Are you happy?

There is a very interesting conversation at the end of Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness. To summarize, Doctor Strange has just saved Earth—and ALL Existence itself—for the second time in a row. Yet, beneath the triumph lies sadness. Throughout his journeys in the movie across multiple universes, he repeatedly encounters the love of his life in each timeline, but in each version of reality, they never quite figure it out. No matter how close they come to staying in a beautiful loving romance, they always part ways.

In one universe, however at the end of the movie, he has a moment of clarity. He tells her, with deep sincerity, “I want you to know that I have loved you in every Universe.” And then, for the final time, they go their separate ways.

It is after this bittersweet realization that, at the very end of the film, Doctor Strange turns to his superior, the Sorcerer Supreme, and asks a question:

Dr. Strange: “…but i do want to ask you something……..Are you happy?

Supreme Sorcerer (looking perplexed because with all his wisdom, this answer is elusive to him says back) : “That's an interesting question.”

Dr. Strange: “I think that saving the world will get you there, but it doesn't.”

Supreme Sorcerer: “sometimes I do wonder

for my other lives you know?…” – (he is referring to other timelines and infinite realities because the Supreme Sorcerer recognizes that he himself with all his power too is not as happyas he thinkshe should be)

Supreme Sorcerer continues: “…. And I remain grateful in this one…even with its trials and tribulations.”

Dr. Strange (pauses, reflecting and then the only answer he can come up with says): “At least we don’t have to go through it alone, huh?”

Supreme Sorcerer: “No we do not.” (smiles)

_______________________________________

Would you consider yourself happy?

It is a curious question, isn’t it?

A question that, upon being asked, immediately sends the mind scurrying about like a startled squirrel, searching for a satisfactory answer. We rummage through the filing cabinets of our recent experiences, looking for evidence. Well, you might say, “I had a rather delightful piece of toast this morning.” Or, “The sun is shining, and that’s something to be cheerful about.” Or perhaps the squirrel returns with a heavy sigh, reporting a litany of frustrations, anxieties, and the knowing feeling that something is fundamentally amiss.

And so, you see, the very act of asking the question—of putting yourself on the spot to deliver a verdict on your own state of being—is the beginning of the problem. It is like trying to grasp a sunbeam in your fist. The moment you clench your hand, the light is gone and you are left with nothing but a shadow. Happiness is much the same. It is not a thing to be possessed, a destination to be arrived at, or a prize to be won.

In fact, the more you chase it, the more it eludes you. It’s like a mischievous little imp that delights in leading you on a merry chase through the brambles of your own expectations.

We live in a culture that is utterly hypnotized by the illusion of a future, a culture that has sold us a bill of goods. We are taught from a very young age to strive, to achieve, to become. We are told that if we just get the right job, find the right partner, buy the right house, and accumulate the right collection of shiny objects, then—and only then—will we be granted the golden ticket to happiness. We are, in essence, living on a promise, a promissory note for a future joy that never quite seems to arrive.

Think of the educational system: you go to kindergarten so that you can go to elementary school. You go to elementary school so that you can go to middle school and then high school and then, of course, college. And why do you go to college? To get a good job, naturally. And why do you want a good job? So that you can make enough money to retire. And finally, at the ripe old age of 65, you can at last begin to enjoy your life.

What a colossal joke…

As I’ve often said, it’s better to have a short life that is full of what you like doing than a long life spent in a miserable way.

This is the great swindle of our civilization. We are always preparing to live, but never actually living. We are like a donkey with a carrot dangled in front of its nose, forever plodding forward in the hopes of a reward that is always just out of reach. We are so busy getting ready for the banquet that we forget to taste the food that is right in front of us. And so we are always a little bit late to the feast of life.

Now, what is to be done if you find yourself in this predicament? What if you have asked yourself the question, “Am I happy?” and the answer that echoes back from the depths of your being is a resounding “No”…?

The first thing, my dear friends, is to stop fighting it. Stop treating your unhappiness as if it were an enemy to be vanquished. The more you struggle against it, the more you try to fix your sadness or your anxiety, the more you struggle against unhappiness, the more you reinforce its power over you. It is like trying to smooth out ripples in a pond with a flat iron—you will only create more turbulence. The very effort to be happy becomes a form of tension, a subtle violence that you inflict upon yourself. It is the “I” who is unhappy trying to become a happy “I.” But who is this “I” that is doing the trying? It is a ghost, a phantom, a socially constructed illusion. It is the ego—that persistent sense of being a separate, isolated individual, a skin-encapsulated self. And it is this very feeling of separation that is the root of our unhappiness. We feel lonely and afraid because we feel cut off from the rest of the universe.

So the first step is to see the futility of this inner war. You cannot win a fight against yourself, because there is no one to fight. There is only the experience of this present moment. And that experience is neither good nor bad—it simply is. Now you might say, “But that’s all very well and good for you to say. You are a philosopher. But I have real problems. I have bills to pay, a difficult boss, and a nagging pain in my lower back.” Of course you do. To be alive is to have problems. Suffering is an intrinsic part of the human experience. As the Buddhists say, Life is suffering. But the trick is not to let suffering make you unhappy.

Unhappiness is a reaction to suffering, not the suffering itself. It is the story you tell yourself about the pain—the resistance you put up against the natural flow of life.

Take back pain, for example. The pain itself is a physical sensation, a series of nerve impulses being sent to your brain. That is all it is.

But then the mind gets involved.

It starts to spin a tale: “Oh, this is terrible. I can’t stand this pain. It’s going to ruin my day. Maybe it’s something serious. What if it never goes away?” And so on and so forth. It is this mental commentary, this frantic resistance to what is, that creates unhappiness.

So what to do? Instead of resisting the pain, try a different approach. Allow yourself to feel it completely. Don’t label it as bad or unwanted. Just be with the sensation. Observe it with a kind of detached curiosity, as a scientist might observe a strange new phenomenon. You might be surprised at what happens when you stop fighting the pain. When you accept it as part of your present experience, it often loses its power over you. It may still be there, but it no longer dominates your awareness.

This is what the Zen masters mean by “chopping wood and carrying water.” It is the art of being fully present with whatever you are doing without judgment or resistance. Whether you are washing the dishes, walking in the park, or even experiencing pain, you can bring a sense of mindfulness and acceptance to the moment. And in that acceptance, you will find a strange kind of freedom. There is no greater freedom than the freedom to be what you are now.

This brings us to the heart of the matter: the importance of living in the present moment. We are a culture that is obsessed with time. We are always looking back at the past with regret or nostalgia, or looking forward to the future with hope or anxiety. We have no present. Our now becomes just a fleeting infinitesimal hairline between a past that we can no longer change and a future that does not yet exist. But the truth is that the present moment is all there ever is. It is the only reality we can ever truly know. The past is a memory, a collection of fading photographs in the album of the mind. The future is a fantasy, a projection of our hopes and fears. But the now—this very moment—is real. The now is where life happens. To be fully alive is to be fully present. It means being completely engaged with what you are doing right here and now. And when you are truly present, you will discover that the ordinary becomes extraordinary. The simplest things—the taste of a cup of tea, the feeling of the sun on your skin, the sound of birds singing outside your window—become sources of immense joy and wonder.

But how do we learn to live in the present? It is not a matter of trying to force yourself to “be here now.” That is just another form of struggle, another trick of the ego. Rather, it is a matter of letting go—letting go of your incessant need to control everything, letting go of your worries about the future and your regrets about the past, letting go of the idea that you need to be somewhere other than where you are. One of the best ways to practice this is through meditation. And by meditation, I do not mean some esoteric ritual that requires you to sit in a full lotus position for hours chanting strange mantras. I simply mean the art of paying attention. Sit quietly for a few minutes each day. Close your eyes and bring your awareness to your breath. Feel the sensation of air entering and leaving your body. Don’t try to control your breath; just observe it. When your mind wanders, as it inevitably will, gently bring it back to your breath. That is all there is to it.

This simple practice, done consistently, can have a profound effect on your life. It teaches you to be present, to be aware, and to become a non-judgmental witness to your own experience. It helps you to see that you are not your thoughts, not your emotions, not even your body. You are the silent, spacious awareness in which all of these things arise and pass away. Now, I can hear some of you saying, “But this all sounds very passive. What about taking action? What about changing the world for the better?” By all means, take action. Change the world. But do it from a place of presence and acceptance, not from a place of anxiety and striving.

The great paradox is that when you stop trying to fix everything—when you accept things as they are—you place yourself in a much better position to bring about real and lasting change. Think of it this way: if you are trying to build a house, you need a solid foundation. If you are building on a foundation of anxiety and dissatisfaction, your house will inevitably be wobbly and unstable.

But if you build on a foundation of presence and acceptance, your house will be strong and enduring. The same is true for your life. When you are grounded in the present moment, you are able to act with clarity, wisdom, and compassion. You are no longer a slave to your reactive emotions; you are free to respond to the needs of the moment in a creative and intelligent way. And what you will discover is that the world doesn’t need as much fixing as you thought it did. In fact, many of our so-called problems are of our own making. They are the result of our frantic and misguided attempts to control a universe that is, by its very nature, uncontrollable.

When you let go of the need to control, you will find that the universe has a wonderful way of taking care of itself. The clouds drift across the sky without any help from you. The trees grow and the flowers bloom without your interference. And you, my dear friends, are a part of this same natural process. You are not a separate entity struggling against the universe—you are the universe. This is the great secret that mystics of all traditions have been trying to tell us for centuries. You are not just a skin-encapsulated ego. You are the whole show. You are the big bang, the spiral galaxies, the shining sun, and the gentle rain. You are the works.

Of course, you are pretending that you are not.

You are playing a game of hide-and-seek with yourself. You have put on the mask of a separate, limited individual, and you have become so engrossed in the game that you have forgotten it is just a game. But every now and then you get a glimpse behind the mask. You have a moment of pure, unadulterated joy—a moment when the illusion of separation dissolves and you feel a sense of oneness with everything. These are the moments that we all live for. And the wonderful thing is that you don’t have to wait for them to happen by chance. You can cultivate them. You can create the conditions in which they are more likely to arise. You do this by living in the present moment, by accepting what is, and by letting go of your attachment to the ego.

Imagine for a moment that you had the power to dream any dream you wanted. You could have any pleasure, any experience you could possibly conceive of, and you could dream for as long as you liked—seventy-five years of pure, unadulterated bliss, night after night. At first it would be wonderful. You would fulfill all your wishes and satisfy all your desires. But after a while, you would start to get a little bored. You would say to yourself, “This is all very nice, but it’s a bit predictable. I want a surprise. I want a dream that is not under my control.” And so you would begin to introduce an element of risk, of adventure, into your dreams. You would have dreams in which you were in danger, in which you had to overcome obstacles, in which you didn’t know what was going to happen next. And you would find that these dreams were much more exciting, much more interesting, than your dreams of pure pleasure.

You would become more and more adventurous, taking bigger and bigger risks, until finally you would dream the dream of the life you are living right now. So you see, the life you are living is the dream you have chosen. You have chosen the challenges, the struggles, the heartaches, and the joys. And you have done this because you knew that this was the most interesting, the most exciting, the most fulfilling dream you could possibly have. Now you have forgotten that you have chosen it. You are pretending that you are a helpless victim of circumstances. But deep down, you know the truth. You know that you are the dreamer of the dream. And when you remember this, everything changes. You are no longer a victim. You are a creator. You are no longer at the mercy of life—you are life itself. And in that realization, you will find a happiness that is unshakable, a peace that passes all understanding. So what does this mean in practical terms? How do we live this out in our daily lives?

It means, first of all, to take a playful attitude toward life. Don’t take it all so seriously. It’s a game, a dance, a drama, and you are one of the actors. So play your part with gusto, but don’t forget that it is just a part. Don’t identify with it too strongly. It also means to see the beauty in the ordinary. The world is a museum of wonders, and you have a front-row seat. But you have to open your eyes to see it. You must be present to the miracle of this moment.

It means to love without clinging. Love people. Love animals. Love the world. But don’t try to possess them. Let them be free, and in their freedom, you will find your own. It means to embrace the whole of life—the good and the bad, the light and the dark. You cannot have one without the other. They are two sides of the same coin. The joy and the sorrow, the pleasure and the pain, are all part of the rich tapestry of existence.

It also means to trust the process. The universe is not a random collection of atoms. It is an intelligent and orderly unfolding, and you are a part of that unfolding. So relax. Let go. Trust that you are exactly where you need to be. And finally, it means to be grateful—grateful for the gift of life in all its messy and magnificent glory, grateful for the air you breathe, the food you eat, the people you love, and the simple fact of your own existence.

When you live in this way, you will discover a happiness that is not dependent on external circumstances. It is a happiness that arises from within, from your own deep connection to the source of all life. It is the happiness of being what you are. And so, my dear friends, I ask you the question once more: Are you happy? But this time, I invite you to answer not with your mind, but with your whole being. Don’t think about it. Don’t analyze it. Just feel it. And if you are very quiet, if you listen carefully, you may hear a little voice within you—a voice that has been there all along—whispering: Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes.

Let us delve a little deeper into this matter of acceptance, for it is a word that is often misunderstood. Acceptance does not mean resignation. It does not mean that you should be a doormat and let people walk all over you. It does not mean that you should condone injustice or cruelty. Acceptance simply means to see things as they are, without the filter of your judgments and opinions. It is to acknowledge the reality of this moment, whether you like it or not. And the strange thing is that when you truly accept a situation, it often begins to change. It is as if the universe has been waiting for you to stop fighting it, to stop resisting it, so that it can work its magic.

I have known people who struggled for years with a particular problem—a difficult relationship, a chronic illness, a dead-end job. They tried everything to fix it. They read all the self-help books, attended countless workshops, and spent a small fortune on therapy, but nothing worked. And then, one day, they gave up. They surrendered. They said, “I can’t fight this anymore. I accept it. It is what it is.” And in that moment of surrender, something miraculous happened. The problem began to dissolve. The relationship improved. The illness became more manageable. A new and better job opportunity appeared out of the blue. It was as if the very act of resistance had been what was keeping the problem in place. And when the resistance is gone, the energy is freed up for a new and more creative solution to emerge. So if you are facing a difficult situation in your life, I invite you to try this experiment for just one day: stop trying to fix it. Stop struggling against it. Stop complaining about it. Just for one day, accept it completely and see what happens. You may be pleasantly surprised.

Now, let me say a word about the role of the mind in all of this. The mind is a wonderful tool but a terrible master, and for most of us, the mind is in the driver’s seat. It is running the show. Our minds chatter away constantly like noisy little monkeys in a cage—judging, comparing, analyzing, and criticizing. They worry about the future, regret the past, and in doing so, they rob us of the present. We have become so identified with our minds that we believe we are our minds. We believe the voice in our head is who we are. But you are not the voice in your head—you are the one who is listening to the voice in your head. You are the silent, spacious awareness in which thoughts come and go.

When you realize this, you are no longer a prisoner of your mind. You can step back and observe your thoughts without being entangled in them. You can watch them as you would watch clouds drifting across the sky. This is the essence of mindfulness, and it is a skill that can be cultivated through practice. The next time you find yourself caught in a storm of negative thoughts, try this: first, acknowledge the thoughts. Don’t try to push them away or suppress them—just notice them. Then, label the thoughts. Say to yourself, “Ah, there’s the ‘I’m not good enough’ story again,” or “There’s the ‘what if’ worry.” This simple act of labeling creates a little space between you and your thoughts. It helps you see that they are just thoughts, not reality. Finally, let them go. Imagine them as leaves floating down a stream, or clouds being carried away by the wind.

Don’t expect your mind to become completely silent—that is not the goal. The goal is to develop a new relationship with your mind, one of gentle and loving detachment. When you do this, you will find your mind becoming a much more peaceful and pleasant place to be. And you will be free to experience the joy and beauty of the present moment without the constant interference of your chattering mind.

And so we come back to the beginning: are you happy? And if not, what are you going to do about it? Will you continue to chase after a future that never arrives? Will you continue to fight a battle against yourself that you can never win? Or will you try a different approach—letting go of the struggle, embracing the present moment, and accepting yourself and your life just as they are? Will you befriend your mind and listen to the wisdom of your heart?

The choice, my dear friends, is yours. But I can tell you this: the path of happiness is not a path of striving and achieving. It is a path of letting go and allowing. It is the path of becoming what you are. And what you are is something far more wonderful, far more magnificent, than you have ever dared to imagine. You are the universe expressing itself as a human being for a little while. You are a wave in the ocean of consciousness, a star shining in the darkness. And when you know this—when you feel this in the very marrow of your bones—then you will be happy. Not because of anything you have done or achieved, but simply because you are.

And that, my friends, is the greatest happiness of all. So go now and live. Live with presence, live with passion, live with playfulness, and above all, live with love. For in the end, love is all that matters. It is the beginning and the end, the alpha and the omega, the one true reality. And you, my dear friends, are made of love. So go and share your love with the world. And in doing so, you will find the happiness you have been seeking all along.

(from Marvel, Shannon Goertz, and the great majority is from the teaching of Alan Watts)