Happiness: the paradox and the cliché. | Sachin Jha | TEDxRTU

The paths leading to happiness are well known, yet so few choose to tread upon them. The talk explores the reasons behind this paradox. Also, it reveals how seemingly cliched words of wisdom can hide multiple meanings beneath their layers.
Sachin Jha is a technocrat (B.Tech, IIT Delhi) who runs a chemical manufacturing business in Rajasthan. An avid reader with a synthetic bent of mind, he has authored a book on happiness titled "The Ordinary, the Enchanted and the Quaintly Happy." Another book authored by him is a biography of Mr V.K.Bansal. It's titled "It All Adds Up." His writing style is one that flirts with humor even as it endeavors to deliver some pertinent message.
Jha is an alumnus of the Scindia school, Gwalior, and he is currently pursuing a degree in law.
In his spare time, he likes to paint in oil and acrylic and has had a few well-received exhibitions at The India Habitat Centre, New Delhi.

This talk was given at a TEDx event using the TED conference format but independently organized by a local community. Learn more at https://www.ted.com/tedx

I'm now here to speak about happiness

and the factors
that are said to lead to it.

I know, presumptuous.

Now, what's very interesting
about these factors

is that all of us, kind of, know about it.

After all, they've been around for ages.

And in this permanence,
in this immutability of the factors,

lies the paradox of happiness.

All of us want happiness,

all of us kind of know
where happiness exists,

and yet so few of us are genuinely happy.

Yes, so few,

because those gleeful photographs

on Instagram and Facebook,
notwithstanding. (Laughter)

So, with this in mind,

I intend my talk today to be
about three main themes.

One, we are reiterating
the well-known paths of happiness;

two, pinpointing the inbuilt
impediments in these paths;

and three, suggesting certain ways
to counter these impediments.

So, what are the well-known
paths of happiness?

Broadly speaking, there are three of them.

But before I get into the details of each,

a word on their universal
character and validity,

that how the same three paths

seem to be suggested by philosophy,
religion, and empirical evidence.

Let's take philosophy first.

Let's first take the first rate
in Western and Eastern philosophy.

Let's take Spinoza
and let's take the Bhagavad Gita.

Now interestingly,

the three paths suggested by Spinoza --

the path of feminine virtues,
masculine virtues,

virtues of the informed mind --

happen to be practically identical
with the paths suggested by the Gita:

the paths of Gyana yoga,
Karma yoga, and Bhakti yoga.

After philosophy,
when we come to religion,

it's again very remarkable to note

that most religions
tend to have a trinity.

And that the three aspects of the trinity,

they happen to be
in perfect correspondence

to the three paths of happiness
suggested by the best in philosophy.

How they correspond --
I'll gradually come to that.

By trinity, of course, what I mean
is Brahma, Vishnu, Mahesh of Hinduism;

the son, the Father,
and the Holy Spirit of Christianity;

Mohammed, Allah, and Al-Haqq of Islam;

Dharmakaya, Sambhogakaya
and Nirmanakaya of Buddhism.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly
of Clint Eastwood. (Laughter)

OK, that was to see
whether you're still with me.

Finally we come to empirical evidence.

Now, according to this,

humanity can be broadly classified
into three personality types.

Yes, the three personality types

correspond to the three paths
of happiness.

Now the three types are endomorphic,
mesomorphic and ectomorphic.

Endomorphic: these guys
are soft and chubby.

They're fond of luxury,
food, social company.

The mesomorphic: they are
large-boned and muscular.

They're active, combative,
lustful for power.

And ectomorphic,
they're small-boned and slender.

They're cerebral, sensitive, introverted.

And all of us
are a combination of all three.

Most of us are a combination
of all three in varying degrees,

which also explains
why one man's happiness

is so different than that of another.

So now coming to the first path
of happiness: Bhakti yoga,

the path of the Incarnation,
the path of the soft and chubby endomorph.

So, the path of you can say,
love and devotion.

Love, primarily, because what incarnation
is primarily asking us to do

is to lead a life of love,
a life devoid of sin.

The connection between love and sin?

Sins are absence of love.

They're forms of hatred,
greed, pride, anger, envy;

hatred all.

Hatred is not compatible with happiness.

So with sins gone, hatred gone.

Hatred gone, love comes in.

And once love comes in --
well, you're happy.

Think about it. I mean,
as cheesy as this might sound,

your happiest days are ones
when everyone seems nice,

when you're running low on hatred.

The demanding wife seems justified,

the cab driver seems amiable,

the obnoxious boss seems to have a point,

and the receptionist seems
positively, positively endearing.

Which brings me to first love.

Now when...

you might have been in love, I believe,

if you remember first love,

you remember the wonderful feeling
of bliss that went with first love.

The feeling of perpetually
being on cloud nine.

Or could it be that Providence

has deliberately embedded
this program of first love in all of us

to acquaint us with the power of love?

If love for one can lead
to this kind of happiness,

imagine what kind of happiness
could be yielded by a love for all.

The question is that what prevents us
from walking this path of love?

What prevents us from loving all?

A tempting and politically
incorrect answer.

We don't love all people
because most people are bums.

They don't deserve to be loved.

Now how do we get past this impediment?

With the simple realization
that be the best or worst of us,

we actually don't have
much control over the way we are.

We don't have much contribution
to the way we are.

The family to which we were born,
the school we went to,

who sat next to us in class,

which book we read
at what point in time, and all such.

Neither our DNA
nor our circumstances are our doing.

So, let's cut the bums some slack.

We won't be able
to cut all that slack in one go,

so let's do it in phases.

Let's remember that on that long road
from hatred to love,

you have certain pit stops of resentment,
apathy, tolerance, cordiality, affection.

So don't rush it, alright.

Promote your subjects
one pit stop at a time,

and then experience it for yourself.

Experience how with each promotion

a packet of happiness
just bursts into your being.

For added flavor, for added pleasure,

you might want to add
some action to that promotion,

because in the end, real love
is not an emotion, it's an act.

It's an act of the will that ultimately
transforms into a spiritual experience,

and because it is an act,
we can hope to get better with practice.

Which brings me
to the second path: Karma Yoga.

Selfless action.

One acts but he abandons
the rights with the results of that act.

The path of the active
and combative mesomorph,

in the Trinity of the Father,
the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

This is the father; father indeed,

because when you consider
a kindergarten-going kid,

that kid knows that it is him
who has to finish his homework,

it is him who has
to tackle the school bully,

who has to deal with the teacher.

But yes, if something
drastically wrong happens,

his father will be there for him.

Alright.

So Karma yoga then,
if I may borrow a cliché,

is about "do your best, forget the rest."

Sounds simple and soothing

but all of us know
that it's easier said than done.

Why?

Because no matter how much we do

there's always that nagging feeling
that we haven't done enough.

You know, we've over the years
come to abandon

that wonderful, wonderful
commodity called resignation.

Too bad,

because neuroscience tells us

that while grappling with a problem,
when the mind resigns to an outcome,

then the amygdala in the brain
stops sending forth signals

of stress and anxiety.

And here lies the inbuilt
impediment of Karma Yoga.

All of us know that we need
to resign at some point.

We're never able to figure out
where exactly that point lies.

I mean, how much effort is commensurate
for me to say that I did my best?

Well, one way to look at that question
could be to change perspective.

OK?

And when we see
that "change perspective,"

I mean instead of figuring out ways

to see how much more
could be done to achieve a goal,

what could be done to achieve a goal,

we try to figure out
how relevant the goal is.

We disentangle ourselves
from the goal, we step back from it.

We take a wider view of it
and then it starts to come to us.

That how much effort is commensurate.

However, that still
leaves us with a big problem.

Because when you've been in this business
for sizing up your goals for long,

eventually what could happen

is that most goals
could begin to seem trivial.

And a trivial goal
does not instigate action.

We're up against a paradox again.

Give too much relevance to your goals
and you see nervous tension;

give too little relevance
and you see inactive depression.

The solution?

Well, not a clear cut one,

but I get hints of it
in my morning tennis every day.

This a place where I'm running,
I'm sweating, I'm strategizing.

I've even been accused
of deliberately making false line calls.

In short, I'm really keen to win.

However, if I lose, that loss doesn't stay
with me for more than 15 minutes.

So I guess the real trick of Karma Yoga

lies in being able to replicate
that tennis match sagacity

into everyday endeavor.

And that brings me finally
to the final path that is Gyana Yoga,

the path of the sensitive
and introverted ectomorph.

The path of the Holy Spirit,

that all transcending
and yet all pervading divine reality --

Nirgun, Nirvishesh, Nirakar, Akarta.

Without quality, without attribute,
without form, non-agent.

In the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad,

when the boy's father is finished
telling about the divine reality to him

he in the end adds,

"And that, Svetaketu, art thou."

"Tat twam asi."

Not just Svetaketu,
but all of us are this divine reality.

It is this divine reality
that is the core of our existence.

Vedanta says so.

Eckhart and Thomas Aquinas say so.

The Muslim Sufi Al-Ghazali says so.

Buddhism says so. Tao and Zen say so.

Also, quantum physics says so.

What is quantum entanglement
or the collapsing of wave functions?

It is the divine reality

where the observer, the observed,
and the observation blend into one.

What is the phenomenon
where they successfully separate

a subatomic particle
from its magnetic moment?

Is it not a reality of which
quality is not an attribute?

To realize our oneness
with this divine reality

is the ultimate goal of every human life.

But why aren't we able to do so?

Because as Al Pacino says
in "Scent of a Woman,"

"It's too damn hard."

(Laughter)

Hoo-ah!

Actually, it's hard because
it's all uncharted territory.

And what further cripples us
in this uncharted territory

is the fact that we are
totally ignorant of our limitations.

We will not believe that there is a limit
to our levels of understanding,

that we share 98 percent
of our DNA with chimpanzees,

and that the two percent jump in DNA

should not result
in an infinite jump in brain capacity.

So just as a chimpanzee
will never understand quantum theory,

there are certain things
which even when explained to us

we will not understand.

Similarly, we will not believe

that there could be stimuli
and sense perceptors

other than the ones we know.

We will not believe
that language and reason

are prime tools of understanding,

have some inherent
and inbuilt limitations.

Wittgenstein in his "Tractatus"

and Immanuel Kant
in his "Critique of Pure Reason"

made some really valid expositions
about these limitations.

Which is not to say
that knowledge and reason

have no role whatsoever in Gyan yoga.

They do. It's just that by themselves,
they are insufficient,

they're not enough.

It's like if you're a painter,

then a good book

containing some great critiques
on painting could be of great help to you.

But the book itself
will not get you there.

At some point, you need
to get your hands dirty,

you need to pick up paint and brush.

So, how do you pick up paint and brush?

And how do you get
your hands dirty in Gyan yoga?

Simple. Mindfulness and meditation.

I won't go into the technique details,

but I'll say what happens with your brain
and mind when you start to meditate.

Your brain starts to alter itself
on a permanent basis.

It's called neuroplasticity.

Feel-good chemicals are secreted,
neural networks get rewired

in a fashion that helps
to keep you stress-free.

Cortical thickness increases,

which assists in problem-solving,
planning and emotional regulation.

Cell density decreases,

but in areas
that are responsible for stress.

In short, feel good after meditation
isn't just psychological.

Alright.

And which brings me to the point that...

But anyway, just leave aside
the neuroscience.

Let's come to the fact of what
is happening in terms of real experience.

Well, in real experience,
when you're being mindful

you're learning to respond
rather than react.

When you're meditating

you're learning to increase control
over your attention.

You're thus making yourself
less and less vulnerable

to any stray stimuli
that might aggravate you.

With the stray stimuli
and the uncontrolled reactions

out of the way,

the dust begins to settle,
the mind becomes clearer.

You can thus view yourself,
know yourself, at far greater clarity.

Your prejudices, your preferences,
your desires, your aversions.

You can clearly see their machinations,
their manipulations.

Far more important than all this,

when you're mindful,

you begin to enjoy this whole show
as a spectator or witness.

You know, the actor -- I, me, myself,
gradually starts to lose relevance.

And when you start to view the world

with a little less of self-reference,

things automatically begin to seem
a bit more calm, a bit more pleasant.

Well, that was about happiness
and the paradox.

If you allow me just one more minute

I'll let you know all the clichés
related to happiness.

The clichés -- those phrases
which we hear so often

that they cease to have
any meaning for us whatsoever.

Now when we consider a cliché,
we view it as a point, that red point,

on the circle of our understanding.

When we take a side view

we realize that what we thought
to be a circle is, in fact, a spiral.

OK?

Then it's further revealed
to us -- this is getting technical --,

it's further revealed to us

that the cliché which from
our top view appears to be fixed,

actually has the potential to exist
at higher and higher planes of profundity.

For example, the simple words,
the simple cliché:

"Do your best, forget the rest"

is true for both a school-going child
and the great philosopher Spinoza.

But the insight that each derives
from these words is hugely different.

So all I'm trying to say

is that when it comes to clichés
related to happiness and spirituality,

they tend to have
more than one layer of meanings.

So, the thought that I want
to leave you with is:

Let's not be shy
of revisiting our clichés.

Let's not be shy of trying to unlock them

using any combination of techniques
from the three paths.

And yes, while using the three paths,

let's not forget,
let's always keep in mind

the basic principle
that lies at their core.

The principle that before
we seek happiness,

let's make ourselves
more conducive to receiving it.

Thank you.

(Applause)