No Reason

On my way home this evening, i passed by a church and there were several people outside giving away flyers. They were wishing everyone happy holidays. And they were inviting everyone to a seminar of sorts. I threw the flyer away when i passed by a garbage can. But a part of the slogan stayed in my head. Three simple words.

Are you happy?

Honestly, I'm not. And while i was on the subway, i tried to think of those times in my life wherein i felt genuinely happy. The type of happiness that makes one feel warm inside, not the type of surreal and artificial happiness that alcohol brings. I tried to think of those times wherein I could say that I really felt happy... and I couldn't think of any. And now that I'm back at the apartment, i still can't think of much.

When I was given my first car, I guess I was happy then. I could go places. I could do things that i could never do before. And it gave me a certain amount of freedom. it was the shallow type of happiness that material things give you, but i was happy nevertheless.

When i first learned how to surf. And the many instances after that. The feeling you get as you ride the waves is indescribable. If I have to give it a word, it's nothing short of exhilarating. You wouldn't mind swimming back in again and again even when your shoulders become sore from all the paddling. It's temporary, and it's also shallow... but it's still happiness nevertheless.

When I first learned how to play the guitar. Even when all the songs that I knew how to play are those songs in the tutorial, i felt as if I've made some great accomplishment. It's something that I wanted to learn for so many years, and to finally learn how to play gave me a great sense of fulfillment--- and that made me happy.

When I saw one of my favorite bands perform live for the very first time--- i felt that I was in heaven. For years I've just listened to them on the radio, on my CD and MP3 players... and on that day, there they were, merely a few feet in front of me. To watch them perform with such gusto was surreal, and to share that experience with a few thousand others who share the same interest with you stimulated my senses in so many ways. That level of happiness was indescribable to me because that feeling wasn't familiar. It was such a great feeling, yet it felt so out of place.

Those times when I gave a few bucks to those beggars on the streets, and when they respond with such huge and genuine smiles, with wide eyed awe as if you've given them a small fortune even when what you've given them won't even last for a day. When they say thank you with all of their hearts, and you can clearly see how grateful they are, and you would be grateful yourself because you are so much better off--- during those times i felt all warm inside. i felt happy. Some sort of acknowledgment that I have made a difference in their lives, no matter how small and insignificant--- that makes me happy. Too bad only a few of them respond that way.

When I've helped several patients get well and they thank me sincerely and genuinely... even if they do not give me anything material in return, their gratitude made me feel happy. Even if their cases proved to be difficult, even when treating them involved so much work, all those hardships disappear in an instant when you see that you have helped them get well and they express their gratitude in return. Too bad only a few patients were that way. I'm aware that simply knowing that you have helped should be enough, but when people make you feel appreciated makes that much of a difference. Most say thanks in a very mechanical manner, as if they were required to do it, or as if they were only doing it out of habit. You could feel their lack of sincerity. Some are indifferent, some wouldn't say thanks at all. And there are a few who act as if you owe them a favor for allowing themselves to be treated by you, and some shout out expletives in return. Such patients amplify all your frustrations, and they make you wonder why you even chose to be a doctor in the first place.

When the plane landed in Seattle about a year ago. I felt genuinely happy. That was the first time that I travelled alone, and I felt as if i was about to undertake a huge adventure. And I had a great outlook in life then. There was so much potential. I was about to make my dreams a reality. Back then, it all seemed possible. Back then, it seemed that all was within arms reach. So early in the game i was a fool to believe in the ideal. I was ignorant, i was foolish, but i was happy.

Two months before my grandma passed away, i remember that one instance when we were talking in her room. We were smiling, we were laughing, talking about random stuff, talking about nothing... I was happy then... at least for a few minutes. Because after a while I wondered why we didn't do that often... just sitting in front of the TV and talking. I tried to think of the last time i've had a meaningful conversation with her, and I realized I had none. All those years, though I was always in close proximity, though I talked to her everyday... those conversations were all shallow and perfunctory. When it came to meaningful conversation, the type of conversation that would get to you, the type of conversation that affects your whole being, the type of conversation that you'd remember for a long time and cherish for an entire lifetime... i realized that we had none. Amidst the happiness that i was feeling that time, i realized something very depressing.

Happiness is essential to all human beings. We need happiness to continue living because it takes our minds off the negative, it distracts us from all the pain. When happiness evades us, we see all the darkness underneath, we see the pain of reality, we lose our shield from all the misery. Happiness gives us reason to live until the next day, it makes us look forward to tomorrow, it gives us the inspiration and strength to keep fighting. Happiness fools us into believing that there's still so much to live for even when there is none, it keeps us from giving up and letting go.

But when all happiness is gone, when nothing can mask the reality anymore--- what happens to the man who discovers that there's nothing there to live for?

I know the answer to that question. I've known the answer for a long time now. I just choose not to say it out loud.... not yet, anyway. But I will when all is certain and final. I will, when there's no more turning back. There are things that are better left in silence when there are still lingering doubts... but when all doubts are gone, i will have to decide. Things will fall into place in due time.

For now, I'm just waiting for a sign.