Happiness is always a coincidence.

When José Bergamín, the Spanish poet and philosopher, wrote, “Happiness is always a coincidence,” he was not denying the existence of joy, but unveiling its mystery. His words remind us that happiness is not something that can be commanded, manufactured, or earned through logic or labor alone — it is a moment of grace, a sudden harmony between life’s chaos and the soul’s longing. Bergamín, who lived through the turbulence of Spain’s civil war and exile, knew deeply that life seldom obeys our plans. His insight is both tender and tragic: happiness comes not when we chase it, but when our hearts, circumstances, and the mysterious will of the universe align — for a brief, luminous instant — like stars meeting in the dark.

To say that “happiness is a coincidence” is to admit that joy often arrives uninvited, when we are least expecting it. It cannot be trapped, owned, or prolonged. Like sunlight breaking through a storm, it appears in the midst of imperfection — often when life is at its most ordinary or even sorrowful. The ancients understood this well. They did not trust happiness that depended on possessions or praise, for they knew such things were fragile. True happiness, they taught, is born when the heart is open, when one has ceased to demand from life and begun simply to receive it. Thus, coincidence becomes the hand of the divine, arranging life’s moments beyond our comprehension.

Bergamín’s life itself offers the origin of this wisdom. A man of art and rebellion, he witnessed Spain torn apart by violence and ideology. He lost his homeland, his friends, and much of what he loved. Yet even in exile, he continued to write with warmth and humor, finding in small things — the play of light on a page, the laughter of companions — glimpses of happiness that survived despair. He discovered that joy is not the reward of the fortunate, but the gift of those who still dare to feel. In this, Bergamín echoes the wisdom of the mystics: that joy often hides in the cracks of suffering, waiting for the heart that is humble enough to notice it.

History, too, bears witness to this truth. Consider Anne Frank, who, while confined in fear and deprivation, wrote in her diary: “I don’t think of all the misery, but of the beauty that still remains.” Her happiness, fragile yet radiant, was indeed a coincidence — a meeting of faith and tragedy, of hope and confinement. It was not planned nor rational; it simply was. Such moments of unexpected light remind us that happiness is not the absence of pain, but the miracle of peace within it. Those who seek happiness by controlling life will always be disappointed, but those who meet life as it comes — with open hands and an unguarded heart — will find joy scattered like seeds along their path.

In the language of the ancients, Bergamín’s saying might be interpreted as a lesson in detachment and wonder. The Stoics taught that the world is not ours to command, only ours to accept; the mystics taught that joy arises when the soul aligns with the rhythm of creation. Both truths live within Bergamín’s brief line. When he says happiness is a coincidence, he calls us to humility — to remember that joy is not an entitlement, but a mystery. It comes when the heart is ready, not when the mind insists. To live wisely, then, is to prepare the heart for such coincidences — to live attentively, gratefully, and courageously, so that when happiness appears, we are awake enough to receive it.

For in truth, happiness often finds us while we are busy living. It may come in the laughter shared after grief, in a sunset glimpsed after a long day’s toil, in a kind word given or received. It cannot be forced, but it can be invited — through gentleness, through gratitude, through living honestly and without pretense. The one who walks humbly with life, accepting both its shadow and its light, becomes like a vessel in which joy may settle when it chooses. Thus, though happiness is a coincidence, it visits most often those who have made peace with impermanence.

So, my listener, let this teaching rest in your soul: do not chase happiness, but cultivate readiness for it. Do not seek to possess it, for it cannot be owned; instead, let your heart remain open, your spirit steady, and your gaze clear. Live as the farmer does — tilling the soil with patience, never knowing when rain will come, yet trusting that it will. Rejoice in the small, the fleeting, the accidental — for in these moments lies the essence of Bergamín’s truth. Happiness is always a coincidence, yes — but those who live with love and awareness will find that coincidence is not random at all. It is the quiet smile of the universe, meeting a heart prepared to recognize it.