I'm happy. But it's the kind of happiness one achieves through a gauntlet of tears. An earned happiness. A gift of happiness. These things don't last long, and I think that's the problem many people have. They see good things as deservedly permanent, that once attained it's supposed to stay with them. And then they see it go away and they throw a big fit, like what a small child does when his big brother grabs his toy. And then they become depressed.
I realized some time ago how deeply I feel, whatever I feel. I realized I may not be typical. When I'm happy I'm flying, when I'm sad I explore that sadness as thoroughly as I can until I hit the bottom. Then the only way to go is up. That's how life is.
There's this, too: it took me years to realize that happiness also takes a great amount of courage. It's very easy slip into depression and wallow in self-pity. I've done all that. But it takes work to strive to be happy. That, of course, is only one kind of happiness. But it's the kind that counts, and in a big way. There are other kinds, like tiny little windfall moments (surprise visits from your best friend, a postcard from Italy, a co-worker bringing fresh baked brownies to work on a Monday), and those also come and go. It's a matter of perspective, and of choice.
And my choice is to be happy when I can, to strive for happiness to the best of my ability, and to know when to let go of happiness when it's time, because there will always be a little more around the corner.
