The Pursuit of Happiness

I’ve realized that somewhere along the way I stopped thinking of happiness as a goal, and started thinking of it as a byproduct–something that just kind of happens when I’m too busy living well to notice.

Somehow, this makes the American enshrinement of “the pursuit of happiness” puzzling. If happiness is a byproduct of a well-lived life, then you can’t pursue it except by ceasing to pursue it, you can’t gain it except by placing other goods ahead of it.

I suppose there’s something almost a little superstitious to my approach-a refusal to look at happiness straight on, for fear that the contentment and enjoyment of life that I can see out of the corner of my eye will, on being sighted, flee like a wild thing too boldly approached. This sense that happiness is a companion that will only walk with me if I can walk in agreeable silence, eyes forward, towards my destination, content to know him by the warmth he broadcasts and the rhythm of another set of steps.