Happy.
Such a simple word. Such a minefield.
What does being happy even mean? I looked up happiness on
Wikipedia. The definition was listed as “Happiness is a mental or emotional
state of well-being characterized by positive or pleasant emotions ranging from
contentment to intense joy.”
The last conversations I had with my ex were about
happiness. The first happened on the 6th anniversary of our move to
NZ. We’d been separated for almost 3.5 years at that point and he asked me if I
was happy. I thought about sending him a flip “yep” and being done with it. In
the end, I sent him a slightly longer answer of yes and some of the reasons
that I was happy with the life I have. I wouldn’t say that I am living a life
of intense joy, but I am content.
The last conversation was a little angrier (see my previous blog post). His feeling is that every person’s happiness comes at the cost of
someone else. And so he wished me joy in mine knowing that it came at the cost
of his.
That conversation rolls around in my head. First of all, he
has rewritten a lot of history to come to that conclusion and I can understand
wanting to lash out and blame everyone else for your problems instead of taking
responsibility for the choices you make. On the other hand, though, is he
entirely wrong?
I don’t mean that we need some sort of Schadenfreude in
order to be happy. Think about the decisions you make in your life in the
pursuit of your own happiness. Do you always take into account how it will
affect the others around you?
It’s something I’ve been wondering lately. I’ve definitely
made some selfish decisions over the last 4 years. Some of those choices, I’m
not proud of. Others, though, I wouldn’t change at all, even though some people
were hurt as part of the decision. At what point do I admit that (sometimes)
when I snatch some happiness into my life, I’ve grabbed it from somewhere /
someone else?
Of course, I know that some happiness just comes. If it’s a
lovely sunny day and I get a glow of joy from the feeling of the warmth on my
skin, nobody gets hurt from that. What about the choices that do / will / could
hurt others? If I know in advance, does it make me a bad person to take a
little joy where I can find it? What criteria make it less “evil”? These are
the things I ponder.
In the end, perhaps happiness is just an illusion.
Fortunately, I like illusions.
