When I was younger, I would hold my happiness hostage. The ransom: oh, such important things as thin thighs, weight loss, the perfect outfit to wear, a good hair day, a boyfriend, etc., etc.
I'd be happy if only . . . was my mantra.
Now, I'm just happy. Happy that I woke up today. Grateful that I have a home, I have a body that works (sure there's creaks that need oiling and parts that need hoisting and lifting); grateful that I have a wonderful husband; even grateful for the Golden Retriever who looks right past me when my husband's home; and very grateful there are people in this world who love me just as I am.
I am simply grateful. The aches and pains don't really matter; the people who I think done me wrong, don't matter. The things that haven't gone my way don't matter.
Today is an opportunity to live and I am going to embrace it and run with it (or maybe hobble, depending what my ankles decide).
The point is this, and I wish I had been the first one to think it: Happiness is not a state to arrive at but a manner of traveling.
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