1. are you happy?
I’m not sure if it’s just a problem of language translation - a product of the british english getting misconfigured when those men discussed american soil. But I often wonder about our obsession with being “happy” and why “happy” seems to be at the top of the pyramid when emotions get split in between positive + negative, light + dark, “good” and “bad”.
It should be “love” at the top but for reasons we’ll never be able to unravel completely... human civilization wrote “love” down at the top of both postive + negative, light + dark and “good” and “bad” lists. It was the end all, be all - for every shade of feeling. And so when considering which emotion is the top for each of the lists, we have to look at the second one. All the loves cancelled each other out, unfortunately.
So how did we get to happy when there are so many other, more beauiful words and ways to describe a positive feeling that aren’t the word ‘happy’ ?
Like being grateful.
Or being joyous.
Or being pleased.
Or being fortunate.
Or being at peace.
Or being safe.
We’re so quick to consider our happiness levels but what about the feelings that make us feel comfortable within ourselves while we’re spending time on a foreign planet with each other.
Are you happy? I’ve never been able to answer that with a yes or no. Yet that seems to be what people are looking for when they ask it. They seem disappointed when I begin to respond with “well...”
As if the absence of an immediate yes would imply an honest no.
And maybe my problem isn’t with the word. Maybe the measurement of happiness isn’t my problem. Maybe my real issue is with the concept of the question.
How could my life ever be graded based off of one feeling alone?
When I experience anywhere from one thousand to twenty billion emotions on any given day. There has not been one single day during my stay on this planet where I have woken up with the same exact emotion as I go to bed with. I’m changing all the time. I’m learning and processing as I go.
This morning’s discomfort may be what leads to my happiness tomorrow. Maybe getting up and pushing through my ten minute ab workout will be the reason I flirt with myself at noon, looking in the mirror at my only slightly chiseled but gorgeous abs. Maybe the anger I’m funneling into the exercise is what will make me strong enough to see the beauty that’s on its way to me.
And so I beg you, the next time someone asks you “are you happy” instead of saying yes, no, or maybe so, look them dead in the eye tell them to shut the fuck up.