Sitting in the kitchen just now, with a mug of tea and some toast, listening to the Beatles on the old Bush radio, I feel obscurely happy and at peace. Despite this having been going on for well over a month now, I find these moments of realisation that I am not in pain any more a source of deep joy. Odd, for there is nothing spectacular going on in my life. I’m not in love, I’m still worried about money, job hunting is tedious and stressful, people continue to amaze me with their capacities for laziness and stupidity, but…
…but nothing is wrong. My brain is free from the misery that tortured it daily for such a long time. I can take pleasure in simple things like tea, toast and George Harrison’s vocal harmonies. If freedom is being free of the need to be free, perhaps happiness is being free of the need to be happy?
Happiness
There’s a lot to that. Happiness, to me, is more of a deep and abiding calm. Just like a ray of sun slanting in a window onto the table. It’s different than wild rapture, which is lovely when encountered, but (I suspect) would be tiring on a daily basis.
Happiness is highly subjective, at least in my life- what one perceives that makes them happy today may not do so tomorrow. Was it that beautiful sunrise? interesting book? inane conversation with someone about pidgin language? Hard to say, but you know it when you feel it.
Happiness today is warm sunshine, a white dress and an interesting conversation.
nice insight at the end
(nice blog reformat btw:)