Happiness

You know, sometimes I get really philosophical, and it's usually in the strangest of places. This post was inspired by yet another trip to the grocery store, where some of my finest observations seem to occur.

Yesterday, I was noticing as I wheeled my cart through the aisles that not a single person was smiling. Some of them were alone, some with children, spouses, cell phones permanently attached to their ears. But not one of them smiling. I wasn't, either. I got to thinking that throughout the course of a normal day, it truly is rare to run across people that appear genuinely happy. Now, you can't count that "I'm only smiling because it's the polite thing to do and you smiled first, anyhow..." look that you frequently get. Those aren't what I'm talking about. But now that I've mentioned that, isn't it interesting how many of us do that all day long when we really just want to go home and change into some comfortable clothes and eat ice cream and wallow in whatever it is that's eating at us? Only me? I don't think so!

So what's the point? If we're all running around just faking it at best, or at worst not even trying, then why even bother? I asked a friend of mine about this. "Oh, I'm happy. Definitely. I just don't feel like showing it every second of every day." Huh? If you're truly happy, then doesn't it make sense that you'd want everyone to know? That you might even hope to spread that happiness around a little? I think we're all just too caught up in ourselves and our lives and our jam-packed schedules to really appreciate most of what's going on.

My son is going to be 3 in November. He was born with several heart defects. When he was 6 months old, he underwent open heart surgery. He came through it all like a little trooper. I wish I had handled it as well as he did. One of the doctors that I work with pointed out something to me at a barbecue not long ago. He was playing with my son, who was giggling uncontrollably. He knew what Brock had been through. He asked me if he's always that happy. And that's when he made a really big observation. He said that Brock's whole demeanor just shouted out how great it is to be alive. I've looked at my son differently ever since then. Before, I saw him as a survivor...tough and stoic. Now, I see that he embraces life to the fullest. He's a very happy child and every day seems to be a celebration of his existence. I love that about him. It's like this intrinsic part of him, that somehow he just knows he's been given this wonderful gift of life and he means to enjoy every second of it.

I wonder if we all were like that at one point. And if we were, where and when did we lose that? How do I keep my son from losing that? Why can't we all just enjoy being alive a little bit more? I'm as guilty as anybody. It's not hard for me to take things way too seriously. I'm a worrier by nature, even though my logical side says that it doesn't help at all. And I have a hard time relaxing. I'm trying to change all that for myself a little. It's not easy.

Maybe everybody just hates grocery shopping as much as I do. Maybe if I'd made the observation somewhere else, it wouldn't have seemed so grim. Maybe if it hadn't been 100 degrees outside, we all would have been smiling more.

And maybe we all just need to spend an afternoon with our kids, and learn a lesson or two from them....