Last night while trying to throw away some magazines I'd collected for six months, I came across an article on happiness. Many surveys had been done to find out how happy Americans really are and what makes them happy.
We are a fickle group. On one survey we say that money is not on the top of our list of what makes us happy, but when asked to choose between winning the lottery, losing down to our perfect weight and keeping it off, or having the best sex possible for the rest of our lives, most of us chose Winning the Lottery. So maybe money is more important that we want to admit.
It is not hard for me to know right now what would make me happy, but it is not possible to bring my best friend back to me. But had you asked me three years ago what makes me happy, I probably would not have mentioned him because he was so much a part of me that I took him for granted just as I take it for granted that my hands will type the words on this keyboard. Be careful what you say when you talk about what it takes to make you happy.
I would not have said that being able to open medicine bottles, jars from the grocery, and being able to read small print would be among the things that would bring me happiness. A few years ago I took those things for granted, also.
In 1995, if I had been asked what makes me happy, I'd have said my move to these mountains where I'd always wanted to live. I might have also said that publishing my writing would make me happy. Happiness has never meant material things, luxurious living, fancy cars and fur coats and diamonds.
Happiness for many people involves their children. My mother said she was always happy because she had her children she loved and enjoyed. She was married to a man she loved and although they had hardships both financially and healthwise, those things did not marr her happiness with her life.
What makes you happy? If you aren't happy with your life, why? What would it take to make you really, truly happy?