Happiness

I've been thinking lately about what it means to be happy. Because I think that I am happy. And I want to qualify what is making me happy, as if I think that I could put these moments in a bottle and open it up at a later date to recreate this feeling of contentment.

There are things that are stressors in my life but they are by far overshadowed by the things that seem to be going well lately, by the feeling that I am starting to belong somewhere, by the occasional whisper of my psyche saying "yes! yes! life is good!". It has been a long time since I have been happy. Over the last year and a half I have been happier. But the way I feel right now - this is different. And I am scared that it will be fleeting and that I can't make it last. Part of me knows that I just have to enjoy this time for what it is, and believe that things will keep going well for me, that I will be able to handle anything that threatens to mar my happiness, that on days when I struggle there will be people there to help me through.

Part of me feels guilty for being so happy. Because what have I done to deserve this? Why are blessings befalling me while others are having a harder time? And then I think about the hard times (real or imagined) that I have so recently left behind and I convince myself again to just enjoy this time. To revel in the fact that walking through the door of my condo is enough to make me smile, that laughing and smiling in general comes much easier these days.

I think about all I have to look forward to in the next few months and I think that I am happy and I think that I shouldn't analyze how or why or when I should just smile and thank God for these moments.