Monday

I've decided to be happy. That's it. I've decided.

There are choices in life: the high road or the low road; original or sugar free; walk or drive; happy or sad. Sure sure, there are challenges and events that are dissatisfying to us. Sure there are even days that suck. Deciding to be happy doesn't mean I can't be sad sometimes, or angry, or whatever. But it does mean that I'm agreeing that the good outweighs the bad. And even those events or relationships that make me want to tear my hair out have some value. I learn. I grow. I blah blah blah.

It's hard to decide to be happy. Partially because I have a deep suspicion of happy people. Ignorance is bliss, yes? I'm too smart to be happy. And there is the romance of sadness, malaise, discontent, dis-ease, whatever you want to call it. The darkness is so inviting and easy to wrap round oneself. There is company among the miserable. Happiness is loneliness. Or at least the ability to accept the intrinsic connection between life and loneliness. Most of us are fortunate to be only one person within our bodies. Which means that no matter what, no matter how hard we try, we will never ever find someone who totally understands us. Me. I'm really talking about me here.

What to do? I surrender to loneliness. It has to be. I phone my friends. I post messages for no one to read. I listen to music and drink water labelled "love." And I dream dreams of doing 100 push-ups, of walking deserted urban streets with no fear, of being held and protected, of holding and protecting.

This morning, after seeing my Mom onto the bus that would take her to the airport I crossed the street to catch my own connector. As I fumbled with my bus ticket a butterfly launched into the air from my heart. I'm taking it as a good sign: that there is love travelling on unsteady wings out into the world. Not in a bad way: that my heart is abandoning me and flying away. No. It was definitely a good sign. Because I just decided to be happy.