No Happy Place

For the last few days, it's been obvious that then worm of discontent has been eating at my husband.  I finally asked him why.  It wasn't really a Just 10 moment but some days, you have to take what you can get   To my surprise, the truth seemed to fall out of his mouth.  Inside him, the seething volcano of dissatisfaction spewed the lava of truth.  "I want things to be easier.  I want a break.  I want a little happiness."  To that, my own hot spot of dissatisfaction said a silent, "Amen."

After several moments pause, I found the well of my own inner truth gush to the surface.  I said to him, "Happiness is not a place, or a thing.  It's not a commodity or a prize that can be attained.  It is a state of being, Grasshopper."  I added the Grasshopper for a touch of  levity in case my statement was not well received.   I also knew my "Grasshopper" would get the reference to David Caradine's show, Kung Fu.  That bit of TV nostalgia combined with martial arts might make what I had said more easily digested.  I knew I needed to speak in testosterone to be better understood.   I don't know if my metaphorical round house kick met his metaphorical solar plexus but it was worth a try.

So I thought about happiness on my walk this morning. In the last week,  I've run across several references to a book called, The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin.  Apparently, the universe/God (however, you define that which is beyond our knowing)  is trying to tell me something.  I've read a little about Martin Seligman and Authentic Happiness.  I like the idea of Positive Psychology of focusing on coping skills instead of the pathology of mental illness.  I've been thinking about all those things and more.

My thoughts didn't seem to have a connection at first.  I remembered a video I watched yesterday of Elizabeth Gilbert giving a talk on creativity.  You can view the approximately 20 minute video here:


She speaks of the ancient idea of genius, not as something a person is or has but as something that a person allows to flow through them.  It occurred to me that this is also true of happiness.  Maybe, my thoughts which had seemed to be a mental soup filled with flies, wasn't that at all.  Maybe, this was great soup.   I was ready for the main course.

This idea of being a conduit of sorts for creativity for genius, for happiness brings me great comfort, dare I say joy.  It's not something I have to look for or achieve, it's something for which I need only to be ever ready, ever patient and ever welcoming.  How many times had I chased after happiness to only have it escape me?   How many times had I looked for it in all the wrong places?  How many times have I cursed its absence when it was really only waiting for me to prepare the room?

I have confused happiness with things it is not.  It is not the companion of wealth or success.  It not something I can earn or even deserve.  It's not really an emotion.  It's not an end result or a reward.  I can't find it in a place or a person and yet, it is all around us, all the time.  It is a gift to be enjoyed and shared.  All that is required of me is to get out of the way, to open my eyes and recognize my guest, my genius, my own piece of happiness.