All we could ever ask for in our lifetime is happiness; enough moments to create memories to add into a big book to read at the end; and a family to share it with.
I don’t think I was ever happy like I am now. Yes it’s not perfect, but at least I chased my happy down. I clung onto it, and squeezed every drop from it.
Happiness is a direction, not a place.
Sydney J. Harris
I used to sit on the beach and look at the waves rolling in and out onto the beach; synchronising my breathing with the rhythm of the sea; blocking out all those million-a-mile thoughts that always run through my head. It was my place to find calmness, happiness and quiet – but I haven’t set foot there for more than a year and a half.
Lockdown hasn’t been kind to my million-thoughts-a-second mind either. I haven’t been fully able to organise my thoughts or mourn. I’ve just been existing in that space surrounded by flashes of unquietness.
Sometimes I think if I stay away too long from the sea I’m missing out. I get so tired that I let happiness escape a little bit at a time. It’s like having that sugar fix or bite of chocolate, but just at a much bigger scale.
A place to find happiness quietly
The sea is one of the most magical places. It is both calming and unsettling. It takes, it gives. It is endless.
It’s almost unbelievable to think that I only saw the sea twice in my life by the time I turned 18. Thereafter it’s call just became stronger and I started going more and more. Eventually we used to escape to the sea 3 or 4 times a year. One of those times always coincided with my birthday so I could have a cupcake on the beach. I even took my cat, Genie, to the beach twice.
A time to hold onto happiness
Just like the sea can drag you away from the beach or a pandemic can isolate you from those that you love, so can you be separated from your happiness. It is up to you to claim and guard your own happiness. It is up to you to decide how much happiness you would like to squeeze into your life.
