Happiness: it’s a simple concept.
However, being happy is easier said than done.
There’s some great stuff on the topic, and I’ve encountered plenty of it.
Maybe it’s because I’m a balance-finicky Libra.
Perhaps I’m just too much of a rebel to accept the simple and flowery advice of the rich and bubbly women on TV.
Or, maybe I need a little more therapy to sort through that mucky past I thought I had behind me.
Whatever the reason, I crave a raw and real outlook on the everyday joy that I can actually practice and believe in.
This is my approach to happiness…
I rode the trendy wave of sugar-coated optimism and gratitude, and I’ve seen that it’s both effective and a load of baloney.
Yes, it shifts my mindset into something far more productive, but sticking flowers in a turd doesn’t make it a vase.
Crap is crap!
Sometimes life hurts, and it drives us absolutely crazy.
And you know what?
People everywhere would tell us that we should cover up these “negative” feelings with more “positive” ones, but that’s actually one of the worst things we could do.
Our emotions are messages that cue us into the reality of our situations.
We need to be able to listen to them to understand exactly what the problem is and how we can address it.
Taking ownership of our feelings, especially the “bad” ones, allows us to be true to ourselves and everyone around us.
That leads to some seriously empowering changes, and there’s nothing “bad” about that.
Death to Optimism
I know firsthand that an optimistic outlook is the secret to success in anything and everything, but there’s much more to it than looking for the positive.
Desperately looking for something to appreciate in a crappy situation is like a celebrity selling out with a deodorant commercial.
Yes, it’s understandable, but it’s kinda pathetic.
Developing true optimism requires realizing our feelings and why we have them.
Overlooking painful truths and stuffing down frustrations don’t lead to a truly optimistic way of life.
Optimism and faith aren’t emergency survival tools to be triggered by inconvenience, trendy beliefs, or Facebook quotes.
True optimism is a state of being.
It’s not what we do but what we are.
If we can see where everything we’ve experienced has benefits and a purpose, then “bad” suddenly has a whole new feel and meaning.
Happiness in Roles
First, I believed I was supposed to be happy as a mother.
Then I believed I needed to be happy as an individual.
Now I’m seeing a serious need for a balance between both.
Thanks to my African husband, I’ve seen the beauty of happiness, generosity, and relationships.
His culture revolves around everyone being happy and having fun, and every event becomes a social affair of celebration (even funerals serve as community parties!).
Relationships are everything; women are the stainless steel backbone that keeps everyone together through food, support, and beaming smiles.
It’s a pretty drastic contrast to my experience with family and relationships.
I grew up with a dependent mother who hoarded herself in her room with the latest boyfriend, alcohol, and treats, or (on the worst days) her sad and desperate self.
Our only “social events” happened on Christmas – a day marked by a brief gathering on the living room floor where we were handed out gifts wrapped in plastic shopping bags.
Simply put, my view of family and relationships was the opposite of my husband’s.
Getting started with happiness
Initially, I couldn’t understand all of his expectations and ideas on things.
I spent a lot of time pulling out my hair in frustrated confusion and even more time sobbing into pillows and laundry piles for not being a better woman.
I knew my past had me falling short on things, but I didn’t know what connection was off.
Then it finally hit me.
I had grown up seeing my mother always and only doing what made her happy.
Happy, as in brief moments of satisfaction.
I, too, came to equate happiness and contentment with sneaking away to “escape” with shopping, drinking, or simply being alone.
I saw “happiness” as living for myself.
Yet, no matter what I did, there was still that dull and hollow empty space within me.
It became clear to me that while I still had reservations about the “cause and effect” of certain African beliefs and values, I had to try another way.
So, I studied their methods and how they went about them (mostly with smiles, laughter, and genuine care) and put them to work.
That was when I discovered the incredible pleasure of cooking a meal with excitement rather than out of obligation.
The fun in getting up off my butt to play with my son rather than laying on the couch in exhaustion.
Any and every task could be transformed into a cherished duty that served my family and friends.
And by enriching their lives, I, in fact, gave myself the deepest sense of satisfaction and fulfillment that I could have ever imagined.
As a feminist, I had been closed off to this idea for a long time.
Now I have no choice but to admit that my role as a woman makes me happy.
Be Happy For Real
It has to be real, and it has to be felt.
Sometimes I have to fake it to make it, but that’s because I get my head up my butt and still have a few things I need to learn.
I’ll constantly be challenged by life, which makes happiness so beautiful.
It’s completely dependent upon me and how much effort I’m willing to put into it.
My happiness depends not upon what I get from life but upon what I’m willing to give to it.
No matter what happens to me, I can be happy and happy no matter what happens to me.
The late and great Wayne W. Dyer said it best.
“There is no way to happiness.
Happiness is the way.”