A friend looked me in the eye the other day and said, “you don’t seem happy”.  I said I was actually fine and quite content. And I really was.

And then at about 2am, when I do all my best thinking, I really thought about happy. In my mind, happy is more of an active feeling than a passive feeling. Contentment can be used to define happy but to me happy is more balloons and confetti and content is a nice fire, good book and a favorite blanket. You can look up the actual definitions; they change a bit by source but what hit home for me when I looked them up, is that my personal definition was more connoted meaning. Odd how we let words evolve as we age or maybe how we were taught them.

I was happy when my plane landed in Ireland as I had always dreamed of going. I was happy when the offspring’s band won state. I was happy when I was offered the library job and when my better half surprised me with a ring I really had been lusting over.

But for the most part, I really live life in content and not happy. And I am ok with that. I admire the hell out of people who live life at the setting of happy. I just don’t think in my umpteen years on this earth, I hang out at that level for long periods of time.

The picture was taken this weekend at our local festival and I am thinking of doing it for a sign in my library… it was a fun read (and honestly 98% PG) of what makes people happy.

I hope today you have a burst of happy that brightens your day, or maybe makes you content in your own skin.

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