…on being happy.

My friend asked if I was happy and I couldn’t answer.

I said I was calm. I said I felt like the sea on a hot afternoon – normal tides, no waves of excitement. 

I’ve felt this way for a bit. As though I needed something in particular to make me happy. 

But there in lies the problem.

I’m good. Life is good. It does look like I’ve moved up the happiness ladder to a point where everything is good for me so what would have made me happy is now normal – there’s so much tranquility. Halcyon, but in the present this time.

And it’s gotten me thinking. If I need sparks to be happy; does this mean I can never really attain happiness? What does it mean to be happy?

I travelled with friends and stayed with extended family for a few weeks in the past month. It was fun. Had really really exciting days, things were surreal, and I just had the best time. In that period, I had a lot of moments where I had highs. Where I felt happy. 

Now I’m back to normal. The quiet sea; occasional sounds of the wind, but no waves. These moments are not exciting but they are content. I am content.

The dictionary defines happiness as showing pleasure or contentment. And defines contentment as a state of happiness or satisfaction. 

I’m content, I’m satisfied, hence I’m happy.

The society has redefined happiness as being ecstatic/excited, and has caused me to think I wasn’t happy. 

I’m still finding it difficult to say and agree that I’m happy but I’ll type it here regardless.

I AM HAPPY… even when I don’t believe it in this moment. Life is good.