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We all go in search of it, yet it seems like it escapes more and more people. Happiness. It seems like everyone I speak to these days is lacking happiness. How is that possible? These are successful, healthy people with homes, cars and jobs. Shouldn’t they be happy? Shouldn’t they at the very least be content? With life, with their homes, with their jobs? But what does happy mean? What does it mean to us, the people who, let’s be honest, don’t really have much we should be complaining about. I have been trying to figure out the answer to that question for some time now. At first I thought that happiness was in my job title, but no. Okay, perhaps happiness could be found in another country? Nope. Missed again. In fact, misery found me there (with speckles of hope and sunshine if I had to tell the whole truth). What I’m beginning to realize more and more (and I can’t help to admit that I think I’ve known this the whole time), is that happiness, this illusive thing we call “happy”, is inside us. To each his own, as they say. Can I tell you what happiness is? No. Which might mean that having read this post was kind of a waste of time on your part. However, if I can say anything, with complete faith and hope, it is that only you know what happy means. No one can tell you. No one can give you the answer. We can only inspire each other to search for the answer…what does happy mean to you?
This is my Life of Happy. I will chronicle my search for happiness with daily posts. Some short and sweet, some long and boring. I’m tired of complaining and feeling lost in this big, bad world. Time to make it a year, and a life, of happy.
A Life of Happy 