On happiness

The Sanskrit word for happiness is sukha. Su means “good,” and kha means “space.” Good space. Happiness.

It’s an unusual language, Sanskrit, because it’s full of mirrors—secondary usages that evoke meaning by stimulating sensory experience:

Sukha is also the hole in the middle a wooden chariot wheel. It’s the space into which an axle connects. When the hole is open and unblemished, the wheel spins freely—smoothness and ease.

The Buddhist homies take it a step further. Happiness is a state when nothing’s missing. This raises characteristically mind-melting problems, because of course yearning for happiness creates the exact conditions for it not to appear.

There’s also an open hole in the heart. Physically, yes, empty space where blood and oxygen mix, but also, like, there’s an open hole in the heart. You know? Heart in Sanskrit is anahata, which means “unstruck sound.” It’s a bell that has not been rung. No differentiation. Just pure potential.

In reality we’re super good at plugging holes. It’s also pretty clear that the whole system of supply and demand revolves around a search for what’s missing. But happiness is learning to leave good space. There’s always something missing. Getting what you want doesn’t ring the bell.