happiness

So I've been doing a lot of thinking about "happiness."

I'd venture to say that the word pops into my thoughts at least 20 times a day.

"Why am I not happy? I'm so tired, but if I had more energy, I'd be so happy. Aghh! I just need to lose 6 pounds, then I'd be happy. I need a day off! If I worked less hours, then I'd be much happier. My skin is bad. If I had beautiful skin, then I'd be happy! Look at my tiny apartment! If I had more space, then I'd be happy. If I'd only have gotten all of those presents done at the studio, I'd make other people happy."

I spend all this time, or WASTE all this time, thinking about how I COULD be happy in other circumstances, or how I wish I made other people happier.

But what does happy mean? The concept looms outside of reality, like a giant fluffy cloud of dreams, sparkling, glittering, promising of all things possible... but the problem is that the cloud is always floating out of reach.

Of course this discussion is nothing new, but despite the recurrence of the topic, I still flounder at the mercy of it - remain tethered to it, weighed down by it, crushed by it even.

When will I stop, in the moment, and BE happiness? This seems to happen mostly in the summer time, in the mountains, when I'm standing on a hillside, breathing in the mountain fresh air, looking out at the expanse of earth below me.

But unless I plan on living in the wilderness, I have to discover happiness in my every day mundane experience. A life without happiness - joy - is no life at all.

I'm not sure if it's an emotion, a feeling, a chemical balance, or an intellectual understanding.

But no matter what you call it - Peace, Joy, or Happiness - I have got to find it more often, in the present, in my life - now - today.

I am confident that it's not that difficult. I will live life fully inside each moment, absorbing my world, appreciating each experience.

Or I shall die trying.