Many cultures have a word for it. German folk call it “Freudenfreude.” To Buddhism, it’s “Mudhita,” an intentional meditation on the joy of others.
We have a word for it – “compersion” – but I’ll wager that you’ve never heard it; we don’t talk much about other people’s joy, or how we might help them find more. The American dream doesn’t make room for much beyond the more selfish pursuits.
As a 57-year-old who has chased many things – even caught a few – I’ll testify that it’s a dream that doesn’t quite deliver on its promises.
I live in one of the most popular cities in the US, in one of the biggest houses I’ve ever owned, with more discretionary income than I could have ever procured on my own. I travel/rest/play/hobby, etc. – frequently – and have checked most of the boxes on my bucket list.
My attitude towards life, and my experience of her ups and downs isn’t much different than when I attended grad school, living in the ratty (literally) attic “dormitory” of an inner-city church, balancing a financial situation that was constantly in the red. My large car (dubbed “The Holy Spirit” by an irreverant friend) had no AC to shield me from Dallas’ sweltering heat.
If I moved to a hipper city, bought a bigger house, married a more amazing human, kicked a few more bucket list items, got the fame that I’ve always dreamed of, etc., things wouldn’t feel much different than they do now. To this point, whatever joy I’ve experienced has had nothing to do with homes or possessions or whatever other ingredients make up the American dream.
Most of the happiness I’ve found has been associated with friends and family.
On my deathbed, I won’t be remembering how I built a Jeep, for example. I might remember all the fun I had in it with the kids, or that time I drove my hot girlfriend to a brewery and she sang on the ride home.
The top (of the Jeep) was off, the sun was shining, her black hair was flowing in the wind. Open-container laws may have been broken.
I’ll never forget it.
I’ve known for awhile now that my happiness is inextricably tied to others. Recently, however, my understanding has been stretched a bit. Maybe it’s the spawn of parenting; constantly expending my energy on behalf of someone else – “serving others” like never before.
I’m now daydreaming about expending my time, energy, and resources on making others happy, even people who are undeserving. It doesn’t happen often, mind you, but it’s happening. I just don’t know what to do with it, and I’m struggling to give it credibility. The precepts and commandments of the American Dream ring through my head; so powerful that they exert authority over my religion, though it should be the other way around.
I’m no expert at Freudenfreude, but as a beginner its fascinating to take a break from ruminating about the intricate details of my life and reflect instead, for example, on the successes of some of my friends. One built his own church, led it across the Devil’s lawn, and now leads one of the only LGBTQ inclusive churches in Denver.
It’s difficult to think about his success without thinking about my lack of it – envy and shame are the opposite of Freudenfreude. But when I get past the garbage, it’s peaceful and freeing to reflect on what he’s done, and what it must feel like to sit back on Sunday morning in a Synagogue that was built 100 years ago, looking out at the faces of generous, open God-followers who have learned to see and love Queer folk as God does.
Puts a tear in my eye.
Why not spend my time reflecting on the joy of others instead of all the ways I’ve screwed up, or the many things that can go wrong? My mind needs a break, a big one, and this sounds like a new way to move forward.
Erika Weisz, an empathy researcher and postdoctoral fellow in psychology at Harvard University, said the feeling closely resembles positive empathy — the ability to experience someone else’s positive emotions. A small 2021 study examined positive empathy’s role in daily life and found that it propelled kind acts, like helping others. Sharing in someone else’s joy can also foster resilience, improve life satisfaction and help people cooperate during a conflict.
I can also invest in the joy of others, giving away things that are “mine” so that someone can have more fun with them. If I give my money away, I can spend some time thinking about the people who were blessed by it, or just go out and give it directly to people in need. When I’m sad/lonely/depressed/etc., I’ll have their smile etched in my brain for easy access.
Moving forward, I’m not sure how this will look for me and my family, but it’ll need to be a staple, something that I’m sure will move us closer to the peace and hope that we’re looking for.
To do that, we’ll have to convince ourselves that we have everything we need, that there’s not some “thing” just on the horizon that will turn our happiness dial up a few notches, a dream that requires everything we have.
The Bible calls that “idolatry,” i.e., giving power to things that don’t have power. It is openly condemned throughout our holy writ, probably because it results in so little joy and so much heartache.
If we can manage to stop running from the life that’s sitting in our laps, we’ll have room for other, much more productive pursuits, maybe a bit more Mudhita.
