Hang on to Your Happiness

When happiness slips out of our grip, people reach for desperate fixes. Addiction. Violence. Suicide. The kind of hate that gets shouted at strangers. These are what fill the space where contentment used to sit.

Think back to the uncomplicated joy of being a child. Where did it go? Can you remember the last time you felt that full, uncovered kind of happy as a grown person?

Adulthood has a way of turning gray and heavy. If a kid saw what waited on the other side, you have to wonder why any of them would be in a hurry to get there.

There's an odd economy at work: far more effort and cash goes into manufacturing our unhappiness than ever goes into building us up. Jealousy, envy, a nagging sense of not having enough, greed, dread, a general gloom. The media produces these feelings daily, by the barrelful. Why does bad news have to be hammered into us on repeat? And then the advertising arrives, selling us happiness we can supposedly buy or swallow, usually in the form of food or drink that does us no favors.

Being happy for no particular reason has become strangely difficult for people. Shouldn't a settled, decent mood be the baseline, the thing you return to unless something genuinely rotten happens? And even when something rotten does happen, why hand the whole rest of your day over to it. I broke a nail yesterday wrestling with an automatic teller machine that refused to cooperate. That is not a reason to be miserable until bedtime. Someone says something that stings, fine; the question is whether you can find your way back to how you felt five minutes before they opened their mouth. Keep in mind that certain people would rather manufacture problems than fix them. You are under no obligation to let them run your afternoon.

None of this means ignoring real life. Handle your needs, meet your responsibilities, do what the day actually requires of you. But worry stacked on top of that gets you nowhere. Don't worry. Be happy.

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