Elusive Discussion of Happiness

Today, I got a surge of self, one of those moments when life seems a little less opaque. I need these flashes to remember that this is my own journey. I have spent nearly a year dealing with my grief. I created this blog as an exploration of my feelings in regards to a sometimes overwhelming sense of loss. A new normal, a psychological term used to describe the reality that introduces itself after one has experienced loss. A phrase that I heard in passing that seemed so applicable to my life when I started this type of writing. I have studied how writing is used as a form of healing. I am fascinated that even the physical act of using your hands, through writing or typing, stimulates areas in the brain that soothe the mind and calm the soul. When I started posting here; I did not understand that I was silently reaching out to a community while wrapped safely in my anonymity. I thought I was just writing. In truth I have been healing parts of myself, making myself whole again. So now, as I experience this wholeness that I have been struggling to find, I find my creative voice becoming more of a whisper, a slight autumn breeze. Why?

I am finding that it is far more revealing for me to offer up my happiness than to discuss aspects of my sadness. I am surprised if not shocked by my trepidation in communicating just how happy I really am. And here I am discussing fear while trying to define happiness. Comical.

Feeling more exposed and a little more raw than I like to admit; I will say the root of my gratitude comes from the realization that life cannot be lived without being a little bit carefree. I feel that there is this instinctual pull to be in control of everything. I think the secret to letting gratitude in is simply escorting some of the control out. Little surprises, quirks, coincidences can be such a source of fullness. In a sense these small serendipitous moments allow for the option to believe that we are not so alone. I am not saying that this is the key to happiness. What I am saying is that it is possible to seek out joy and make it a part of your daily routine, that being whole is a choice. I don’t mean to sound so overly simplistic, but I am surprised to say that it is just that: simple. All of our actions are manifested from choices me make. We as humans have the opportunity to choose how we see our life. Personally, there were years I certainly did not choose life. Those days have been replaced with a more conscious effort to make my life not only worth living but one that was worth saving. Life is cyclical, and I only hope that I remember that I have a choice in all that I do. I will again be faced with great sadness and great joys, these experiences carving out a stronger, more definable sense of self. I have again found myself in a new normal, a normalcy born out of awareness, and appreciation as well as a bit of apprehension. I have written about this before but moments, all moments, good and bad, are fleeting. So as I choose to celebrate this ever-expanding sense of joy I escort in not just the possibility but also the inevitability of it all changing. Changing for the better or the worse, we are not sure, but we can count on the fact that it will all change.

I am writing this while I should be packing for my trip back east tomorrow morning. My 10-week-old niece is scheduled for open-heart surgery on Tuesday. I don’t know what will happen. I am aware of all of the possibilities. I am choosing to focus on the right now. And at this moment, as I glance at the cup of tea in front of me it is so obviously half-full; a small moment of quiet serendipity to reassure me that I am exactly where I am supposed to be. Joyous.