Better to Aspire to Happiness Than Pity

One of my favorite sites to hang out on the web is GoodReads. There was a particular book I’d been considering, and one of the thousands of reviewers there, “Bokeshi”, was clearly frustrated with its overly passive, depressed protagonist. 

In fairly crude terms, he responds to her character with, “Snap out of it, woman! If you feel like you’re being mistreated, then do something about it, and don’t just sit on your bitter old ass and suffer and complain and write 'The Boredom Manifesto'. Sheesh!” But in a stroke of insight further on, he wrote, “Even if we have to bend the rules in order to achieve it, I think happiness is a much better thing to aspire to than pity.”

I left a comment, asking if I could quote him, and perhaps even adapt this as a motto. He kindly assented. Of course, these sorts of statements usually make people nervous, as if the ones saying them are advocating all sorts of shady behavior at the expense of a rule-abiding citizenry. But intuitively, we all know what he’s saying.

Photo image found on Skeptic.com
Science bends light with the force of magnetism

When we exchange happiness for pity, then what we have settled for is the hope that someone will offer tea and sympathy (or a beer or latté), and maybe go off and fulfill our dissatisfactions for us, without our participation. The sympathizer is mostly engaged with their own ego, as well. But empathy and friendship look at a problem with us, and we value the time spent and the compassion. There is reciprocal movement in the exchange. 

Photo print image: Elderly Priest and Young Woman found on Art.com
Pity means well, but does ill.

Pity, by contrast, is a cheap fix for both parties— it costs neither person much at all. It’s little more than a social reflex: a request for a pass from responsibility or judgment of the pitiable, and a murmur of noble relief from the pitiful (pity-filled) that they are abundantly above calamity. There are some who may be moved to pity, but who also seem to regard longsuffering as a lapse of good manners.

Illustration: "The Rescue" by John Roddam Spencer Stanhope 1900
The Short-term Rescue Can Lead Down Long-term Stairways

If we want pity, we can usually always find it, but it is a waste of energy to search for that. It is as commonplace as cigarette butts lying on the sidewalk, but it still takes some trouble to gather it up. If we want happiness, the kind that arises from our inner passions and a sense of purpose, then we must look to what inspires us and stirs up those senses. Passion desires that we flex our own muscles and find our own ways. Pity dulls, and can leave us muted and dumb. But passion, however weary, resonates in a pounding within our own noiseless ear.

Illustration: "Fairy Tales at Four Years Sober" found on Rehabreviews.com
Pity can take you for a ride. But you never get to steer and you'll miss your turn.

“I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself”— DH Lawrence