On the Sunny Side – At the West End Gallery
This is the true joy in life: the being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one, the being thoroughly worn out before you are thrown on the scrap heap, the being a force of nature instead of a feverish selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy.
-George Bernard Shaw, Man and Superman (1903)
I came across a word I hadn’t heard the other day.
Freudenfreude.
It is basically the opposite of the German word Schadenfreude which, as we all know all too well, is the act of taking joy in the misfortune of others.
Freudenfreude, on the other hand, means to take genuine pleasure or joy in witnessing the success, good fortune, or happiness of others.
I loved this idea of taking joy in the joy of others. I know and have experienced this feeling. I have tried to describe it to the folks who have attended my gallery talks over the years. but don’t know that I have did a good job in doing so. My words seem so weak compared to the actual feeling that feels like a burst of joy fills the heart. A good kind of heart attack.
It reminded me of a blogpost from back in 2016 that shared one instance of the Freudenfreude that I have been privileged to experience. The original blogpost has been reworked a bit and is below, followed by a jazzy version of On the Sunny Side of the Street from Esperanza Spalding. It’s from a 2015 White House performance and it showcases her virtuosity on the double bass. Nice version with a lot of joy in it.
I hope some of you have felt some freudenfreude for yourself during this holiday season. That would make me– and you– very happy.
Joyful Contentment was the phrase that first came to mind when I finished this painting, On the Sunny Side, a few years back. There was just a feeling of realized joy and uncomplaining contentedness throughout it, the kind that Shaw described above in his play Man and Superman.
I think the feeling he describes must be one of the greatest joys in this world: to find a purpose into which you can fully throw your whole being for all of your time on this planet.
A purpose that gives you a place to stand and rise above the selfishness and pettiness of those, including yourself, who would drag you down.
A purpose that allows you to tap into some greater force in order to gain energy for your toils.
A purpose that lets you deny the cynicism that sometimes shows up in abundance in this world.
A purpose that serves you endless joy in what seem to be empty moments.
A purpose that even finds the joy in tears.
I think there is a purpose for each of us. Finding it is not always a simple matter and some of us will never find the one purpose that is truly our own. We may not be willing to give enough of ourselves to something that is beyond our own needs and desires. We might still find some joy in our life but it will no doubt be short lived.
For me, it has been painting. At first, I found this surprising because I often viewed it as being selfish in nature. It was my perspectives. My emotions. It was even called self-expression.
But I found that there is purpose in it and that this came from having others find comfort and happiness in their reactions to my expression.
Their joy fed my joy, even more than my own satisfaction and joy from the work.
But there are days when I still find myself losing sight of this purpose, when it is a struggle both in the studio and in the outer world and I feel drawn back down to less positive feelings. But I will be somehow reminded of that purpose and that joyful feeling returns.
That happened the other day. A gallery owner called and told me of a person who had bought a painting of mine that they had desired for quite a long time. In fact, this person had come into the gallery for this painting and it was gone, having been returned to me. I immediately sent the piece back to the gallery and when the person returned to get it, they started crying in joy. I can’t even express how this makes me feel outside of saying again that their joy fed my joy, their tears became my tears.
Those moments make my time alone in the studio seem more special and filled with purpose. They make me that joyous one, if only for a while.
And that is good enough for me…
Redtree Times 
Perfectly expressed. Kudos to you.
Until I read this post, and learned the word freudenfreude, I’d never had reason to consider the name of a certain famous psychoanalyst, but sure enough: Sigmund Freud’s last name does indeed mean ‘joy.’ For some reason, that amuses me.
You’ve also reminded me of two songs that specifically reference joy. There’s the lovely carol, of course: “Joy to the World.” But we can’t ignore that other paean to joy — and Jeremiah, who brought it to us.