While I do what I do in order to eventually attain happiness, I find myself being happy for apparently the most trifle reasons: my new bike, last evening's ride, A's smiling wave from downstairs, a friend's impending visit, some old memories, an ego-massage (borrowed the term from a conversation last night) from an appreciative remark, a successful culinary experiment or the completion of a pending task. In other words, just about anything makes me happy. A says my happiness is one reason I keep putting on weight. Well...
My happiness is not about complacency; it's not about dropping ambitions. In fact, the new-found calmness has laden my multi-flavoured sundae of ambitions with exotic dry fruits and the juiciest of cherries (I am hungry!). My happy self keeps stress at bay, letting me dream big and do well.
My friends ask me if I am high on something. I think I am, and I am too high to know what it is.
3 comments:
if you don't have to work hard to be happy then life couldn't be any sweeter !!!
:) You are right!
I guess happiness lies in the small things we ignore in our struggle to reach the zenith of happiness. It actually needs no work. The work is for our goals and ambitions, which are also the means to happiness.
happiness must be a drug...and perhaps also contagious. i'm happy for you!
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