Happiness

I try sometimes, as I constantly hurry from one task to another always on the move to another place than where I am, to reflect on the state of things.

It is not easy to engage in this kind of mental exercise because in my head there is a constant buzz of thoughts on what I just did, what I am doing, what I am going to do next. How, where, when, who, what are concepts I always relate to on different levels. It is like living and acting on parallel existences. Life is like an adventure with ever changing setting, pace and colors.

In the midst of this I stumbled upon a somewhat worrying question I tend to keep in the back of my head: Am I happy? If I just cut to the core, disregarding the chaos I feel my life is a majority of the time, would it be right to say that I am living my life being genuinely happy?

Happiness seems to be what everybody is striving for. Media, and society beyond that, tells us so in pictures, words and display of material visibility. We're trapped in a chase for happiness constantly, where we as a people in one of the best countries in the world are supposed to be happy all the time. Whether it's family, friends, work or love. And it's hard to not always be completely there – embedded in a bubble of happiness. 

Then again; happiness, the state of being happy, can’t be to constantly show the world a bright Colgate smile… Would we really be able to recognize feelings if we never felt otherwise? If I was never sad, would I know what it is to be joyful?

I know people who smile most of the time, (and always do in public) but they still claim they are very unhappy.

Happiness means different things to different people, or perhaps it would be more correct to say that what makes you happy changes by where you are in life; what your circumstances of life are like, right now. Right now; you are the result of everything you experienced in the past. You just need to decide to do the best of it.

For example, for one person it may mean being in a (romantic) relationship whereas for someone else it may mean feeling you have the ability to handle whatever life throws at you. To cope and to be independent of aid from others can be very fulfilling… to some.

While you might think that there are certain things that make you happy (or could make you happy if you had them), it is funny how most people I talk to never really mention what they own or do not own. To wish for something, saving up money for a specific event, thing or secure and comfortable retirement is just as satisfying as to actually get it. 

The anticipation is a great part of feeling happy: To realize what you have now and appreciate it, but looking forward to whatever it is you are  planning (and expect) to achieve. But keep the words of John Lennon in mind:”Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans”.  Don’t spend your life waiting for what the future holds: Fill your days with life instead.

Personally, I find the “looking-forward-to…” phase so very exciting. Thinking about what may come gives a free rein to my imagination and I come up with perfect outcomes of my planning.

What distinguishes happy people from the unhappy is very often their choice of words and way of thinking. The attitude of a cup half empty, or a cup half full, colors you as a person and therefor people you surround yourself with. I believe we make an impact on those we keep near, and it is like exchanging motivation, inspiration, attitude, state of mind…: What I get is what I give. I can make people around me if not happy at least more content… and being content is a very good start.

I would think that happy people are generally healthier people than unhappy people. Not only mentally, but also physically. I don’t think that being miserable is what attracts virus or sickness, but if you are down it is sometimes hard to point out what it is about you and /or your life which is bad, so you think hard on reasons to what might be not right.

Finding myself in the middle of the bustle my life is: Yes. I still have things I want to get or to achieve. But deep down, in my heart, I have to confess I am happy.

Bodily misfortune

More and more often I wonder about human nature. There is something profoundly wrong with us, when we let strangers decide how we feel about ourselves. And how we feel about ourselves, is accepted to be based on a set way of thinking what we should look like, according to a few wise guys with so-called authority and knowhow on the matter. This is not about bad haircuts or torn jeans, chains and nails or too much (or little) make up. We are measured and judged by our BMI, not by our actual looks. I don’t even mention personality here, cause that is, as far as I have understood, not relevant.

I have mentioned my own size here before, but just to remind you, or give you a quick update: I am a rather heavy girl, and I do not mean in the sense of what I am like being around; I am talking kilos.

To change that, I know I have to do something serious about my lifestyle: My dog should get a few extra kilometers’ walk every day, I should eat often and very small portions, I should be more active and perhaps even ride my bicycle to work… Cut to the core weight issues is all about too much in versus too little burned. And if you enjoy too much, well everything we do has consequences. Eating and drinking too.

Now, obesity is a huge burden for those who suffer from it, not to mention how their families are affected. Often frustration, feelings of powerlessness and depression eventually affect the daily lives of people with what is often referred to as "morbid obesity".

Those are the politically correct explanations to what it is like to be fat. The truth is that what really affects a person is not the risk of getting sick. The risk of future serious health problems is not something people really think about. If they do think about it, it is something which could possibly happen others, but not yourself. (Ask any smoker, and they will say that yes, they knew about the risk of getting cancer and other illnesses.  Yes, they chose to start anyway because it will not happen to them.)

The hassle of tying shoelaces, getting in and out of bus seats and cinemas with a trifle bit of dignity left when getting out of there, the constant worry of BO (think for yourself how much effort it takes to move 200 kilos contra 100) or missing a thorough embrace. Not to mention what it feels like to shop for groceries when every other customer in the store pay attention to what you buy and how much.

Fat people are never in commercials or films unless they are there to illustrate a diet of some sort, or they are portrayed as funny, clumsy, often unwashed hair or too much make up, with no true friends and no sexlife.

You know what I find offending about it? There is not one single voice out there who say: “How rude!”  In addition to everything else they have to struggle with, they are suitable for picking on; people are entitled to blame them for their own, bodily misfortune.

Why don’t we ring the doorbell and ask them to join us when we walk our dog? We should give them support and an alternative rather than use them for an excuse to rightfully bully someone.

Maybe it is so that normal size people need fat people to feel good about themselves?