Sometimes it feels as if there is no way to actually be “happy.” But lately, as I continue on this journey it strikes me as a poorly worded question.
Is being happy a destination? And if it is, would you be able to stay there forever? Would you even want to? I mean, sometimes it feels good to feel bad. I’ve met people who appear to always be happy, and I’m always left with sense that it’s mostly bullshit.
Instead of thinking as happy as some sort of goal, or destination I prefer to think about it differently as of late.
Happy is:
- creating, writing and thinking
- debating, learning and growing
- embracing the process of writing this blog as often as I can and enjoying the challenge of communicating what’s inside of me
- facing the resistance head on
- meditating every morning and being terrible at it
- seeing a movie and going to dinner with my wife, and talking about our amazing children
But all those things are temporary. They start, and they end. It feels like a cliché, but it may turn out to be true that the journey is the thing. Being happy while struggling is a new way to look at the world for me, and there is something wonderful, poetic and amazing about it.