I’ve recently had this uncomfortable relationship with happiness.
Not with being happy, but with its metrics. Everywhere, everything, everyone seems to be measuring happiness. Valuating happiness. Making metrics of happy. As if it were something to be measured and planned for and designed. “Are you happy?” people ask when we meet. What are they asking, I wonder. Could their definition be the same as mine, and really, wouldn’t it be more interesting to talk about compliments, or pancakes, or the detail in a particular line, or the view, or that we got a really good cross breeze going in the right way? Small moments. Happiness in motion. And then the conversation could begin.
[H]appiness is not crafted. Happiness emerges.
I finally got around to opening some mail today, and remembered I’d ordered this. While happiness isn’t something to craft or to measure, it can be something to focus on.
