THE STORY OF HAPPINESS

These days I have many reasons to be sad. But to be honest, I’m not putting much energy into fueling that sadness. However, I’ve never understood people who were always happy or those who were always sad. Let me correct that, I think a person shouldn’t feel burdened to always be happy and always present a happy face. There are too many strange happenings in the world, sad unnecessary happenings in the world for me to pretend as if life is amazingly fun all the time and to be fearful of broaching a serious topic of conversation. Being happy all the time probably also means I can’t really connect with people because a holistically relational dynamic means sharing the joy and the pain, not one or the other. My gosh, I’m reading the gospels now, and I’ve never seen such a emotionally moody person as Jesus—up one moment and down the next; inspired, then dejected; moved by the crowds, frustrated by unbelief; inspired by belief, angered by religious teachers; partying it up, publicly weeping for a friend.
And then it hits you—happiness is circumstantial. If you’re happy all the time, you’re in denial of circumstances (because they can’t be all good) or you are not comfortable with people seeing that your circumstances aren’t great, so you put on a face. If you’re sad all the time, you’ve no anchor or hope or proper perspective to see the good. Why not have both?
My emotional life is like driving a car, honestly. I notice sometimes I lean too much to the left of the lane so I adjust the car to move it back center by turning to the right slightly, but sometimes I over turn so I must come back to the left. I want to be sensitive, as sensitive as possible to the world around me, its problems and triumphs, but I can’t be so sensitive that I’m paralyzed in fear and inaction or demotivated from acts of justice.