The other day I was talking with a very good friend of mine, and they asked me a question that sort of stopped me in my tracks; mostly due to my answer and the fact even after I have spent a few days thinking it over, I still have the same answer.
The Question - “have you ever felt like you were truly happy?”
My answer was “no”, and it was a bit sobering to hear it. Now, before you think my real world name is Morrissey, allow me to explain that I have indeed experienced happiness. I defiantly have things that make me feel happy, and I am extremely blessed to have people I love and that love me in my life, it just isn’t a state of mind that is sustained. I really don’t want to come off as another disenfranchised gen-x-er in all this, I really don’t feel like I have any unique reason to be unhappy… I actually live a pretty enviable life for the most part.
The Merriam Webster dictionary defines “happy” in the following manner:
Adjective - enjoying or characterized by well-being and contentment
There is an interesting concept – “contentment”, There is an emotion I really haven’t felt; other than on rare occasions. As I think about it now, it may be one of the only things in life I that makes me feel guilty; as screwed up as that is. I really haven’t been able to find the root cause of that; it has just always been there, gnawing away at my resolve, driving my self doubt to new heights. It fuels my defenses; it tells me I am not worthy....And more often than not, I listen.
In all of this thought process in these last days I have done something I generally leave out of my blogs, I actually reached a conclusion, as trite as it sounds… I want to be happy. I want to feel that comfort that comes from being at peace with yourself. I want my skin to “fit". Defiantly lofty goals to be made in a hotel lobby. We shall see where it goes.
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