One day a man met a hungry tiger. He ran. The tiger pursued him. When he got to a cliff, he jumped and grabbed a tree root so as not to fall to the ground where another tiger waited in horror to eat him.
He held onto this thin root for his dear life.
Then a little mouse appeared and began to nibble at the root. The mouse was hungry and the fibers began to tear.
At that moment the man saw a ripe red strawberry growing from the cliff near him. He held the vine in one hand and picked the strawberry with the other.
How sweet it tasted! How happy he was!
There is no good time for a heart attack. They really mess up your plans.
My timing could have been worse, however. I think I should be grateful.
It didn't seem not to be like that: alone, midnight, burning pain in my spine, chest, arms. Raw fear.
At least I was at home. For this there is something to be thanked for .
Three months earlier I had directed a show in India. Then a short trip to conduct corporate training in Malaysia. I was home in the UK for less than two weeks before flying to China to do more corporate work.
Back from China, I went north to Scotland to sort my mother and take her to a nursing home. A life full of books, pictures, clothes and memories that have been distilled into … almost nothing. How do you fit into a small space for a lifetime?
During all these trips, at airports, in the middle of the workshop, late at night, I had stabbing, debilitating, breathtaking chest pain that I had always found a way to ignore. You passed.
I was in my fifties and fit. I was fine. There is always an explanation other than the obvious when the obvious is too scary to take.
On the day of my heart attack, I drove eight hours from Scotland to England and fell into bed exhausted.
I was awakened by pain at midnight. At least I woke up. One is also grateful for that.
It was not a good time for a heart attack, but it could have been worse.
There is a lot I can be thankful for.
" Looks like a heart attack," said the paramedic, studying an EKG printout on the back of the ambulance. " Let take you to the hospital for confirmation."
"Yes, a heart attack", the doctor confirmed some time before daybreak. " We will find you a bed and find out what to do with you next."
" Not a good time ", I thought wires were taped to my chest, old men gasped and mumbled in the other beds. " I " am due on Tuesday in Greece. "
My clogged arteries were not particularly important. I had booked my flights. Things happen when they happen.
***
I was in the hospital for ten days. There were daily discussions about how I should be treated. My heart attack wasn't very bad, but it wasn't very good either.
Open heart surgery or stenting?
In the end they couldn't make up their minds, so they left it to me. Open heart surgeries are more invasive, but may be safer in the long run. Stents could be ready in an hour and I could go home. However, they might not be enough.
I chose stents. Paying attention to my body is the basis of what I do. I couldn't stand the thought of being cut open. At least I couldn't take it as long as there was another way.
I had to wait four days between the decision and the operation. Four days in hospital when I should have been in Greece.
The morning after choosing my treatment, I experienced something very strange. No more heart attack, although it happened in the region of my heart. I discovered that I was happy.
Happy about nothing. Not happy about something. Just happy.
Completely unconditionally happy.
I woke up at 5 o'clock in the morning. It was June so it was already light. The hospital was quiet.
Sunlight poured in through the window and I lay there looking at the tree outside. My bed was pre-taped so I was wrapped in privacy.
I started reading my book, enjoyed the early hour and was left alone.
It was easy. It was quiet. Outside in the tree a bird sat and sang, because that's exactly what birds do .
All that existed was a very quiet " now." Book, sunlight, scruffy birdsong in the early morning.
I didn't know how long but at that moment I was alive and that was enough.
***
Two months later I spent a week on an island off the Atlantic coast of Ireland. I went through a disciplined rehabilitation.
Every day I went a little further.
I ate well and slept a lot.
A small Irish Atlantic island is warmer in summer than in winter, but not much else changes. There is wind and rain and wild beauty. I went morning, noon and evening. Every day I kept going and taking more risks. I slowly learned to trust my body again.
On the third day I stood on top of one of the larger hills. A storm was blowing from the sea and the rain was subsiding.
My waterproof jacket had given up and malicious rain poured down my back.
I protected myself behind the pile of stones and mumbled: " That's mean."
Then a warmth of the heart.
" I am happy again," I thought. Again, not happy because, or happy, or happy that, or happy for … just happy.
***
I've felt it a few times in the eighteen months since then.
A moment of simple happiness.
We spend so much time looking for happiness through achievement:
If I can afford this house, I will be happy.
When I am in a relationship with this person, I will be happy.
If I get this job or pass this exam …
We look for happiness from the outside. We see it as a result of things that go beyond us. As if luck was a benefit of a new job, a company car, or access to the gym or secret room in a house that we'd like to occupy some day.
But happiness is not a by-product. Luck is.
We look for happiness from the outside, extrinsically, and ignore that it only lives from within. Happiness is inherent.
The things that come to us from outside, extrinsic rewards, are out of our control. Relying on them to be happy means exposing ourselves to fate and happiness. However, when we find happiness in ourselves, it really is ours. We can learn to take care of it.
The new house, new job, new love and new car will not make you happy, although they can distract you from your dissatisfaction for a while.
Only if you accept happiness at this moment will you be happy.
Like a grumpy old house cat that won't let you petted, spurns the food you give out lovingly, and hisses when you get too close, happiness will unexpectedly curl up on your lap and comfort you with time at time.
Does that mean that we can't make ourselves happier? This happiness is arbitrary and we have to suffer until it visits us ?
Although we cannot force this grumpy old cat to come, we can learn to sit quietly and give it space and encouragement. We can learn to calm our minds and let the happiness of being alive in this moment enter us. We can invite happiness by opening up to it.
Not doing things in order to be happy. Let's be happy
If I stop looking outside of myself and experience what it means to live this moment, happiness could curl up in my chest and comfort me.
Happiness lives on a mountain in a summer storm. It sneaks into a hospital room early in the morning. It is here now when I interrupt my input and wait between one word and the next.
It lives in me, not in things that I want or consider necessary.
Now is a good time to be happy.
Now is the only time that there is.
I am grateful that I am here now.
I am grateful that there is happiness somewhere inside me now and if I stop looking for it out there, it may be on my lap.
How sweet it tasted! How happy he was!
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