Happiness.
Happiness is one of those states of being that just happens when you are a kid. Happiness in a child is expected, so much so that when a child is unhappy everyone takes notice, like at the checkout line. When a child is unhappy, or cranky, or whining, people notice and the reason is that children are not normally unhappy.
Something is wrong when a child is unhappy.
Somewhere along the path of maturity happiness takes a back seat to prudence. By the time we reach puberty being happy is no longer celebrated or expected behavior. Pensive, brooding, disgusted, affected seem to be the norm at 18. Happiness only shows itself on a select few theater kids or cheerleaders and they are resented for it.
By the time we reach adulthood happiness is found in a bottle or pill or event but very rarely is it a normal part of our day. Happiness is no longer default, it has turned into something that must be attained. Most people you meet in adulthood seem content to keep happiness hidden and compartmentalized away from their “regular” day.
Something is weird when an adult is happy all the time.
Perhaps it is just the circle I run in but most everyone I know is just blah. They aren’t necessarily unhappy, but there is certainly not enough evidence to convict them of being happy.
They’re troubled.
You can see it on their faces. You can read it in their eyes.
Why?
When I watch my daughter run around the house with whatever she can stick on her head carefree and happy it makes me wonder why. Why did I decide that running around the house with whatever I could stick on my head was beneath me? When did I start worrying about what unhappy people thought? When did I start waking up feeling unhappy and why am I content to live without happiness?
Well, I’m not.
From here on out I am going to be happy becuase happy people are fun to be around and I have enough unhappy people around me already.
Go be happy.