Tuesday February 2, 2016
4 AM: I say ‘Happy Birthday Me,’ in a whisper, but definitely out loud, not subvocally. At 5:40 AM the phone alarm’s coaxing tones sound. “Happy Birthday Me!” I say one more time, a bit louder. Shimmery, like silver strands in a beaded purse, I shimmy in the thought that this is to be my year of happiness. I will make it happ(y)en every day.
Any kind of happiness will do: the cheesy sentimental kind, the recreational, superficial sort we call ‘fun,’ the meaningful variety derived from using myself well and expressing my signature strengths, and finally the bigger-than-me kind where those silver strands envelop others who need a little radiance.
All day buoyancy lifts me on waves of ebullience and through valleys of depletion. I seek only what is readily available to me for time, for food, for movement.
The fur of the old camel hardly shows where I have been sitting as he plods across the deserts and desserts of time.
Guest saddle: What have you made happ(y)en today?