Jubilance is Not Arrogance

by Chris Johnson

Instigator, anthill kicker.

Author website

Jubilance is Not Arrogance

“Why are you so happy I say.”

“Cause I get to be me.”  I say.

“How are you” they say. “Never better,” is my invariable answer.

…

When I’m at a Starbucks, or shopping for clothing, I’m happy.  I’m happy because I’m doing somethin’ I want to be doing.  I’m happy and cheery, and delighted to be alive.  I’m loud and I can’t help it.  I engage people in a life of play.  A frolicking time.

I’ve always done this.

I have my surly moments, I have my moral failures, and I have times where I’m not yet congruent with my ideal self.  But generally—I’m happy.

And people notice that happiness.

And a few people try to bring me down a notch, down to wherever it is that they wallow.

Through every trial, I’ve been happy.  Because I know that the future is bright.  If not for everyone, certainly for me and my son and my wife and my daughter.  I’m not giddy, and I’m not Pollyanna. I’m happy because I believe in the abilities (the inalienable essence, endowed by my Creator).  I don’t hold onto a bad mood longer than a couple of minutes, ever.  My temper does not have the hold on me it did and eventually it won’t even be a part of my existence.  Because happy is winning.

I’m happy. And the world rejects that anomoaly, and I’m OK with it.  I used to wag my finger, but all I can do is lean and loaf and rejoice in the fact that I have that spark of the divine that allows me to feel and know that the road ahead is good.

When someone says, “You don’t need any more caffeine.”  I say, “why is it an anomaly to be anything but joyful—how do you think we’re meant to be?”

We’re meant to be happy.  Happy is at nobody’s expense, but look what happens when you’re happy.  You’ll infect many people with delight.  There will always be a few people that are designed to inflict misery.  These are the men that call Greg Swann arrogant, and these are the people that have quashed the spark of the divine that they have been given.  These are the people that are denying the potential and that are choosing misery, and choosing equality by inflicting their misery on others.

I’ve been alternatively sad, annoyed, angry and incensed by those folks that want to spread the muddy miserable equality.  Now?  I’m indifferent.  They are on their path, it’s not for me to change.  I am on mine.  If you make it personal, if you try hard to make me miserable, you’ll never succeed for long.   You can annoy me and you can distract me, and you can even get me to tilt at windmills.

But why?  Happiness isn’t at someone else’s expense.  Why not join me and be happy?  Why say, “are you always like that,” when you can just join the song.  I didn’t get permission from anyone to choose happiness.  I didn’t suddenly come back with some newfangled morality?

…

About 3.5 years ago, when I was moving from Real Estate into mortgage lending, my son was sick. I was flat broke—the IRS had just levied everything—which made my health insurance cancel, which made me go into lending so at least that much would be handled.  I was at the trough of my life, without the resources to do anything about this kid that was sick.

Then I realized: all that I’ve been given is a gift.  I’m entitled to nothing. This boy that I raise, that sits with me is not something that I’m entitled to.  If he should be taken from me now, it doesn’t change anything.  It was more than I deserved.  Up to that point—what had been my character?  Up to that point, did I deserve anything?  I was agonizing over if I needed to go to urgent care or not, holding him in a rocking chair.

My fear broke and so did the fever.  I felt better.

Entitlement. That’s the root of people trying to modulate others happiness.  They feel like it’s their right for some unknown reason to dictate what other men think and how they act—even when it doesn’t impact them.    They feel entitled and that’s the root of what I fight within myself.

I’m entitled to nada.

I’m entitled only to the fruits of my labor, and I’m valuable only inasmuch as I help and serve others.

When you conspire to control others like immoral,  confused animals, I may call you out, I may be momentarily given over to rage.  But, it won’t matter much in the scheme of things:

You have to be you for the rest of your life.

I get to be me for the rest of mine.