One of the many things I’ve learned about happiness is that it isn’t achieved through ticking off a list of requirements.
I used to believe that, once my life met certain conditions, I’d reach this Shangri-La place of happiness where I’d surf out the rest of my life. Content. Carefree. And extremely loaded (yes, those conditions definitely included a huge sum of dolla-dolla-billz in my bank account).
Well, I haven’t reached that place that I envisioned and there have been plenty of times where I’ve been plenty happy. Many I’ve known who live lives complete with those conditions I envisioned for myself are some of the most miserable bastards I’ve ever met. So, obviously my theory was whacked.
Happiness, much like ‘passion’, is something that (ready for the cheese?) exists inside you. You bring it to the party, you don’t go to the party to get it.