A lesson on Transcendentalism
Dear Friend,
They stared at me with blank eyes when I posed the prompt for their final project: “What is happiness to you, and how do you pursue it?”
Pupils rotated upward, searching through memories. Eventually, self-awareness crept from dormancy and brightened their faces.
A few remained unmoved, arms crossing their chests like disinterested members of Congress. I worried they wouldn’t even try the assignment and jeopardize their grades.
These eleventh-grade English students had just studied transcendentalism–the belief in a personal relationship with your higher source and the power of the individual to create a tranquil life with minimal attachment to materialism.
“Can you imagine your life without iPhones and Youtube?”
Blank stares.
Some looked incredulous; others scoffed and scrolled their phones.
We read Emerson and Thoreau and discussed the divinity of nature, our innate genius, and our frenetic media culture. Simplifying our lives and removing clutter sounds heretical to a teenager immersed in a social media-saturated world.
But when their project was due, I was delighted by what they produced.
These students are not apathetic about happiness and the simple things in life. They presented photo essays giving a glimpse into their pursuit of happiness. Pictures of families eating birthday cake, grandparents renewing wedding vows, siblings laughing, pets looking curiously into cameras, and flowers blooming in their front yards told their stories.
They recited original poetry and created original paintings, drawings, and sculptures, capturing the effervescence of happiness, its abstractness we sometimes grapple with.
Some opted to write essays. Reading them was like reading love letters to their families, friends, and hobbies.
During their presentations, there was laughter and tears. One student thought she wouldn’t be able to finish reciting her poem about her mother, whom she lost in middle school, but whose memory fills her with happiness. Her classmates supported her, and she finished.
After school, she thanked me for encouraging her to share her poem.
“I feel more confident,” she said.
Happiness is meant to be shared. It grows exponentially when we give it space. The simple things, great things, all things bringing us joy know only the bounds we impose on them.
If we remove the shackles of fear and allow ourselves to experience the depths of joy, we discover there is no need to pursue it because it’s always here waiting. Ready to amuse. Ready to share.
Love and Light,
Ebony
P.S.
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