​What’s happiness to you?

Doing what you enjoy and doing it well? 

Another person near?

Something good to eat, in the company of friends?

A cat purring in your lap, waiting to be fed?

A day spent in quiet solitude, with a book for a friend and music for a date?

A trip someplace far that makes you feel somehow nearer to where you need to be?

Someone’s warm nakedness and naked warmth?

A child?

The morning sun, infusing golden life into a new day?

Health, energy, strength?

A bit of all of these?

And maybe something more?

They say every person’s heartbeat is unique, that each heart beats in its own way.

Maybe we can each be happy only in a different way,

And two people’s happiness can never be quite the same.

Maybe happiness can only be after it happens,

And never comes again in the same way.

Maybe each time we try to be happy we can only remember how happy we were the first time.

To look for happiness then can only lead into the past.

I don’t try too hard to be happy,

I only try not to feel sad.

And I have plenty of good excuses for that.

You’re probably one of them, too.

Happiness will find us, in one way or other.

I wouldn’t worry too much.