The Happiness in Self-Forgetfulness

There is joy in self-forgetfulness. So I try to make the light in others’ eyes my sun, the music in others’ ears my symphony, the smile on others’ lips my happiness.

- Helen Keller

Helen Keller was born deaf and blind. Her condition forced her to think about herself most of the time. It took longer for her to accomplish things that most people do pretty fast—like reading. She spent more time taking care of herself and nurturing her own growth. And this is why she became the great Helen Keller—the most educated deaf and blind girl in her time.

Because she had to work hard for her education, she was left in the comforts of herself most of the time. In her autobiography, she admitted that books, rather than people, were her constant companion. They were like a little “society” of hers.

This is typical for people with disabilities, chronic illnesses, or other afflictions. They tend to focus on themselves a lot. I noticed this on others when I was a sign language interpreter with the Deaf and also on myself when I was recovering from depression. But this tendency to be self-absorbed when under such circumstances should be understandable. How and why would people with disabilities and chronic illnesses think of other people first when they have their very own “unfair” share of obstacles?

Interestingly, Helen Keller’s story later in her life sheds a different light on this question. While she spent most of her time alone with her books as a child, she started to see the beauty in thinking about other people as she got older, as the quote which began this essay suggests. Her care for others even went as far as her adopting a radical communist political ideology later in her life.

Helen Keller’s story suggests that while disability or life issues will keep us from thinking about others, we are so hardwired to be social beings that it is so difficult to escape this desire to help others, be part of a community, and contribute to the growth of people we care about.

All of us are born to connect, hardwired to live in the company of those who know and love us. When we draw from deep wells of social support—the care and concern of close friends, family, and community—we’re more resilient to the slings and arrows of fortune, and we’re considerably less vulnerable to depression. Social connection helps push the brain in an antidepressant direction, turning down activity in stress circuitry, and boosting the activity of feel-good brain chemicals like dopamine and serotonin. That’s why it makes sense to swim hard against the tide of our “culture of isolation” and to place our relationships at the very top of the priority list. Truly, nothing in life matters more.

- Stephen S. Ilardi

There is happiness in forgetting about ourselves and giving our attention to someone in need of it.

But which of these two provides the most happiness?

I propose that there is no one answer to this question but rather a myriad of possible answers. Happiness is subjective as it is unquantifiable by standard measurements.

I can only speak for myself, and what I would say is that we will be more fulfilled if we find the convergence between our personal desires and that of the others. Thinking about ourselves can help us find direction in a rather directionless life while thinking about others and serving them can provide meaning in a rather meaningless existence.

Does this mean that both thinking about oneself and thinking about other people serve the egotistic desire of self-actualization? Not really. This is simply the fact of life.

We give and the universe is generous enough to give back. Not because it knows we want something in return but simply because people resonate with the kindness in us, and like us, most people are filled with more positive emotions than we might expect.

There is happiness in self-forgetfulness because it stops the mind from thinking about questions that will take decades to answer: Who am I? What am I here for?

Self-forgetfulness shifts our focus from endless thoughts we could ponder about to concrete actions we could take—actions that, hopefully, touch the lives of so many others who are waiting for what we can offer.

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