I have embarked on a journey that is both exhilerating and exhausting. I have decided to participate in 100 Happy Days, an online collective of people posting one picture a day of something that makes them happy.
I am on day 58, and I have discovered something very important:. It is, in fact, a great deal of work to be happy. In fact, today I'm launching my new website, and the thing that brings me the most joy is that I have something I can post for my happy day today!
This evening I'll post: Day 58: I'm happy I launched my new website.
Whew! Another Happy Day down. I always feel such a relief when I post my happy day pic. While I appreciate that being "happy" is always in the forefront of my mind, I don't think this little exercise was meant to be stressful or intimidating.
Who knew being happy took such work? But more importantly, why is being happy so hard? Surely, we can take a moment out of each day to take care of ourselves. Is it so crazy, so self-involved to take five minutes to enjoy a cup of tea? Or an hour to watch a guilty pleasure on TV? Or, God forbid, two hours to go see a movie or go to the theatre?
I'm glad I agreed to this challenge. For the past 58 days, and for the next 42, I have and will take a moment to ask myself "What have I done to make myself happy today?" And then it brings up an even more important question: Since when has being happy become a special "event" or "challenge" with an end date? Shouldn't this be something I ask myself every day for the rest of my life?
It's a good question, but one that doesn't have to be answered until tomorrow, as I already have my post for today. For the rest of the day, I can be perfectly miserable. And that makes me very happy.