To all the people who (seem to) think I am the happiest person alive

To all the people who (seem to) think I am the happiest person alive

I’m not.

What is actually happiness? Is it a sugar candied dream that lasts on and on, is it never being sad again, is it having everything you want, is it travelling far and wide and minimising your responsibilities or is it never leaving the ones you love?

I’m writing this while I’m having one of the suckiest days ever. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the influence of the moon, maybe it’s the load of bread I’ve been eating on an empty stomach this morning which messed up my blood sugar, maybe it’s growing pain of my seeking soul.

I’m just so tired today. It’s six in the afternoon and I haven’t accomplished anything but going to the supermarket and buying said bread. Today was supposed to be a good day, an efficient one. Or at least a successful one. I’d been thinking about how I’m going to need more jobs this month, and today I was going to set out to get them.

I couldn’t.

That took me almost whole day to realise. Instead of accepting that today just wasn’t my day, not for what I had planned anyway, I tried to against the flow and force myself. As if good things can come out of that. As if I didn’t already know that? How come we’re so good at sabotaging ourselves?

No, wait. Of course we don’t think of it like that. What we think about are our goals and our plans that consist of how to get there. Don’t think I’m just a wandering hippie, living in the moment. I mean, I am, but I want stuff too. Of course I want stuff. Everyone wants stuff. If it’s not for something material, like being able to earn enough money to gift yourself something beautiful, then make it about having a purpose. Personally, especially the latter has never before motivated me as much as now.

But how do you know what you want with your life, you ask me? Is that even possible to conceive? Yeah, it actually is. This past year I’ve been taking a lot of time to tune into myself. To listen to me, to find out what I want from the deepest boiling and brewing parts inside of me.

I tried to be still. To not do anything, not even meditate, and see what then arises. I did my best to withstand all these thoughts and emotions that seemed like wanting to overthrow me, as if they were dying to get out after being held back for so many years. Decades. Of course it was going to be messy.

Now, skies have cleared and I have gotten a better sense of what makes me feel good. Funnily enough my preferences follow along seamlessly. I do still like a good movie or series, but I don’t feel like binging anymore or watching something just for the watching, for the distraction. Why would I want to get away from this life I am so passionately crafting? I find that when I like something, like a movie or series, in most cases it will mean it’s inspiring in some way, from a strong female lead to nature honouring cinematography.

Also, I hardly ever drink alcohol anymore. Sure, I can party (with or without) and when you travel in a van you cannot avoid the occasional campfire with new friends and way too many kinds of drinks. But I choose so much more consciously now. I just don’t want my mind to get all blurred, by drinks or entertainment or whatever. I want to stay in tune with myself, to keep feeling what makes me feel good - what makes my soul smile.

Is that being happy? You tell me. But I am also feeling it now, while I’m having a super shitty day and didn’t even give myself exactly what I needed: some time off from self-judgement and comparing myself to others. Time to be okay with how things go right now.

So I guess happiness might not be all that we expect it is. And I don’t know whether I’m always happy or not, or whether I could be happier. I’m trying to be me and that’s good enough.

We got asked some questions

We got asked some questions