Saturday 2nd February Happiness, we all know what it means, don’t we.  And we can all recall times when we were happy, maybe a long time ago, possibly far more recently, incredible even now too. But I find that ‘Happiness’ or the state of being ‘Happy’ is the hardest to actually define.

I am mostly in a state of benign contentment, which may be bordering on complacency at times.  I certainly wouldn’t want to lose everything which contributes to my contentment and at times ‘Happiness’; my partner, my two (or depends which way you look at it, three) homes, the dogs, a reasonable but not great salary, a dependable job which while no longer exciting keeps the brain cells ticking over, and my faculties and my health.

I can look back and remember many occasions when I was happy, but is this with the rosy glow of hindsight, and was I actually happy at the time?  I look forward with ‘happy’ anticipation to events in the near future where I am sure I will be happy, I am just not sure if I will appreciate and enjoy it at the time.  Maybe ‘Happiness’ is one of those fleeting emotions which as soon as we realise it and become conscious of it we stop actually being ‘happy’.

Part of my problem is thinking.  I think all the time, or at least I think I think all the time, and am an absolute newshound, so I am constantly brought down to earth by what is happening in the world, and it is mostly bad.  Maybe ‘Happiness’ is achieved by blanking the rest of reality from one’s mind and just enjoying the moment.  Which does happen sometimes.   We all seek escape from reality, mine in books and music and to a certain extent in my own writing.  And then I am happy, but as soon as I become aware of being ‘happy’ I am also aware that that ‘happiness’ is an elusive beast.  And ‘Happiness’, like the words ‘Love’ and ‘Nice’ are really sloppy and used far too often.

But I am happy with this state of benign contentment, with occasional dips into morose moaning, because then when that bad mood fades, you realise that you are ‘happy’ again.