A friend and I met for drinks last night, and one of the things we talked about — because we’re très cerebral, especially with sangria — was the universal and sometimes elusive search for happiness. Everyone claims to want it, but far too often it feels like catching lightning in a bottle. And maybe we’re a little afraid of it, too. Because what if we find it, and lose it? Or find it and realize we have to change ourselves to keep it? What if we realize that the reason we keep giving ourselves new goals, changing the finish line, is that we’re programmed for the chase and not the win.
Tonight, I’m ending the day feeling like it was a pretty good one. I feel content. And thinking about yesterday’s happy hour conversation, it occurred to me to wonder why. Why are some days better than others? Barring something truly negative happening, why are some compilations of routine hours rosy and others gray?
My happiness list for today:
1) I got up at 6 am and went outside. I took 30 minutes to do my shuffling, wheezing jog. By the time I showered, I felt like I’d already accomplished something.
2) My kids and I got out of the house on time with no threats or raised voices. Everyone found their own hairbrush, two shoes from the same pair and had no opinions about the color of their water bottles.
3) Work went quickly, and included a ten minute afternoon break to walk to our neighborhood Starbucks. I didn’t even get anything. The ten minutes away was a boost in itself.
4) I talked to one of my best friends, who has recently moved away. When we live in the same city, we tend to neglect phone calls in favor of convenient texts and meeting up a couple times a month. It turns out that my phone can be used to talk to people and the connection feels a lot more substantive than a textversation, even when it’s about nothing in particular.
5) I stopped at the store, bought fresh ingredients and made dinner. It involved peeling potatoes and watching my daughter mash them. And it involved butter, which shouldn’t be discounted.
6) Chai. Decaf chai with coconut milk. It tastes like warm zen, especially if I can grab five minutes on the back porch to drink it.
Here’s to ordinary days with rosy hues.