Happiness

What does it mean to 'be happy' and am I?

If asked, I would describe myself as happy, but when I reflect more deeply, I realise I’m not, in fact, experiencing happiness.  I am perhaps content, at ease maybe, but not happy.  Happiness feels like an active emotion needing a substantial amount of energy to achieve, and my state is more passive than that. 

But I don’t believe that the absence of happiness is sadness, or that not being happy means I’m depressed, simply that my state is a sort of neutral.  I find myself enjoying all sorts of pastimes which have me smiling, laughing even. But is that happiness?  I think it is enjoyment, fun, funny.  My weekly social dancing does bring joy and en-joy-ment.  And I may be smiling while it happens but it’s both more complex and fleeting than happiness.

I spend a lot of my time worrying; it’s a family pastime and therefore hard to allow happiness a platform when we’re together.  We’re always watching for the next problem coming, or agonising over the currently unfolding concern. The happiness is shut out – not a crack to sneak in through.  Long ago I identified that I need to find ways to laugh more, to lighten up, to find outlets for myself from the daily grind and endless responsibilities I place upon myself.  I don’t disagree, I still believe this would be valuable, but with all my talk of ‘putting things down’, actually doing it is much, much harder.

I give great advice to others, making practical suggestions on how to effect change for themselves.  “I got this” I scold my mother as she ‘helpfully’ points out that the road I have to U-turn in is too busy.  “I’ll drive, you just relax” I admonish.  Some hope.  My mother is hardwired to be responsible – the eldest daughter always having to look out for her little sister.  What a rotten job.  I’ve been passed that baton, even without a sibling in sight.  Instead of a little sister, my responsibilities - as imagined by my mum - extend to everything, the way the dishwasher is stacked, what our plans are for the day, why I shouldn’t bother myself with marriage, therapy, love.

I’m looking again at how I let happiness in.  I’m not a believer that we should try and be happy all the time, or that we should strive to achieve that state. Nothing busts the mood better than setting out to be happy (cue less than favourable memories of myriad new year eve parties) than trying for something which is so ephemeral.  All too often there seems to be an onus on happiness and how to get it, ignoring the state of being non-happy.  Perhaps, like me, people go around believing they are happy, when in fact they are more neutral than that, nothing to complain about, not actually un-happy.  Taking time to reflect, listen to our quieter voices, blocking out the voices clamouring for us to ‘have fun’.  Maybe this shift in understanding that being not happy is a great way to find the chink in my armour, to prize it open and let the light flood in.