I love clover. It’s soft and fresh and springy and vibrantly green and is supposed to yield good luck. And though I don’t believe in luck, I want to believe in it—I want it to be real. But I’m after something far better.
I think most of us are seeking clover. What does the doofus mean by clover? Consider clover a metaphor for happiness, peace, satisfaction, fulfillment, significance, the good life—whatever it is that you find yourself longing for, working for, striving to get your mitts on. It’s something that if only you can grasp and make it yours, you’ll have found paradise.
“Everybody’s looking for something.” ~The Eurythmics
Maybe it’s a zeal to leave your mark on this world, to make a difference. Or a drive to achieve a level of success that will allow you and yours to live happily, to live well, to live with freedom. You know what your clover is—or, at least, that you’re seeking something.
My clover search has been a pursuit of joy. As a child and young adult, my clover was thrill seeking and a kind of fun-love, which was really a longing for happiness and truth and approval—from life, from others, from God. Now I’m looking for more, much more.
Can we all admit that we’re looking for something … more? Now, I know some will say that they have everything they need and couldn’t want anything else in life—a loving family, a good living, a favorite fishing hole, amazing friends, whatever.
Better than Nirvana
To them I say, look deeply beyond the laughter, the paycheck, the shiny car, the beer bubbles or wine tannins—look deeper than whatever you think brings you the most happiness, and see if you can honestly say that you long for nothing.
Now there’s nothing wrong with feeling happy. But I’m talking about joy, and there’s a profound difference between the two. Here it is: happiness is dependent on circumstances; joy comes with inner peace. But that’s another subject and a new post.
Like chasing squirrels
There’s nothing wrong with seeking clover. As Americans, we can’t help but do it. It’s sanctioned by our Constitution: Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. But its seeking transcends country and culture. It’s driven by an innate need, a longing for joy. And it’s not optional; we must seek clover. It’s coded in us like chasing squirrels is in dogs.
So why fight it? Search away. But be careful—you may find the wrong stuff. Most clover lacks staying power. It’s everywhere in Spring, but soon dries up, withers and disappears. It looks fresh and green and supple, but isn’t made to last.
Clover: the skinny
Here’s the straight dope—the clover I’m talking about isn’t monetary or upwardly mobile, and it isn’t measurable with numbers or levels of power or respect or earthly freedom. It’s infinitely more valuable.
After all, what could be more precious than something that’s chock-full of joy? Something brimming with significance and truth and selfless love and peace that’s beyond circumstance and limit.
Let’s face it—we’re all looking for something. I call it clover. You may call it something else. We seek something more because we think it—whatever IT is—will make us happy.
What are you looking for? Some variety of clover? Not sure? I know what you mean. So many species, so much confusion. But consider this—most clover leads to disappointment and regret and, in the end, nothingness.
This series is for those who, whether they know it or not, are actually pursuing Paradise. And they’re doing so in a wonky world. Keep looking. Don’t give up. The search can be an amazing adventure, but it’s also time sensitive. None of us knows how much time we have left to find the real stuff. The clock is ticking. Let’s go.
If this clover idea intrigues you, please comment below. I’d love to hear from you.
5 Replies to “Looking for Clover: Our pursuit of Paradise in a wonky world—the intro”
C.S. Lewis….“If you think of this world as a place simply intended for our happiness, you find it quite intolerable: think of it as a place for training and correction and it’s not so bad.”
Words of wisdom from good ol’ Clive Staples. Thanks.
The comment above is from me, Mikey.