Several years ago, Oprah Winfrey had a show highlighting “happiness." She interviewed five people in different businesses, one of them being a funeral director (from a funeral home in Toronto of all places) and then had a psychologist analyze each person's demeanor, type of work and overall outlook on life. At the start of the show the audience members voted on which guest they thought lived the most joyful existence based upon the short interviews. Guess who the audience voted for. Well… not the funeral director. Guess who rated highest on the psychological scale. Yes indeed – the funeral director!
I happen to know that director, and it didn't surprise me one bit. His demeanor has always been commented on. His compassionate care. His sincerity. And this is revealing in so many ways on so many levels. Public perception of funeral directors for many is still, perhaps, a notion of being morose and coolly formal. That is certainly not me. I'm quite happy and secure in treating people, even grieving people, with the same gentle frankness and shared understanding I would a neighbour I stop to talk with on the street. I'm quite alright with de-stigmatizing death, while still keeping it professional, because I recognize that I have a skill, as you do in the field in which you work – but that you and I are no different when it comes to what my work is about. Like a barber who needs to get his own hair cut – I'm going to die too.
But in this lurks a great secret. There are many of us who just don't think about it or desperately try to ignore our own mortality. We should be doing the opposite. Not dwelling on it in a morose way, but using it as a tool to reflect on our lives and move forward. Therein, is the bedrock of where happiness can grow, making your life richer, dismantling that filter of denial and the illusion of “tomorrow is another day." I've never heard anyone EVER, say “I wish I had worked more" or “I wish I had loved less" or “I'm glad I kept stopping myself from doing this thing I always wanted to do."
I firmly believe the reason the funeral director was the happiest, is because he was less under his delusion than the others. He recognized deeply what his life is about. He recognized a time constraint. He was more reminded of what binds us as human beings. And notice that I acknowledged he has “his delusion" because we are all deluded to some degree. That filter is in us all. We think our things matter so much, our opinions hold more truth, ourselves, more important. But truly our lives matter only in so much as how we are, with and for, others in our work and in our interactions. Otherwise, we are islands with no life-form, and an island is only as good as it is a refuge for living things.
You could tell Oprah knew how this little “happiness" experiment of hers was going to go. But you don't have to be a funeral director to make it so. It's a lifelong endeavor. All you have to do is practice knowing how and why…you matter, in the context of everyone else who matter also.
DYING FOR MEANING.
