When have I been the happiest?
I don’t know about a season of being the happiest, but I have very clear moments in my life when I was very happy. Stunningly happy, overwhelmingly happy, aboundingly happy But happiness is fleeting, so those moments passed.
I was happiest for a moment at 15. I was crazy and wild. Nothing could weigh me down. I ran everyday, miles and miles. And I thought I could outrun anything, even darkness. I was lost and found and on the edge of chaos. It was a hard time, but also a good one.
I was happiest living in Peru. Walking the cobblestone streets and saying hello to vendors. Wandering through tents, buying fruit from the open air markets every day, never needing more than one bag of groceries. Salsa dancing until the wee hours, getting dizzy from the altitude, finding new friends and meeting up with old ones.
I was happiest in airports and on airplanes, visiting new cities, walking streets I had never seen, hearing languages I didn’t fully understand, meeting people I wouldn’t otherwise meet. Drinking matte, climbing ruins, lost in thought as I soaked up every strange thing.
I was happiest sitting alone on on a grassy hill in silence with the wind in my hair and the ocean spray on my face. Finding peace in being alone, rediscovering my deep love of reading, of writing. Kissing my knees pulled into my chest and loving myself fully.
I was happiest sitting in warm golden sand, staring out over the eternal blue of the ocean, stretching on for miles and miles. Losing track of time with the sun kissing my shoulders. Crashing waves washing over the beach and my mind.
I was happiest without power in the cold ice and snow, playing canasta with my love. Pregnant and sick, frozen into our house. When all that was before us was hope and nothing mattered but our little world. The newness of a beginning.
I am happiest when all four of our tribe are snuggled in my bed in the morning while I drink a cup of strong coffee. The kids smothering us, constantly moving, never comfortable while we try our best to still hold hands and not spill hot coffee. Before chores, before breakfast, before the break of day.
What I'm finding is that what lasts is contentment. As happiness ebbs and flows, peace remains when you are content. When you accept what you have as enough - not settling, but also not falling into the trap of dissatisfaction. I am happiest when I relax into contentment. And that is my goal this year.
164 Days Until June