…are the operative words here, I think. I’m not sure what philosophy she ended up adopting, but her life was both great and rather horrifying.
I’ve dealt with both depression and cancer, and my worry, of course, is that both tend to be recurring. About the only tactic I’ve come up with is just to deal with these as best as I can. Maybe I’ll succeed, maybe I won’t - for both afflictions, the worst case outcome is the same.
However, that’s the same outcome all of us will face anyway, so…
Dealing with affliction as well as possible may best be described as adopting an attitude of grace under fire. You may go down anyway, and there’s no shame in that, but you will go down fighting until you no longer have the strength. Human strength has limits, so there’s no shame in coming up against yours either.
I’ve come to the conclusion, however, that the pursuit of happiness is a delusion. The lives of even “normal, healthy” people (whoever they may be) are marked by tragedy and disappointment as well as personal triumphs and comfort: this is part of being alive. A belief in the pursuit of happiness is probably responsible for so many people assuming that unchecked consumption will achieve this goal. (Sufficiency would be a saner goal, and one that should be politically and economically achievable for everyone.)
Happiness, when it does happen, is, well… a happy accident. Perhaps an opportunity arises where you can make a difference, and you stand there grinning - “I done good today!” Perhaps you leave home with a blank mind, and it dawns on you how particularly glorious the day and the surroundings are. That’s the thing: happiness, when it happens, is the last thing on your mind. I think the prerequisite is that you have to be a bit outside of yourself to give it a place to take root.