Real happiness is found within...
To me, these words hold the greatest confusion, words that
never really made any sense. You could attach so many branches to a tree, so
many worldly or spiritual meanings to a citation. All my life I have searched
the answer to finding real happiness. Why does a woman seek solace in shopping?
Why does the play of the cold wind soothe the hot tears on your cheeks on a
winter night? Why does a man in the city seek the peace of countryside? Why does the cobbler dream of making it big
in the city? Can a weary man who rides the rickshaw hope to sit on the back of
one?
Stumbling through the journey of life, we have wanted
different things at different points in our life. To the teenager who grew up
facing the rigors of being thrifty, money was the key to happiness. When the
man had money, he wanted a wife. Then he wanted a car, a bungalow, kids, a trip
to Cape Town….. But lying in a hospital bed at the age of eighty-two, staring
absently at the ceiling fan, he realized all his life he never devoted time to
fulfilling the one big dream that got lost along the way-photography. He
recalls going around clicking pictures of everyone with the toy camera he got
as a present on his tenth birthday. Can he die a happy man? I believe no.
God is a real prankster;
his jokes are soul-threatening. He filled our life with choices and choices,
the mountains and the plains, the hills and the valleys, the oceans and the
ponds, the sky and the sea…. And left us alone to get lost. We want everything.
But we never really stopped to jump down from the express and sit and wonder
and hear what the heart inside had to say. Did it want the ocean or the pond?
The ocean is vast and full of wonders but the pond is familiar and warm. We
want everything but we can’t have everything; and when we can’t have everything
we learn to treasure the things we have. You may quickly cross the river to see
the beautiful peacock dance on the other side of the river. But you may easily
forget the nightingale waiting patiently in your garden for you to return.
Some books fill you with joy, a sunshine that radiates
through your very being. Cause happiness is infectious. Be a child again. Cry
for the things you can’t have, roll on the floor laughing, fight for the things
you love and want, be stubborn, get mad with anger and run after the butterfly
screaming with joy. Cause you only listen to your heart when you are a child.
Real happiness lies within? I guess I’ll know someday….when I have stopped
being an adult.
