Are You Happy?
The ins and outs of happiness
This past week I hiked again among the golden aspens. As sometimes happens when I hike/trek/climb, spontaneous happy feelings rise in me. “I am happy right now”, I told my hiking buddy. She smiled. The feeling is strong, and sometimes I sing when it happens. Was it the golden light through the yellow aspen leaves? Maybe, but I’ve had this happiness rise on barren mountainsides, after a long steady ascent at high altitude. Is it the effort of the climb, the steady focus on the breath, or paying attention to each step? I’ve also experienced this happiness when I sit for long hours in meditation. So what causes it? Focus, being in the moment for periods of time, is the common denominator. Nature helps me be in the moment; it can be the golden leaves, or a stunning sunset/sunrise, a far view of snow-capped mountains, a river with light dancing on it. Focused on writing this post puts me in the moment as I watch my thoughts unfold and the story takes shape. Relationships? Do they create happiness? Only if we allow connection and intimacy to rule. I recall with fondness an instance when, following a ten-day meditation retreat, my partner and I focused on each sensation while we embraced, permitting the experience to develop. We could watch passion and desire rise and dissolve without losing awareness. It was amazing.
Photo by Europeana on Unsplash
Face paint obscured his expression. His eyes sit deep in his painted black face, small white darts and dots creating a pattern of surprise. His hair is tied in two buns wrapped with straw. A straw head weaving its way up the pole. He painted his body the same — with big black and white stripes. He wears only a loincloth tied around his private parts, a knife stuck between the band around his waist that holds up the cloth; one side of the cloth is flapping with each pull, each movement of his hands and feet. He is one of the twelve Chifonetes, clowns and pole climbers at the Fiesta de San Geronimo, the harvest festival in the Taos Pueblo. The 35-foot pole is erected in the center of the Pueblo plaza. Ropes tied to the pole at the top hold a sheep, bundles of food, gifts and a watermelon. In the Taos Pueblo culture, celebrating the harvest and food for the coming winter means someone must climb the pole to retrieve the harvest for the people. The pole sits in the center of the community and is a symbol of unity. Following hours among visitors, chattering in made up speech, mimicking language without words, Chifonetes begin the serious climb. Twelve individuals attempt climbing, one or two ascend halfway, before sliding downward along the rope hanging atop the pole. Finally, they get a ladder that allows one to climb halfway up from which point he shimmies, holding the rope and steadying himself with his legs around the pole. All the spectators watch with awe and trepidation. Will he make it? When he makes it, he balances on two 4-inch-wide wooden crossbars that stick out in the four directions from the pole, giving him a means of holding the pole and working to untie and lower the harvest treasures. Watching this feat of daring, agility and skill, I too am holding my breath. I can feel the focus that is needed high up there and add my concentrated attention, as he can topple to his death with one wrong move. his facial expression is not visible so far up. Perhaps that is the point: he represents everyman, a painted figure, a clown, a nobody. The name chiffonetes is related to the French chiffonade = ribbon. The Native-American people wear ribbons sewn on their clothing on this day. Dress and intent unite the Pueblo population. They must reach the top through the act of one of theirs. The chiffonete who sits atop the pole after lowering the prize, expresses his delight by standing with his hands in the air, balancing on the crossbars. Is he a happy man? After he lowers himself on the rope, the other chiffonetes carry him around on their shoulders; he seems ecstatic. He just overcame danger and death for his people. I am sure that this man, when he washes off the paint and walks around in his ordinary clothes, will experience the ecstasy humming inside him for days.
Most people tie happiness to achieving something, getting something, experiencing something. Happiness, then, is transactional, an exchange with something outside oneself. That type of happiness doesn’t have the spirit-uplifting quality I experienced this past week on my hike. The uplifting quality lasted for days; it hummed inside me. Of course I want more of it, but I don’t grasp because it happens, coming out of nowhere. Psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, calls it being in the “flow” — a mental state of “flow,” characterized by deep enjoyment, creativity, and total immersion in an activity. Flow occurs when there is a balance between the challenge of a task and the skills of the individual, leading to a sense of deep engagement. When you engage in creating or doing something new, you step outside your regular thinking and let ideas come. You experience an openness, a willingness to discover what you don’t know. This is the basis of meditation, and it happens when you immerse yourself in nature, and the terrain challenges you, forcing you to engage deeply in what you are doing. I am sure the Pueblo man climbing the pole was in a state of flow, grace or something similar, when he reached the top and untied each prize dangling up there.
Happiness, then, is not guaranteed, regardless of attempts to create the correct conditions. It is a gift that comes and goes. I can say that I am happy with my current living situation, but that kind of happiness I don’t experience as a heart opening, joyous continuum. The English language doesn’t have enough words for happiness. People mostly use the word “happy” in a transactional manner. Profound engagement brings happiness that alters perception, feels like a gift, and is impossible to measure.
Dear readers, I hope you get to experience this form of happiness. If you experience it, you can start figuring out the conditions you need to make it happen. I do know some conditions I need for this state to happen. The happiness happening is beyond my control.
Dami Roelse is the author of several books on walking/hiking and transformational travel: “Walking Gone Wild, how to lose your age on the trail” and “Fly Free, a memoir of love, loss and walking the path”. Her next book, “Body and Grace, a hike to wholeness on the PCT, is forthcoming March 2026 from Mantra Books.