Happiness

Happiness means different things to different people. Exuberance, enthusiasm, light-heartedness, joy, happiness, contentment, peace…may all be the same to one person; completely different experiences to another, and for those like me, they may hang on some sort of a continuum.

All I know is that I want mine to be real. It may be as exuberant as it wants to be or as quiet. Whatever form it may choose to take, I know for sure that I want it to be real. I don’t want to mistake it for a fake smile that covers up boredom or a laugh the covers pain and sadness. When I feel it, I want it to be pure and unadulterated. Even if it only a few times, I would like it to be free from any common ‘markers’ or ‘symbols’ of happiness.

It was hard for me acknowledge that I wanted to commit myself to happiness. All my life I had grown up in the belief that happiness is something that “happens” to me while I’m sitting peacefully or walking down the street. It hits like a beautiful bolt of lightning and spreads a halo of shimmering well being.

And perhaps it did before, even in times that were difficult. Perhaps, fatigue or not feeling well, doesn’t allow for it as easily anymore, and I have to create it more consciously, acknowledge its presence, be willing to receive it, know it is there – right there in front of my eyes.

Yes. I am increasingly beginning to understand that happiness is something we must create for ourselves.  Yes. Not with our two own hands – but with our own mind, perhaps. Staying receptive to it, noticing it, making room for it, allowing it to be a part of your life, believing it is possible for it to be there, that it is its rightful place, allowing it to flourish... Yes. Even a tiny spot of it when the rest looks gloomy can be a wonderful thing. And yes. The best part is that it is probably already there – all we have to do then is to look.