10 Dec 18

Dear Maria,

A waitress in a resort once asked the Dalai Lama — the spiritual leader of Tibetan Buddhism — what the purpose of life was. He responded, “happiness.”Then she asked him, how do we find happiness? To this, he replied, “that question is not so easy to answer.”

The first time I met my mentor, she asked me this question. “If you could wave a magic wand and completely change your life, what would it look like?” I knew, exactly; I told her. Then she asked me, “so then why are you here?” She knew that story then, of course; I didn’t.

I believe you can find happiness in the most unexpected of places, however. Let me give you a few examples so you get an idea.

While driving to work the other day, I saw a band of clouds — a single long, cloud, really — that stretched from the far edge of the horizon, over me, and well past me into the beyond. It was wide and flat and looked very solid. It reminded me of a bridge with no legs. I didn’t know how I could ever get up there, yet I knew if I found a way, I could go anywhere in the world. The thought of this made me extremely happy.

More recently, I saw a leaf fall from a tree. It fell from the topmost branch. The leaf, cupped and dry, resembled a partially closed hand. It looked like it clutched the air itself as it fell. I think it did. It fell so slowly it even seemed to pause at several steps refusing to fall any further for a moment. It rested there as if on an invisible step. I actually counted in my mind each time it did. Eventually, it landed. Perhaps the air did not want it to fall, either, and held it up. I felt oddly encouraged.

This happened a long time ago: an investment banker friend of mine abandoned me in a coffee shop in SoHo to go shopping; I wanted to read a book. It was Spring, and the snow had just melted. I sat at a table by the window, but because the water on the sidewalk and the street mirrored the sky, I felt like I was on a boat or the shore. The world never seemed more beautiful, and it all belonged to me alone. It remains one of the most beautiful sights and feelings I can remember.

I know you can find moments of happiness like these, too, but you must look outside yourself, forget yourself, and let yourself see the world around you clearly. It also amazes me how often we can feel happiness and sadness together, like sunshine during rain. I don’t think you can have one without a bit of the other. Never think less of your happiness if you also feel a little sad, too. You might even come to think like I do, that the saltiness makes it taste a little sweeter.

It takes time to learn how you will make your mark on the world. Personally, I should have figured it out much sooner — in first grade, in fact. My teacher then made me write a poem, and after I did, I felt so happy I couldn’t possibly describe it — I had discovered the magic you can make with words. Sadly, I did nothing about it until I grew much older. Does my writing make a difference to anyone now? I don’t know. I hope so.

I probably make more of a difference in peoples’ lives with scrambled eggs. No, really. I make amazing scrambled eggs. They make people very happy — they even make noises sometimes, in fact. I won’t tell you how I make them — it’s a French technique! — but I will make them for you if we ever meet and you get hungry. You don’t need to make a grand mark on the world, you only need to make people happy in the ways that you can.

(It’s also OK not to know yet. Not knowing means you still have every possibility available to you.)

I think, as individuals, we can solve any problem we have; however, often, we try to solve the wrong one. Most of us believe the problem is finding someone who can and will love us. However, for all of us, it usually is learning to love oneself so that you can love other people. Loving oneself is the foundation of loving another person, and without this ability — practically speaking — it’s unlikely we’ll find the love we seek.

Think about it. Even if you did find someone who loved you, how will you love them if you can’t even love the person without whom you would not exist, yourself? And how will you keep your beloved if you have nothing to offer them? It’s almost cliché to quote this proverb, but be careful when a naked man offers you his shirt. It points to an important truth, though — often, the problem a person has with another person they have with themselves.

I bought some new eyeglasses recently. They have oleophobic lenses, meaning, they repel oil; by contrast, my old glasses were decidedly oleophilic. Love is amorphilic. Love attracts love, powerfully. Also, I will tell you one of two “secrets” I know about love. If you really want a relationship to work, you need only follow one precept. It is: always. Without always, there is no relationship at all, just two people who know each other.

(It’s not that mystical, really. Always means you will have all the time you need to figure things out and every reason to.)

I adhere to an unpopular opinion. I believe it is easier to love and be happy than people think it is. I speak from experience. I think we’ve all learned how to love before (perhaps in another lifetime) so when we try now, we already know — we just don’t know that we do yet. Picture a man terrified of jumping out of a plane only to realize the plane is on the ground. Love frequently terrifies us because we believe it is something other than it is.

The only true mistake you can make in love is walking away…

What is love then? One answer immediately comes to mind — taking the time to understand someone, and before long, realizing that doing so makes you extremely happy. As a person wiser than me has said, “Love and understanding are not two separate things; they are one thing.” If love is anything, it’s learning, and the more mistakes you make, the more you learn. The only true mistake you can make in love is walking away, especially when you know you shouldn’t. I’ve made this mistake; please, don’t make it yourself.

In case I do not get another opportunity to share with you some of the things I have learned, I will quickly tell you two more important things. Now, listen up!

We too frequently confuse loving someone with needing them. We think, I must love her because I need her so badly. We would never allow ourselves to say to our beloved “I don’t need you; I can get along fine without you” because we think it means or proves we don’t love them at all. (How can we not need someone we say we love?) As a result, we fail to learn self-sufficiency and independence. Yet, we must achieve wholeness in order to love someone else truly.

If we do, we can offer our beloved two of life’s most precious gifts. First, we can give our beloved freedom because they will not always have to fulfill our needs. Second, we can give them the purest form of love, desire, because we invite them into our lives and encourage them to stay only because their presence brings us great joy. Yet all truths contain a paradox. If we truly love someone in this way, of course, we will feel like we need them.

(Also, always remember what your teacher taught you in grade school: leave things better than you found them — and people, too!)

I apologize if this all seems presumptuous — it wouldn’t be the first time! What your friend said about you spoke to me. I think I was you, once. It sounded — and felt — all too familiar. To be honest, I could have written you a letter twice this length — I had that much more to say to you. I hope this is enough, though. I hope this helps you, even in the smallest way. It has helped me. We know things we don’t know until we say them or write them, so thank you.

Maria, with happiness and love, we can accomplish anything. You will surely have both.

Very sincerely,

David