I can't believe that I'll be turning half a century next year. Any Gen-X woman who has lived through the halcyon days of the 80's and 90's is probably amazed at how fast time flies. We definitely have come a long way since the days of black and white TV, Flinstone chewable vitamins, Rainbow Brite and rotary landline phones. Now that the retirement years seem visible on the horizon (eek!), I can't help but wonder where the pursuit of life, liberty and happiness has taken me. Maybe it’s time to calibrate my happiness meter.
Despite the pesky patches of grey hair that graze my hairline and occasional knee pain that jolts me as I alight from a bus commute, I come upon the realization that the meaning of happiness takes on a different shape when one grows older. I have become a version of my grandma who was known for loving the shallow pond of happiness (mababa ang kaligayahan).
I'm out of the rat race and just living life on my own terms. Hence, I no longer see any sense in becoming happy only when certain conditions are present--when I get that dream vacation or when I purchase that fancy, big ticket item. Happiness doesn't have to cost much, or it can even be free.
The joy in mundane things. This is the small but certain happiness that Haruki Murakami describes in his collection of essays, Afternoon in the Islets of Langerhans. Happiness is a pile of freshly ironed laundry or an ice-cold pitcher of Cherry Kool-aid. Happiness is being able to pay your bills on time. Happiness is a cat fed on time.
Until then, may happiness, small and big find you when you least expect it.
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