Recently we watched a movie called "Hector and the Search for Happiness" - a surprisingly good movie given that most of what we choose to watch usually ends up being a disappointment. The movie served to remind me that we need to make the most of all of those positive, happy moments that come our way. To appreciate all the good times that go to make up good memories.
If we allow it to, surely happiness can ultimately shape us: who we become, what we think is important, and build our morality and integrity highway? Our tendency is to dwell on the negative, the sad moments, the mistakes, the blights in our life. We need to practice not to be so quick to dismiss the positive, relegating it to some dusty corner of the spare room in our memory house. Instead, those happy memories should be displayed in the comfort of the living room, near the front door, so that we can pass them by and acknowledge them every day.
It's as if we devalue happiness, take it for granted, or dismiss it. And then when we most need it, we have to search for it again. Like a needle in a haystack, it is difficult to find once lost. Shouldn't we guide our life course by concentrating on the happiness that comes our way? Curveballs and obstacles will always surface, wouldn't it be easier to handle the negative stress, and problem-solve successfully if we relied on our stores of happiness?
Children seem to revel in happiness. They expect it, they accept it, and they make the most of it. We seem to lose that innocent talent once we reach adulthood after taking on the mantle of responsibilities, and engaging in the serious business of upward climbs to goals that satisfy our ambitions or views of ourselves.
Just recently I had a brief window in time when I allowed happiness to wrap itself around me - no holds barred, no other thoughts or goals interfering, no worrying about what others are thinking, or what I should be doing instead.
My grandson invited me to be the monster chasing him in his parents king size bed. It was the best of pleasures to hear his uninhibited cries of delight, and his hoots and chortles of laughter as we bounced away on the bed, diving under covers, and throwing pillows in wild abandon. Listening to his pleas for 'More, Nana' and "Do it again, Nana" - his happiness fed mine and I was replenished.
Those are the moments that count, as fleeting as they may be. What a wonderful feeling - unabridged happiness just flowing like warm sunshine into your heart.
Oh, for more of those moments of joy!
