happy birfday

to you, to you, to you, to you ™

 

the other day i broke down and told my parents that i didnt believe in happiness, that i was never calm, assured or relaxed. i told them that maybe twice a year or less do i feel a sense of stillness, place or contentment, that otherwise i am nervous, anxious, neurotic and possibly brooding, that though i feel the life force coursing through my veins, see the work of energy in nature and in human endeavour, though i rejoice at the gifts bestowed upon me, the resource, the privillage, i do not know what it means to be at peace.

i looked at them longingly, i stared into their eyes – mother, father, those who made me – and waited for reassurance, to be told, ’sweetie, don’t say such silly things. don’t be crazy, it’s okay sweetie, there is happiness. you are happy. all the time. every thing’s going to be alright.’ and instead, they had something else in store. my father laughed and said, ‘he’s definitely our son’, while my mother chortelled, ‘you better get used to it…’ but i knew it anyway, the way life is, that is the way my family is, the way i am.

happiness, where are you? i’ve stopped looking for you. and i feel alright.