Redtree Times

“Exile on Main Street“- (2020)

I actually attack the concept of happiness. The idea that—I don’t mind people being happy—but the idea that everything we do is part of the pursuit of happiness seems to me a really dangerous idea and has led to a contemporary disease in Western society, which is fear of sadness. It’s a really odd thing that we’re now seeing people saying “write down three things that made you happy today before you go to sleep” and “cheer up” and “happiness is our birthright” and so on. We’re kind of teaching our kids that happiness is the default position. It’s rubbish. Wholeness is what we ought to be striving for and part of that is sadness, disappointment, frustration, failure; all of those things which make us who we are. Happiness and victory and fulfillment are nice little things that also happen to us, but they don’t teach us much. Everyone says we grow through pain and then as soon as they experience pain they say, “Quick! Move on! Cheer up!” I’d like just for a year to have a moratorium on the word “happiness” and to replace it with the word “wholeness.” Ask yourself, “Is this contributing to my wholeness?” and if you’re having a bad day, it is.

~Hugh Mackay, The Good Life (2013)

I was having trouble writing something this morning. Went down a lot of dead streets in the process and maybe found some useful material for a later date. But nothing for this morning and, in doing so, found myself short on time. I made a quick decision to do something I have never done in the 18(!) years I have been writing this blog which is to rerun a post from this year. Normally, I won’t run something again until at least a few years have passed. There are a few reasons I chose this particular post. First, I have looked at this 2020 painting, Exile on Main Street, several times in recent days here in the studio. It was from a short-lived series, as most my series are, that I really enjoyed working on at the time and really enjoy taking in now. I always find something new to focus on in each view of it.

The second reason was that this post mentions some things I brought up in last Saturday’s Gallery Talk at the West End Gallery, mainly the story that came before my fall from the ladder that I normally refer to as the origin story for my career as an artist. I don’t usually talk in any depth about the beatdowns and breakdowns that led me to art, but I did talk briefly about it last week. To be honest, it felt good to get it out in the open. Liberating. I had several folks comment on it afterward and thank me while relating their own stories to it. I will most likely go into it in more detail someday here. Small steps.

The third reason was that I just felt like some Rolling Stones this morning. The painting is, as you most likely know, is titled after their classic 1972 album. The Exile is also a recurring theme in some of my work, a concept with which I often self-identify. So, hope you don’t mind but here’s that post from back in January along with Soul Survivor from the Stones. Seems right for this morning’s post.

I came across the passage above from Australian psychologist Hugh Mackay recently and it pretty well summed up a thought that has been with me for some time. We downplay the value of those less-than-happy moments that are simply part of the human experience. We raise this idea of happiness high above us as an ultimate goal. As a result, we view our failures, losses, and disappointments as a source of shame, evidence of our weakness and intellectual deficiency. Something that marks us as being somehow inferior and incomplete.  Something to hide away and try to forget.

In my own way, I have long embraced Mackay’s concept that it is our wholeness as human beings that is more important than our happiness, which is a temporary emotion. I see wholeness as an understanding that life will give us both giddy highs and dismal lows, and we must be accepting and appreciative of both.

In my life I have had plenty of these failures, losses, and disappointments. I’ve went through bankruptcy, foreclosure, repossession, firings, loss of loved ones, and illness and breakdown– both physical and mental.

Did they make me happy? Of course not. At the time each was a horrid experience. But each carried with it a lesson that could only be learned from that experience. Each lesson brought new perspectives and understandings. Each changed me in some significant way, some more than others.

These were lessons that taught, collectively, that in order to find any contentment in this world, one has to understand and accept that these down moments are, like happiness, temporary and often meaningful. Knowing this, it becomes much easier to accept and tolerate– and even find humor– in the bad times.

These lessons were invaluable in becoming what I hope is a more whole human being.

Mackay’s concept of wholeness rather than happiness as a goal makes sense to me. Sure, I want to be happy. When I am happy, I now recognize and appreciate it for what it is. I accept it gladly but don’t expect it all the time. And when I am not happy, I recognize and appreciate it for what it is, as well.

And with those moments of non-happiness now, there is a sense of contentment and moderation that comes in knowing that it is just part of our being a more whole human being.

I had a goofy little anecdote that I was going to include here but it will have to wait until another day. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe not.

Who knows?

Here’s something from Exile on Main Street.