When I wrote MISSION TO BE HAPPY I wanted this little handbook and collection of songs to remind me that happiness was not something that was “out there” to be hoped for, or dreamed of, or imagined “someday”, but was possible “right here, right now, in this very moment” Today I found a very sweet “in the moment” happiness looking at the future.
Every year the first week of March I am privileged to be one of the judges at the Sterling Scholar Competition. The top high school students in Speech and Drama from three districts around the state share their portfolios of accomplishments (academic, community service, leadership and on stage or in speech and debate tournaments) AND THEN they present themselves before a panel of three judges to be interviewed for 10 minutes.
In the interview the students have a couple of minutes to share a scene from a play or a monologue, or do a humorous interpretation or a persuasive speech. Then the judges ask them questions. It’s like the toughest job interview ever: an audition followed by being grilled by people who in fact are judging you. You know, I’ve never met a person EVER who told me they just LOVE being judged. But there these young students were, being judged on their contributions to humanity, their academic prowess, their command of the communicative arts and their ability to be confident and graceful under pressure. And they smiled the whole time.
I was looking at the future, and I felt so hopeful. Amazed at the work ethic, focus and talent of these young people. And they were diverse, ethnically, politically, socially and personally. All of them had different ways of covering whatever insecurities teenagers are all accused of possessing . A part of me wanted to high five or hug everyone of them who dared to achieve something that required YEARS of work, commitment and sacrifice.
As I looked into the “future” today I saw some of the things people my age have a tendency to see when they look in that direction. I saw realized dreams and crushing disappointment. I saw surprises when students discover what happens on the road to something else. I wanted so much to give them all the encouragement and support and applause I could in those brief moments today. But perhaps what made me happiest was realizing that by their hard work and the success they’d earned so far they have given themselves the greatest gift possible. They gave their all doing something they love and found joy in the journey.
A part of me wished I could have given them something besides my time “judging” their performances today: maybe giving each a copy of MISSION TO BE HAPPY at the end of the interview. My guess is most of them would have smiled politely and said, “Thanks, but I’m already on one!”
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It is interesting to me (because it’s about me), that every time I had a book turned down, I just slogged on. This was not happiness. It was – something else. Something I don’t really understand. Doggedness. Not determination, because I know how that feels and can do that from time to time. Not exactly stubbornness. Just doggedness. Even now, after years of sudden failure – something I wasn’t all that used to in the old days – I can’t let go. But does being published have much to do with being happy? I think being involved in the process is a happy thing, feeling that you’re moving along, accomplishing something. And the part about people reading the things that have come out of your head and finding them useful, or connecting to themselves in new ways because of something you put down on paper – that is deeply gratifying. I think that’s actually the hot point, here – finding that something you are has been useful to someone else.
The money (what little there is in this business for everyone but the few run-away hit hitters) isn’t it. Though having the freedom the money allows can be invigorating in some ways. And being recognized? Meh. But being useful. Connecting. That is the happy part.
When you cross paths with a young person, and still know them thirty five years later – that’s cool, too.