Malakhov P. - Are We Not Born for Happiness

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Are We Not Born for Happiness?

by Pavel Malakhov
Published in "Modern Theosophical Thought", 2025-1 (19)
Translated from Russian by V. Bazyukin
in Russian: Малахов П.Н. - Мы рождаемся не для счастья


Happiness has been defined in countless ways — some simple, some elaborate, some colloquial, others wrapped in the language of science. Yet one thing never changes: its irresistible attraction. People are drawn to happiness and continually strive for it. That very pull makes it worthwhile to look more deeply into its nature. In this article we will touch on several aspects of happiness, reflect on what it really is, and place these reflections in the broader context of the meaning of our earthly existence — that is, we shall try to understand what role happiness plays in the process of reincarnation.


What Makes Us Be Born?

Not every worldview even raises this question. In some traditions, the purpose of our appearance in this world is traced back to an unknowable source: God, Heaven, or Destiny. In others, it is attributed to an equally unfathomable cause: a blind force or an automatic, soulless law of reproduction, through which forms multiply and consciousness comes into being within them spontaneously. The question of why we are born is inseparably linked with another: who are we? What is our nature? Our constitution? The purpose of our existence?

Theosophy offers a fairly detailed answer to this question, while at the same time affirming that, in essence, the same view can be discerned — though in varying degrees of clarity and completeness — in all the world’s teachings.

Human nature is twofold. We have both an inner and an outer dimension. Incarnation is a temporary state, a periodic manifestation of the eternal inner reality into the temporal outer one — of the formless and boundless into limited forms. The former represents in us the spiritual nature, the latter the material. This, in simplified outline, is our constitution; and such a sketch will be sufficient for addressing the question at hand.

The two natures differ so radically in their qualities that it is impossible, while dwelling in one, to comprehend the other. What is needed is the experience of both states, in all their inner gradations and in varying degrees of intermingling between the two principles. Hence arises the necessity of alternating between these polar conditions, and, as we advance, we gradually deepen our understanding of the distinctive character of each.

It is natural, then, to ask: If our spiritual nature, being in a state of oneness with the whole of existence and unbound by time, knows everything — past as well as future — then surely it must also know all that the embodied state has to offer. Why, then, should we need incarnation at all? Yet, paradoxical as it may sound at first, boundless knowledge has its own limitations, if we look at the concept in a broader sense. As it is expressed in the poem “Infinity”:

“Yet even boundlessness is incomplete,
It seeks a something to make its wholeness meet.
Infinity itself has its limitation—
It cannot grasp the sense of separation.
Possessing all that ever can be known,
It cannot fathom what it means to lack, to be alone.”

A broader sense of “knowledge” is revealed in expressions such as: “You do not know what it means to refuse a piece of bread after months of hunger,” or “You do not know what it means to raise a child alone,” or “You do not know what it means to find a beloved after so many years of searching.” In all such cases, knowledge does not signify information, but lived experience — for experience too is a form of knowing.

As we are taught, the origin of this world rests on a threefold foundation. This means that in studying any phenomenon or concept we must approach it from at least three perspectives. The triad may be revealed in different ways, yet one of its most widely applicable forms is: spirit, matter, and mind. Thus, the spiritual aspect of knowledge — the most abstract and generalizing — may be called information, or theoretical knowledge; the material aspect is experience; and the mental aspect is understanding. All three components are indispensable to complete knowledge, and none can be ignored or substituted for another.

Thus, omniscience in the spiritual state does not mean understanding, but only an unlimited access to information; nor does it provide experience. Experience requires action under specific conditions, and for this it is necessary to step out of the unconditioned state. Understanding requires comparison, and for comparison one must leave the state of unity — for only that which differs can be compared. Consequently, true and complete knowledge is possible only when all three aspects are present. This is what gives rise to the constant circulation of the life-wave through different planes of being, which themselves come into existence in order to provide the necessary diversity of conditions.

But what, then, has all this to do with happiness? The point is that, in order to understand both happiness itself and its role in the process of reincarnation, we must also take into account several different contexts. To begin with, let us look at one of the contemporary scientific approaches to the study of happiness.


Hormones of Happiness

Materialistic thinking is inclined to look at everything “from the bottom up,” from matter to consciousness. In such a worldview, matter is primary; therefore, it seems quite logical that all states of consciousness are regarded as the effects of certain chemical reactions and external causes. We shall not here examine how well this perspective succeeds in explaining the inner world of the human being, but we will limit ourselves to its view of happiness.

Scientists have discovered that in a human being experiencing states of happiness, pleasure, and satisfaction, certain chemical substances are produced, which are popularly, though unofficially, referred to as “happiness hormones.” In scientific language, of course, they bear less descriptive names. With regard to happiness, four hormones are considered especially significant: dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin, and endorphins. Their functions are described as follows:

  • “Dopamine is responsible for motivation, goal-seeking, and the pleasure of achievement. It is the key component of the brain’s reward system. When you complete a project, receive praise, or reach a desired goal, dopamine levels rise.
  • Serotonin influences mood, self-esteem, and the quality of sleep. This neurotransmitter also plays an important role in regulating appetite, memory, and social behavior.
  • Oxytocin is associated with closeness, trust, and social bonds. It is released when we feel emotional or physical warmth — for example, during hugs, interaction with loved ones, or even while spending time with animals.
  • Endorphins are the body’s natural painkillers. They reduce physical pain and emotional discomfort, and can also produce feelings of euphoria after physical exertion or pleasurable activities.”

The foregoing description is taken from an article by an unspecified author, Four Hormones of Happiness (March 4, 2025), published on the website Planeta Zdorovya (Health Planet, planetazdorovo.ru). It corresponds quite well to numerous other sources grounded in a materialistic worldview, including Wikipedia. One may note that — with the exception of the description of oxytocin — the formulations tend to emphasize the primacy of hormones in relation to states of consciousness.

Interestingly, however, the recommendations for increasing the production of these hormones, alongside the more predictable materialistic suggestions of physical activity and diet, also include such factors as gratitude, charity, meditation, and mindfulness. Within that worldview these appear to confuse the causal order, yet such a step toward non-material values and recognition of their influence on our lives can only be welcomed. Indeed, deeper reflection along these lines may eventually enable the sincere seeker of truth to step beyond the limits defined by the senses.

For the present, however, the materialistic outlook finds itself quite at home with statements such as the following from Wikipedia, where we shall italicize the elements that reveal the underlying worldview:

“Dopamine is of great importance for the formation of love, including maternal love. It underlies the feeling of attachment to a partner and marital fidelity.”

“Oxytocin induces a more benevolent disposition toward other people… administration of oxytocin reduces selfishness in men and increases parochial altruism, that is, it strengthens ‘in-group love’ and trust toward ‘one’s own,’ while at the same time not increasing ‘intergroup hatred’ or distrust toward ‘outsiders.’”

From the standpoint of the theosophical worldview, in the statements quoted above cause and effect have been reversed. It is not the release of dopamine into the bloodstream that generates love or ensures marital fidelity; rather, it is the capacity to manifest love and fidelity that finds its reflection in physiological processes, activating the relevant glands and producing the corresponding chemical reactions.

In the same way, the reduction of selfishness and the increase of altruism through the administration of a hormone would more accurately be attributed to an intoxicating effect — that is, a temporary dulling of awareness and a detachment from reality — rather than to that transformation of consciousness which allows a clearer perception of reality and a deeper understanding of what is taking place. Artificially introduced hormones can only bring about a temporary shift in consciousness and attitude toward the world. Once they are absorbed, broken down, and disappear, the “heightened altruism” also vanishes; the person reverts to his or her true level of selfishness, inherent to the present stage of development. Does not the fleeting action of hormones thus point to their secondary character in relation to consciousness?

Of course, the scientific world is broad and varied, and within it many schools and approaches exist, often competing with one another. There are also less materialistic perspectives, and even representatives of different religious traditions — and hence thoroughly non-materialistic views. It is clear, therefore, that not all scientists would agree to regard hormones as the source of happiness. Yet such an opinion does exist, and it is widespread enough to merit consideration.


The Philosophy of Happiness

The philosophical view of happiness belongs to a sphere beyond chemistry and physiology. A very different perspective on it is found in romantic literature, and indeed across literary movements of every kind. A well-known example is the opening line of Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy:

“All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”

Here Tolstoy attributes to happiness the quality of unity, while its opposite, unhappiness, is marked by separation and estrangement. In this sense, happiness is seen as a spiritual category — one of union and belonging — which pertains to subtle and unseen realities.

Likewise, the Great Explanatory Dictionary of the Russian Language defines happiness in a distinctly philosophical way, without any reference to processes on the physical plane:

“(1) A state of the highest satisfaction with life, a feeling of deep contentment and joy experienced by someone; the outward manifestation of this feeling. (2) Success, good fortune. (3) Lot, fate, destiny.”

Of course, philosophy, like science, takes many forms. “After us, the flood,” or “Take everything you can from life,” — these too are philosophies of life, and rather common ones. Yet such judgments arise from ignorance. This egoistic stance considers only one’s own interests, desires, and sensations, without regard for the universal web of interconnection and mutual influence — a disregard that will inevitably bring consequences, often sooner than expected. The fact that egoists may be perfectly aware of the law of karma and of inevitable retribution does not alter their state of ignorance, for their knowledge is incomplete. As we have already noted, information alone is not enough to dispel ignorance; one must also gain understanding and experience.

It seems that in Russian the distinction between degrees of knowledge is reflected in a separate word, vedat’, meaning a deeper or more complete kind of knowing[1]. The saying “You know not what you do” points precisely to such incompleteness of knowledge. A person who acts rashly or shortsightedly may be well informed, but without insight into the situation and its possible consequences. Such a person may act on what seems a reasonable basis, yet still without wisdom. In other words, one may be knowledgeable yet uncomprehending, clever yet unwise, resourceful yet lacking in true discernment. The mind is dual, with both higher and lower modes of activity and expression.

The reflections above on knowledge and mind are not as far removed from the subject of happiness as they may at first appear. Their connection will become clearer as we proceed. For the moment, let us note that the universal laws of duality and triadicity apply also to the idea of happiness. It too has both an inner, deeper meaning and an outer expression, and it must likewise be considered in three contexts.

On the spiritual level, happiness arises through experiences of union: meeting or being with loved ones, entering a contemplative state (a union or merging with what is observed), recalling cherished memories, or simply thinking of those dear to us.

On the level of mind, happiness may be felt in moments of illumination — when a sudden insight dawns, when we grasp the meaning of something or someone, when understanding breaks through in a flash of realization.

On the material level, happiness is often associated with idleness and separateness. Some people regard it as happiness to be alone, to see no one. Yet this specific form of happiness reflects weariness with the imperfections of one’s surroundings. In the same context — though in the opposite situation — someone may feel happiness in escaping from solitude (the “four walls,” isolation, and the like). In this case, however, the weariness is with one’s own imperfection and incompleteness: the sense that one’s existence must be supplemented by external factors — people, events, impressions. Both situations belong to the same context: that of separateness, or egoism.

Such a state of isolation cannot be self-sufficient for long periods, though it may satisfy for short ones. Eventually there comes — if not clear understanding, then at least a felt awareness — that to be separate is to be partial, cut off from the whole, and therefore incomplete. This awareness grows burdensome, awakening a longing for something greater. Consciousness in its essence has a spiritual nature, which is whole and one with all beings. Hence consciousness is drawn toward unity and wholeness. Its isolation and separateness are always temporary. Here lies the reason for the search for happiness, for — as already noted — happiness belongs to those unifying states of being, those experiences that are linked with the perception of oneness.

Another philosophical view of happiness is conveyed in the proverb: “Every cloud has a silver lining.” This expresses the idea of learning through destiny, which presents us with opportunities in the guise of difficulties. Such happiness — coming unbidden and impossible to avoid — is a manifestation of the law of karma. Because it is unforeseen and unexpected, it calls for a search into, and an understanding of, its source.

At this point it is important to avoid a possible misunderstanding: namely, that everything in life must be reduced to reason, that the sole aim of evolution is to interpret, classify, and arrange, that the chain of cause and effect must always be uncovered, grasped, and clearly formulated. The reflections offered earlier in this article should help guard against such a conclusion and remind us that these things must indeed be done — but they are not enough. Without ordering and understanding causes and effects, there is no completeness. And this means that it is not enough simply to be happy, not enough merely to feel happiness; it must also be understood. Otherwise those who attained happiness in life would cease to reincarnate. Yet we are told this is not the case. We ourselves may have known happiness many times in our past lives, and yet here we are again, embodied once more. Even in our present life we have surely known moments of happiness, and at the same time we see how far from perfect we still are, how much work lies before us.

All this shows that happiness cannot be the purpose of incarnation. If incarnation does not end with the attainment of happiness, then another purpose must exist. Philosophy helps us to discover it, for it is a striving toward truth and a deeper understanding of the world.


Happiness Is A Feeling

The following statement is not offered as a definition of happiness, but as a reflection on its nature. Happiness appears to be consciousness’s positive response to certain circumstances, and while consciousness responds, the mind remains inactive. This is true even of the happiness that comes from gaining knowledge. For a while, analysis of reality disappears. For the one who experiences happiness, there is no need to interpret or explain, because happiness belongs to another side of being — unconscious, unconceived, and inconceivable by the mind, for it pertains to the sensuous rather than the mental nature.

Sensuous experience is as necessary for evolution as the mental, for it offers food for thought. It conveys to the mind impressions of the subtle bonds between our self and the outer[2] world. Awareness unfolds gradually, and this is true of the physical senses no less than of the spiritual. The sensuous nature itself reflects the dual structure of the world, and it too may be higher or lower. Each of these again divides into two categories: that which is directly linked with the mind and depends on it, and that which exists independently of the mind. Wherever the mind participates, a further bifurcation[3] takes place. Let us first describe these distinctions in order to grasp their essence, and then briefly summarize them with examples.

The highest feelings are of a buddhic nature, transcending the mental, for they vibrate at a higher (or swifter) frequency. The mind is simply unable to function at this level. For this reason, the origin of such feelings cannot be rationally traced or explained, except in the broadest theoretical outline and as conjecture, never as a precise understanding of each particular manifestation. Such feelings often stand in contradiction to common sense and appear impractical (in terms of utility or expediency in a given situation), yet they are of a lofty moral character — or, as in the case of intuition, the instantaneous perception of truth.

The second category of higher feelings is already interwoven with the mental principle. Their arising can be explained, understood, and even anticipated. This category also includes feelings connected with the apprehension of the laws of nature — insights, flashes of understanding, and illuminations of various kinds. Intuition, too, falls into this category, but only when it leads to comprehension; when we act intuitively without knowing why a given course is more true or more proper, such intuition is buddhic.

The two categories just described belong to our higher and immortal nature. They are complemented by two further categories that encompass the wide range of feelings bound up with the lower self and the organs of sense.

Personal feelings and sensations arise from the activity of our lower self. This too has two aspects: selfhood and reasoning mind. In the first case, we find the various selfish feelings born of perceiving oneself as a separate, unique, significant, and self-sufficient being; here also belong the emotions in general. In the second case, we encounter bare intellect or cold reason, which observes, compares, and evaluates the information received without being drawn into emotion. Both aspects combine within the same personality, though in differing proportions and degrees of expression at different times.

The lowest and simplest are the sensory feelings, which merely transmit to the mind the data supplied by the organs of sense.

Let us now briefly summarize what has been said about the two categories, the four main kinds, and the six subdivisions of feelings.

Higher (spiritual) feelings:

  • Buddhic (non-rational): love, grace, happiness, compassion, intuition (unconscious);
  • Mental (conscious and explainable):
  1. arising from the sense of unity: brotherhood, solidarity, team spirit, tact, appropriateness;
  2. cognitive: insight, illumination, intuition (when it leads to understanding), the sense of proportion.

Lower (material) feelings:

  • Personal:
  1. self-centered: thirst for power, anger, irritation, envy, arrogance, superiority, pleasure, enjoyment, satiety, and the like;
  2. rational — assessment of impressions from the senses: like–dislike, tasty–not tasty, pleasant–disgusting, quiet–loud, warm–cold, cozy–uncomfortable, and so forth.
  • Sensory — immediate information from the organs of sense without evaluation: temperature, humidity, brightness, color, sound, taste, and so on.

The above three levels in the classification of feelings, in accordance with the law of duality, describe our multi-layered sensuous nature with sufficient completeness and indicate the specific plane to which happiness belongs.

Importantly, since happiness pertains to the sensuous nature, it is passive and belongs to the material order of being, whose role is to serve as vehicle, sheath, and medium of development. Happiness therefore cannot be the cause of incarnation or of evolution itself; it is an accompanying phenomenon, like any other feeling. It is informative; it provides its own kind of experience, useful and even necessary for integral growth. Yet evolution consists in the stable transformations that affect consciousness, while passing states serve only an auxiliary, educational function.

Exalted states such as happiness, bliss, and grace may be compared to siddhis — the phenomenal powers or extraordinary faculties that arise naturally in the course of spiritual development. With the right motivation, siddhis should never be sought as ends in themselves, even though they appear inevitably and become part of the individual, integrated into one’s skills and capacities. In the same way, happiness begins to accompany a person unfailingly once a certain stage of development has been reached, regardless of the hardships of external circumstances. Just as the mastery of the law of gravitation at a certain stage of understanding makes flight possible, so too the realization of the law of unity at a certain stage of growth brings the abiding experience of happiness.


Understanding as the Source of Purpose and Meaning

From a practical point of view, the reflections above justify the appeal not to chase after happiness. If we make it the goal of life or strive to attain it, disappointment is inevitable; for even if we succeed, it will be only a temporary state. Perfect happiness is possible only in complete union — in other words, in immersion in nirvana — and this, in turn, can be attained only upon the completion of the human journey. That journey continues until a person has reached the fullest degree of understanding attainable for the individual of the structure of the world and of one’s role within it. In other words, it is the level of understanding that determines how near or far one is from the end of the path.

If we look to the root, the cause of the law of reincarnation — the reason for our departure from the “house of the heavenly Father,” that pure spiritual state which is the eternal source of all conditions of our being, including happiness — is neither spiritual nor material, but rational. The spiritual principle pervades all existence without distinction as to events, beings, or processes; it equally permeates and sustains the happy and the unhappy, the embodied and the disembodied. The material principle is passive in its very essence, which means it initiates no processes and therefore cannot be the cause either of reincarnation or of happiness. It is the rational principle that disturbs equilibrium in any system, sets processes in motion, and compels all things to change in order that, through comparison, knowledge may be gained. Hence the cause of all suffering — as well as of all joy — is ignorance, that is, the incompleteness of knowledge. By tasting (through experience) and assimilating (through understanding) the many sides of life, we are freed from ignorance and return to the spiritual domain of omniscience, already all-knowing, where the experience of happiness — in the spiritual sense of union with all and everything — becomes constant and unbroken, at least until the end of this world.

In conclusion, it may be said once again, from a practical point of view, that it does not matter whether we are born for happiness or for something else, whether we consciously perceive this state or not, whether we reflect on its nature or simply follow the flow of events and circumstances. In every case happiness discloses our higher nature; it points to its presence and to the possibility of its manifestation. And since every contact with that higher nature makes us increasingly receptive to it — raising us up and moving us forward on the path of self-perfection — then each time it becomes possible…

MAY YOU BE HAPPY!


Footnotes


  1. The Russian verb vedat’ (ведать) is an older and more elevated term for “to know,” suggesting deeper insight or wisdom. It survives in expressions such as “ne vedaesh’ chto tvorish’” (“you know not what you do”) (Transl.).
  2. “Outer” (or external) in relation to the ego itself. In this sense, “external” designates all that is not identified with the ego, including subtle spiritual phenomena which in other contexts may be termed “internal,” in order to stress their unmanifest or subjective dimension.
  3. In principle, concepts can be subdivided, grouped, and arranged still further until each finds its place within the smallest subdivision of duality — a pair of opposites. Yet such detail is unnecessary here, for it would only distract from the main theme.