What we call the secret of happiness is no more a secret than our

Hear now the words of Leo Buscaglia, the teacher of love and life, whose voice rose like a song against the gray silence of despair: “What we call the secret of happiness is no more a secret than our willingness to choose life.” These words are both gentle and thunderous—a revelation wrapped in simplicity. They tell us that happiness is not hidden in the stars, nor buried in the distant hills, but is born in the moment when we say yes to existence itself. It is not found by accident; it is chosen, deliberately and courageously, in the face of fear, pain, and imperfection.

In an age where many seek the formula for joy, Buscaglia reminds us that there is no secret to be unlocked—only a decision to be made. To choose life is to embrace all that it brings: the light and the shadow, the laughter and the tears. It is to rise each morning and declare, “Still, I will live. Still, I will love.” The ancient ones taught that to live fully is to walk hand in hand with sorrow and beauty alike, knowing that both shape the soul. Happiness is not the absence of suffering, but the presence of willingness—the readiness to engage with life as it is, not as we wish it to be.

Buscaglia, often called the “apostle of love,” spoke these words in a world numbed by apathy. He saw people living behind walls of fear, waiting for happiness as one waits for the rain, forgetting that the sky responds to those who dance before it. His message was clear: life does not owe you joy—you must claim it. To choose life means to open your arms to the unknown, to step forward even when the path trembles beneath you. It means to risk the heart for love, to risk failure for creation, to risk change for growth. The secret of happiness is not found in safety, but in participation.

Consider the story of Helen Keller, born into darkness and silence. The world would have excused her for despair, yet she did not choose bitterness. Guided by the patient love of Anne Sullivan, she chose life with all its mysteries. She learned to speak without voice, to see without sight, to hear through the heart. Her joy was not born of comfort, but of courage—the courage to engage with the world despite its barriers. She once said, “Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.” And in that daring, she found happiness beyond measure. Hers was not a secret—it was a choice.

Many seek happiness in possessions, titles, or fleeting pleasures, and when they do not find it there, they call life cruel. But life, eternal and unyielding, waits patiently for them to awaken. It whispers: “Come, live. Feel deeply. Risk your heart.” For the truth is that happiness does not hide—it stands in plain sight, asking only that we say yes. Those who choose fear over faith, who dwell in resentment instead of gratitude, walk past happiness every day, mistaking it for something else. The secret, as Buscaglia taught, is no secret at all—it is willingness.

To live by this teaching is to take up the sacred work of renewal each dawn. Begin by choosing life in small ways: greet the morning light with gratitude; forgive even when your heart protests; create something beautiful, even if no one sees it. Speak words of kindness when silence would be easier. Seek meaning instead of comfort. And when sorrow comes, do not flee—welcome it as the teacher that deepens your joy. Every choice for love, for courage, for presence, is a choice for life, and every such choice opens the gates of happiness a little wider.

So, my child, remember this truth passed down through the ages: there is no hidden secret of happiness waiting to be discovered in some faraway temple. The temple is within you. The altar is your heart. And the offering is your willingness to live fully—to laugh without restraint, to weep without shame, to give without fear, and to love without condition. Do this, and you will understand what Buscaglia meant. For those who choose life, happiness ceases to be a mystery. It becomes the very breath they breathe, the quiet flame that never dies.