Those who are in love with life


Occasionally I run into someone who just loves life: they can’t wait to get up, are nearly always cheerful, and even when things aren’t so great (I am labeling this, not them) they still know things will get better, still love life, and being alive.  They dive into everything. They smile a lot. Most of the time these people don’t have much (I am judging “much” here, and obviously my judgement is just that: my opinion.)

And I long to be that type of person.  Can I learn it?   I have read that happiness set points are inborn.  This means that when I am going through an exceptionally good or bad time, I will return to my status quo eventually.  And I see it: when I went through my divorce I was seriously at an all time low.  So, here I am, five years later.  And guess what?  My happiness level is about the same.  Instead of fussing over my disastrous marriage I have other things to fret about.

Here I am, in my first world problems, I am existing, not living. Each day is pretty much the same. I run my kids here or there. I work. I make dinner. Run errands. Do laundry.  Fuss about money. Fuss about the state of the house. Fuss about needing to get out more. Fuss about my physical issues that keep me from exercising, so I fuss at the scale.  I fuss at my kids grades.

I want to know the secret of those who don’t worry. Those who see the donut and not the hole.  I do this sometimes but usually because I got a raise, or something else good happened and the feeling is short-lived.  I want it ALL THE TIME.  I want to feel lucky that I am here and aging as some die young. Lucky that I have love in my life, a house, a paid for car, healthy kids, beautiful weather, sweet cats, a great job.

I need a happiness mentor.   I have self-help books in a pile by my bed.  Started. Not finished.  I need a quick fix. And there isn’t one.

So I search for it. Every day.  I have a gratitude app on my phone that I don’t keep up with.   I read blogs and posts ad infinitum. But I don’t know how to IMPLEMENT any of it.

What makes me happy?  Riding (can’t), writing, music, reading (escapist novels), laughing…. I am running out of ideas.

The last time I really had fun? Damn. I don’t remember.






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