“Happiness is a journey, not a destination.”
This is the message on a birthday card from my
daughter, and I’m glad I opened it a day early. She left it here at the end of
the Thanksgiving weekend, along with a softly-scented candle packaged in a
pretty box, on the dresser in her bedroom. Of course, I found it while I was
tidying up, but I left it there, untouched. I’m pretty good at waiting until
The Day, because anticipation is half the fun, you know. But this time I broke
my own rule; today I treated myself to her birthday-eve gift.
I love the candle, but I think the card is going to
burn longer, as I think about its message and how it applies to me.
Only yesterday I was thinking about the different
stages in a woman’s life and how each one offers a different sort of happiness.
The simple, innocent happiness of childhood is so pure and uncomplicated. All
too soon it is replaced by the growing awareness in adolescence that life
really is not all that simple. Still, the happiness that one experiences in
that topsy-turvy, turbulent time of life is so intense and sharp that it
can take your breath away – a first taste of love, a first taste of freedom, a
sense of standing on the brink of life with the whole world at your feet – all the
accompanying disappointments, inadequacies and fears aren’t enough to dull
those brilliant glimpses of a future filled with promise.
How does it happen so quickly? You wake up one
morning and find that your life has become almost unrecognizable, turned into a
virtual whirlwind. Instead of a vast future unfolding before you, now all you
can do is try to hang on in the spin. With a husband, a family, a community and
perhaps a job, each making incredible demands upon you, it is hard to slow the
spin down long enough to savor the moments. Perhaps it comes late at night,
when all the house is sleeping, and you are still awake. Your children in a
happy dreamland of their own, your husband’s sleeping brow finally relaxed and
untroubled by the cares of his own responsibilities, your home quiet and calm
for the first time all day – and you realize your happiness is drawn from
theirs. Shh, don’t wake anyone up!
Before long, though, there comes a time when you can
take a deep breath, look up from your busyness, and it gradually dawns on you
that the whirlwind has begun to slow. You look at your children with eyes that
seem suddenly cleared of fog, and you realize that they are adults, perhaps
with families of their own now. When did it happen? And what is this new
feeling you are experiencing? It’s a new kind of happiness, born of feelings of
accomplishment, of satisfaction, of a job well done – well, mostly. There are challenges
in those new families you’ve spawned; but for the most part they aren’t yours
for the bearing. It is someone else’s turn.
And, you? You now have time for some new things –
trying your hand at something you’ve always wanted to do, realizing that
failure isn’t the issue, and that the fun and satisfaction are in the trying.
The standards are ones YOU set for yourself, not based on someone else’s
expectations. And there is a deep, soul-pervading happiness in that! You may
not write the next great American novel, but you can spin a story your
great-grandchildren will love someday. You accept that you’re never going to be
thin and rich, so you make friends with yourself, as you are. You admit that
you’re not going to take a trip around the world and visit all the exotic
places you’ve dreamed about, but you find new avenues for exploration that are
within your scope, and you find they’re delightful, perhaps right in your own
backyard.
You look at your husband and realize there is a new
ease about him, too, and you discover that you can freely enjoy each other –
just each other – for perhaps the first time since you can remember. If he
brings you a perfect hornet’s nest for your birthday, it’s priceless, because
you know he thought you’d love it. If you ignore the laundry and dirty floors and
spend half a day with him in a jarring, rough-riding truck going to the back of
nowhere, just because he wants to be with you, the happiness is truly sweet.
And, maybe best of all, you finally have the time to
do something for someone else, other than your own family. It isn’t necessarily
in a third-world country and it doesn’t demand a major life change, but there
are vast opportunities for giving to others, a whole mission field in your
backyard. Finding your niche and really investing in it yields a solid return
of happiness like no other venture. This is joy in the deepest sense of the word,
to know you’ve somehow made a difference.
This is where I am today, as I stand on the brink of
adding yet another number to the tally of my years. None of us knows where our
happiness journey will take us tomorrow, but I’m not worried about it. Lots of
bad things happen, and lots of good things happen to all of us along the way. I
know I’ll wake up one day and find myself in a different place in life and it
will hold a new promise of happiness. I hope it will include wisdom, contentment,
peace and the love of others. Let the journey continue…
Incredibly beautiful piece, Janet! I read it with misty eyes, grateful, as you so aptly expressed, for each stage along the way, and especially for this one. What could be a better present than knowing you could write like that? I hope to see this in the Times, so everyone can appreciate it. Happy Birthday!
ReplyDelete