I often wonder where I would be now had this situation not have happened for me. I don’t like to wonder for long, because I largely think I’d be fairly fucking miserable still. That’s not to say I’m a ray of sunshine now, but I’ve learned a lot. Mostly about myself.
I imagine I’d still be in the construction industry, battling the weight of stresses that come with that alone. I’d likely not have travelled to any of the places on my list. I’d perhaps still be in the closet. I’d very much still be a people pleaser. There’s a good chance I’d have taken the British squat record by now. I’d definitely have put in a good fight at all the competitions over the last few years, possibly taking more medals and maybe even titles home with me. Bella and I would have made some wonderful memories while exploring nature more.
But would I have been happy? I don’t think so. I don’t think I’d have any understanding of what happy meant had this not have happened to me.
Happy to me before this meant meeting other people’s needs above my own. I thought that’s what made me happy, to make others happy. Yet the most free I felt was in the gym or walking with Bella.
I understand what it means to be happy now. I understand that humans cannot be happy all the time, that’s just a simple fact. I understand that it’s the little things that matter. The breeze, the morning sun on a crisp morning, a simple memory shared with friends and family. It’s being a part of someone else’s story, not to try and meet their needs, but just because you value each other equally. It’s the memories made with the little people in my life, of course I mean children, not fellow hobbits, though I do include them too. Being witness to their milestones, how they’re growing as human beings, their innocent souls and their easy joy.
I think we adults possibly have things all wrong. Dogs and children understand the joy in the little things. I’ll take Bella into the field and she’s either ripping up grass in sheer joy or just stood in a ray of sunshine, soaking it up while taking deep breaths of the fresh air. Or my niece describing how big her box is that’s full of stuffed toys in her room. Or my goddaughter as she tells me how much she enjoys doing painting and crafts with me.
As adults I think responsibility, expectations and other stresses can distract us from the small things. This time has given me the gift of remembering just how intense joy from the little things can be. I hope when I am better I never lose sight of that. That I will continue in life and still cherish the wonders of the world and nature, the almost uncontainable elation from seeing sun rises and sunsets, from the beauty in the light and the shadows cast by them.
Life truly is the little things and I hope I get to enjoy more of them soon. Happiness doesn’t come from pleasing others, happiness comes from within and from sharing the little things with the ones you love.
Today’s little joy came from walking Bella. I feel awful but she was particularly restless. So I booted up and off we went, at a snails pace. When walking I spent most the time watching my feet to ensure I didn’t fall, so instead I’d stop every few minutes to practice my favourite Bella ritual. Head up, deep breaths, listening intently to the nature around me. Taking joy from Bella shredding the grass with her big goofy smile and being grateful to have the entire space to ourselves. It felt like we had the entire world to ourselves and like the birds were singing just for us.