distract ourselves from the insidious truths gnawing away at our insides like pirana: Sam had inoperable cancer; he would likely not live a year. Alcohol became a big part of this strategy. A glass or four of red wine melted our reality into something I could swallow, if only momentarily.

After more than a year of seeking happiness by minimizing pain, by numbing difficult emotions, by distracting ourselves, I found myself nearly incapable of joy. Every smile was feigned, every laugh merely air pushed out of lungs at the moment social convention dictated.

I needed a new strategy for finding happiness. To my surprise, I found one when time, money, and exhaustion limited our ability to seek extravagant…