Okay, so..
I've been debating writing this for a almost a week now, because I wasn't entirely sure whether I wanted to do so in the first place. At times, I thought that I needed to do so or risk my head exploding. Other times, I felt that it was completely unnecessary and a waste of time. I would be lying if I said that right now, I leaned towards one opinion or the other, but since I'm trying to regret as few things as possible, I decided to get this out there instead of wondering whether I should or not.
Last week has been a particularly stressful one; I'd been hurt pretty badly by a person quite close to me, and in the ensuing void created by that person's absence, I've been driven to wonder about a lot of things. Primarily, about the peculiarities of being happy. I am not afraid to admit that being around that person made me happy, and that for the first time in ages, that happiness seemed to be a dynamo that was urging me forward in other fields of life, fields that I did not seem so interested in before.
It was all going so incredibly well, until it ended.
Strangely (or perhaps not so strangely), when that encounter ended, I discovered that I had no desire whatsoever to pursue the things that only a few days before seemed quite approachable and exciting. I did not even have the desire to do the most basic of tasks at work, but realizing that work (quite truly) doesn't give a damn whether you feel like shit or not, I endeavored to undertake and finish those tasks. When the workday ended, all I could think of is how much I needed to be at home, to just lie down and sleep, and wake up to face another monotonous day at work.
I still do not have complete recollection of the entire week, and perhaps that's for the best.
One incident stands out; on the very next day to having ended the short-lived 'affair', so to speak, I woke up feeling not so bad. I was willing to face the day with a brighter disposition and it seemed like everything was going to be just fine. Why did that happen? While on the way to work, I came across a small family; just a father, a mother and their young daughter, taking the little girl to school. The father had a bicycle, upon which he had propped up the little girl, while the mother trailed behind them, carrying the (unquestionably overburdened) schoolbag. What drew my attention is that all three wore the brightest of smiles; it was a carefree expression, one that I hadn't seen in quite some time. It was at that point that I thought "Well, regardless of what their lives might be like, or what it might throw at them, these guys will pull through, they're going to be all right. I don't know them, but I know that they're going to be just fine."
(Sure, I succumbed back to depression a few hours later, but that's besides the point. Carry on.)
That got me thinking about the nature of one's happiness. You see, happiness is a very, very fickle thing. Maybe you base your happiness on being around people, or on possessing money or prestige, and that's not entirely wrong (well, at least with regards to friends, but who am I to judge?), but then when you lose such people (as is people's wont; no one sticks around forever. Another pricey lesson), or money or whatever, you're left with yourself, and most likely you won't be happy about it.
But, so what?
I do not want to turn this post into something along the lines of self-help or any of that crap, but the fact remains that greedy attachment is not the right way to approach happiness. Take me for example; I'm not happy at the moment, because of a great many things, but I do not pay much attention to that fact, because - again - happiness is a fickle, finicky thing. Perhaps the family I saw later had the worst day of their lives, but owing to that genuine smile on their face, I know that they'll spring right back up, because they won't dwell on the happiness lost. I think the lesson I've learned is that you take happiness whenever it comes around; you cherish it, enjoy it, and share it with others, but you do not take it for granted, and you do not think that it would last forever.
Because, at one point, you'll be left by your lonesome again, and you'll wonder where it all went wrong, and what you could've done to make it right. Sure, think about those things, and learn from them, but do not let them deprive you from appreciating the fact that you managed to feel truly happy..
..even if it was for just the few scant hours of a Tuesday morning.
I've been debating writing this for a almost a week now, because I wasn't entirely sure whether I wanted to do so in the first place. At times, I thought that I needed to do so or risk my head exploding. Other times, I felt that it was completely unnecessary and a waste of time. I would be lying if I said that right now, I leaned towards one opinion or the other, but since I'm trying to regret as few things as possible, I decided to get this out there instead of wondering whether I should or not.
Last week has been a particularly stressful one; I'd been hurt pretty badly by a person quite close to me, and in the ensuing void created by that person's absence, I've been driven to wonder about a lot of things. Primarily, about the peculiarities of being happy. I am not afraid to admit that being around that person made me happy, and that for the first time in ages, that happiness seemed to be a dynamo that was urging me forward in other fields of life, fields that I did not seem so interested in before.
It was all going so incredibly well, until it ended.
Strangely (or perhaps not so strangely), when that encounter ended, I discovered that I had no desire whatsoever to pursue the things that only a few days before seemed quite approachable and exciting. I did not even have the desire to do the most basic of tasks at work, but realizing that work (quite truly) doesn't give a damn whether you feel like shit or not, I endeavored to undertake and finish those tasks. When the workday ended, all I could think of is how much I needed to be at home, to just lie down and sleep, and wake up to face another monotonous day at work.
I still do not have complete recollection of the entire week, and perhaps that's for the best.
One incident stands out; on the very next day to having ended the short-lived 'affair', so to speak, I woke up feeling not so bad. I was willing to face the day with a brighter disposition and it seemed like everything was going to be just fine. Why did that happen? While on the way to work, I came across a small family; just a father, a mother and their young daughter, taking the little girl to school. The father had a bicycle, upon which he had propped up the little girl, while the mother trailed behind them, carrying the (unquestionably overburdened) schoolbag. What drew my attention is that all three wore the brightest of smiles; it was a carefree expression, one that I hadn't seen in quite some time. It was at that point that I thought "Well, regardless of what their lives might be like, or what it might throw at them, these guys will pull through, they're going to be all right. I don't know them, but I know that they're going to be just fine."
(Sure, I succumbed back to depression a few hours later, but that's besides the point. Carry on.)
That got me thinking about the nature of one's happiness. You see, happiness is a very, very fickle thing. Maybe you base your happiness on being around people, or on possessing money or prestige, and that's not entirely wrong (well, at least with regards to friends, but who am I to judge?), but then when you lose such people (as is people's wont; no one sticks around forever. Another pricey lesson), or money or whatever, you're left with yourself, and most likely you won't be happy about it.
But, so what?
I do not want to turn this post into something along the lines of self-help or any of that crap, but the fact remains that greedy attachment is not the right way to approach happiness. Take me for example; I'm not happy at the moment, because of a great many things, but I do not pay much attention to that fact, because - again - happiness is a fickle, finicky thing. Perhaps the family I saw later had the worst day of their lives, but owing to that genuine smile on their face, I know that they'll spring right back up, because they won't dwell on the happiness lost. I think the lesson I've learned is that you take happiness whenever it comes around; you cherish it, enjoy it, and share it with others, but you do not take it for granted, and you do not think that it would last forever.
Because, at one point, you'll be left by your lonesome again, and you'll wonder where it all went wrong, and what you could've done to make it right. Sure, think about those things, and learn from them, but do not let them deprive you from appreciating the fact that you managed to feel truly happy..
..even if it was for just the few scant hours of a Tuesday morning.
Although, a bit sad but quite insightful nonetheless. I really enjoyed reading this! :)
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