Happiness

photo by Ume Kayo

Happiness occurs when I least expect it. It comes from moments of deep appreciation that someone else might not notice. Birds swooping past power lines against an orange morning after a night of karaoke, or a smile from a stranger in a funny hat. I don't have to go to the Grand Canyon or Niagara Falls and stand in front of vast and majestic wonders to appreciate life, and be happy.

I can have hot tea and biscuits, use inky pens on recycled paper and feel the softness of my grandmothers cheeks. I could dip my hand in uncooked rice, practice whistling or make a mix tape. I can smell the crispy bendy pages of my favourite magazines or write an anonymous note of encouragement to a stranger. I can strive for happiness in unexpected moments and endeavor to never ever let my day be mundane, instead, a little bit spectacular.

I love books like Into the Wild and The Diving Bell and the Butterfly. Protagonists who search deep within themselves to find answers to questions that have riddled them for years. It's a great thing to explore this big wide world and ask 'what is all of this?' all the while holding tightly to your ability to imagine and experience awe. This doesn't mean you have to have lots of money to travel all around the world, just explore further than your front gate, your street, your suburb. And at very worse, if you can't leave, step into your imagination.

What if you have no imagination? What if, horror of horrors, you lost it some time ago when you were departing childhood in eager anticipation of the freedoms of adult life? Then read a children's book, go for walks in unexplored locations, sit alone with pen and paper and see what happens.

No one thinks like you. No one will ever produce what ends up on that piece of paper. We all see the world so differently. If your imagination has deserted you it will come back, because it never wanted to leave in the first place.