Eudaemonia
A Concept to Explore
Aristotle concedes that ‘to do things well is rare’. According to Aristotle, eudaemonia is perfect and self-sufficient, that is eudaemonia by itself makes life desirable and is in no way deficient.
Michiko Kumano explores the Japanese concept of Ikigai and described it as eudaemonic well-being, as it ‘entails actions of devoting oneself to pursuits one enjoys and is associated with feelings of accomplishment and fulfilment’.
While we seek pleasure in all things and aim towards happiness, often it is fleeting and does not last. Once attained, happiness or the source of it shifts forms and we are in a loop of moving paths in pursuit of happiness. We often look back at memories and sigh at a happier time. This feeling is probably now in the present, when we we look at an old photograph or recollect a happy memory. The time that photograph was taken or the memories we reminisce may not have been as happy as they seem now in retrospect. Sometimes we get happiness from re-living the past and by looking at it from a refocused lens. Other irrelevant details are gone now and the moment with its expectations has passed. So the time seems more peaceful or happy than it really was.
That which is not in happiness or in contentment, but in the presence of its awareness. That’s eudaemonia for me.
Flowers bloom, green leaves sprout while birds chirp and seasons change, irrespective of the uncertainties of time. They do not anticipate or depend on a condition precedent for the pursuit of happiness as we know it. They live and in that moment serve the purpose of their being. That’s eudaemonia for me in a pure form.
A happy recollection or a meaningful memory of a time well lived is a warm safe space to visit for me. When I tuck the night pillow burying my face in it after a good day’s work and I smell my loved one’s scent in the covers I glow with a warmth in my blood. That’s eudaemonia for me.
When I wake up to go to work and I am late for the morning’s chores, I glance outside the window perhaps to check the weather, and I notice a small pink bud in the flower pot, blooming into a pink rose with white lines just peeking out with a crystal dew drop on its leaves. It dances gently with the breeze and we smile at each other at the wonders of life. That’s eudaemonia for me.
When I feel that things are falling apart and my deadlines are not met, I have no more energy to do the dishes and the phone rings incessantly seeking attention, I open the screen and look at the video of my baby niece drawing lines of trees on paper. She holds up the sheet and shows the drawing to me in excitement. Those lines are my inheritance to her and in that brief moment I have truly lived. That’s eudaemonia for me.
That which is created must be destroyed, often by itself as an act of nature. The very passing of this life and the realisation of its transience is a moment of wonder yet ironical truth. That we must hold on to things while knowing we must not hold on to them.
As I splash cold water on my face on a summer’s day , I look at my reflection in the mirror, looking at me. My hair is out of place so I comb it and some of the strands break. I put my hair in a bun and lean into the mirror to peer at the inside of my eye- an act I deeply enjoy and which has always amused me. I make a random face at myself and critically analyse the lines on my skin. How would I be in the years to come and how I were some years back, I ponder. And I smile at the eyes that have remained the same. The camera to this world and a data cloud with ever-growing storage capacity- this gift of my vision. I make a fast rewind of our adventures together and we smile at each other. That’s eudaemonia for me.
As I look at the waves ebb and flow endlessly into the Arabian Sea, I remember the walks I took here, each failed relationship I poured myself into with love, year after year till I had none left for me, a tear blurs the sea waves and the perfect Sun becomes a blotched orange dot. I remember the person I have become now, of this journey I am in with myself, without any pretence of being. I play with my glass bangles that I bought for myself from the cart seller and know that I am always enough for me. That’s eudaemonia for me.
We each decide our own sweet spots. We define our own eudaemonia and that is the beauty and wonder of it.
A Haiku to hold this thought.
All of life I sum
in the moment passing by
just feel its bliss now
Author Lubna Yusuf
In response to the Stirring theme Prompt Eudaemonia:
I would like to invite Tre L. Loadholt , Dennett, Harper Thorpe, Martin Vidal, Matt Lillywhite, Puzi and all readers to explore this theme and participate in the writing prompt if intrigued.
