One of the primal characteristics we share as human beings is the quest for that special something we call happiness. Or contentment. Or serenity. And yet, for many of us, it can feel perpetually elusive.

We tell ourselves, when my situation falls into place (when I get promoted at work… when I have a family of my own… when my kids grow up…), that’s when I’ll finally experience happiness. But now? No. The present is just too broken for happiness to be possible.

Jewish wisdom, however, offers a different perspective.

Choose from the Mix

When people turned to the Rebbe feeling down about the difficulties of their lives, he would often remind them of the Kabbalistic teaching that everything in this world is composed of both good and bad.1 Our personal lives are no exception. That perfect life—an image of which might occupy our imagination and amplify all that we’re missing—doesn’t actually exist. As one letter puts it:

Human life on this earth is unfortunately not free from various factors that bring about unhappiness, and this is universal, though the causes vary. In some cases, it is children; in others, health; in still others, livelihood; and so on. To go through life in complete happiness is not destined for man.2

Considering this reality, the true frontier to achieve lasting happiness is in the internal realms of our minds, not the circumstances of our lives. No matter how great our state of affairs, there will always be something to feel down about. The primary path to happiness is therefore to proactively train our minds to focus on the good.

“Despite the tone and content [of your letter],” reads a 1960 letter to a woman who wrote of her bleak feelings about life,

I have not, G‑d forbid, lost hope that eventually you will see the good in life—including the good in your own life, and, moreover, that you will feel it in your heart as well. This is especially so considering the Chasidic teaching that in our world everything is composed of both good and bad, and human beings must choose which aspects they will emphasize, contemplate, and pursue. In everyone’s life there are two paths—to see the good or [to see the opposite]….

Needless to say, my intention is not to imply that anyone deserves suffering, G‑d forbid. My point is simply to underscore the reality: the type of lives we live, whether full of satisfaction and meaning or the opposite, depends in large measure on our will, which dictates whether we focus on the positive or the negative.3

Good Deserves More Attention

Focusing on the positive is obviously sensible from a pragmatic perspective—the end result is a happier you. But Kabbalah explains that an objective assessment calls for it, too.

Yes, everything in the universe—including our personal lives—contains both good and bad. But these two forces are not equal. Good, Kabbalah teaches, is inherently real and thus unlimited and eternal. Bad, on the other hand, is distant from the essence of existence and is ultimately transient. Hence, in the objective scale of reality, what’s truly good in our lives outweighs the bad by infinite proportions.

The 1960 letter continues:

If this [imperative to focus on the good within life’s mixture of good and bad] speaks to every individual, how much more so for a member of the Jewish people, who believe firmly in the eternity of the soul, which means the eternity of the spiritual, which means the complete triumph of good. For it is impossible that something fleeting and transient will not be overtaken entirely by the truly existing and everlasting; why, there isn’t even a comparison between them.4

Even when the negative components of our lives are searingly painful (say, a major career disappointment or the passing of a loved one), nevertheless, life’s real treasures (say, our positive accomplishments or our meaningful relationships—including with the souls of our departed loved ones) are resilient and everlasting. The bad, distressing as it might be, will ultimately be outlived by the good.

The following letter, written in connection with Rosh Hashanah (the Jewish New Year), uses this principle to address the dejection that might set in when we measure the good we’ve accomplished against our failures and wasted opportunities. After noting that our minds tend to exaggerate our shortcomings and misdeeds (see chapter 9 for more on this), the Rebbe continued:

It is possible, however, that even without exaggeration the “balance sheet” may reveal that the liabilities’ side is quite substantial, perhaps even outweighing the assets’ side.

But even in such a case, there should be no room for despondency. For alongside the feelings of sincere teshuvah [repentance] and a firm resolution to change for the better—which must be the necessary outcome of such self-searching—there is an encouraging feature in the general conduct of man, which should be borne in mind at this time.

It is that every positive and good action—positive and good in accordance with the definitions of our Torah, the Law of Life—is indestructible and eternal, being connected with and stemming from the divine spark that is in man, the neshamah [soul], which is eternal; while any negative and destructive action, being connected with and stemming from the nefesh habahamit [animalistic soul] and yetzer hara [evil inclination] in man, which are essentially limited and transient, is likewise of a temporary and transient nature, and can and must be corrected and completely wiped out through sincere and adequate repentance.

Bearing this in mind, everyone, regardless of what their personal “balance sheet” reveals, will find encouragement and renewed hope in the future, knowing that their good deeds in the past year are eternal, as are the light and benefit which these deeds brought into their own life, as well as [the lives of] their family and of our entire people.5

Appreciating this principle allows us to see our past and present in a new light. This letter to a grandfather puts it succinctly:

Even by your own assessment, the positive aspects of your life are of incomparably greater importance than the matters that are temporarily not as they should be. And when a businessperson makes an evaluation, they do not appraise every item separately; rather, they evaluate the general balance of the inventory.6

Begin With Nothing

Humility is a prerequisite for joy, the early Chasidic masters would emphasize.7

When we evaluate our lives, our most fundamental abilities—that we can hear or walk, for instance—are often overlooked. It is easy to perceive such immense blessings as inalienable rights we somehow deserve. A humbler, less entitled perspective allows us to begin counting our gifts from zero.

In Jewish tradition, every day starts with proclaiming eighteen blessings expressing gratitude for our most essential assets.8 One blessing celebrates that we were able to open our eyes, another that we have clothes, another that our body moves, and so on.

“If you pay attention,” reads a note to a young woman,

to the simple meaning of the eighteen morning blessings with which you bless G‑d at the beginning of every day, you will see that you have been blessed with all of them. In addition, you have been blessed with good health, good parents, good education, a good community, a good profession, livelihood, and more. If so, what is the justification for complaining?!9

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Exercise

Think of one difficult situation you are currently dealing with, and try to identify two genuinely good elements within that same situation.

Does this make it easier for you to manage, without waiting for circumstances to be perfect?