The Pursuit of Happiness

“The way to find out about happiness is to keep your mind on those moments when you feel most happy, when you are really happy — not excited, not just thrilled, but deeply happy. This requires a little bit of self-analysis. What is it that makes you happy? Stay with it, no matter what people tell you. This is what is called following your bliss.” – Joseph Campbell

I went to the doctor’s office last week because I was feeling ill. For a week I had a cough and sore throat and couldn’t seem to shake it off. My doctor, who reminds me of your typical brunette New York foreigner who speaks what’s on her mind, looked at me and told me ‘You don’t look happy.’ In my mind I said to myself ‘of course I don’t look happy, my body is a mucus factory. After talking a bit more she mentioned it again. ‘You don’t look happy. Do you think you could be dealing with depression?’ At this point I started to think maybe she was on to something. Am I ‘not happy’?

Have you ever meet a person that was always cheerful? Always smiling and laughing? Always positive and doesn’t seem to let many things bother them? That is not me. I am an emotional shit storm and I don’t have a poker face. I know I wear my emotions on my sleeve, so when she mentioned the fact that I didn’t look happy for a second time I began to evaluate myself. And it didn’t take me long to realize that she was right. I'm not happy.

I’ve experienced a few setbacks this year. 2014 has been a doozy for me, albeit things could be worse. But at this moment, I can truly say I am not happy. I am not unhappy either. I would prefer to describe myself as indifferent. (That makes sense, right?) I get happy about certain things but deep down, I am not happy. There is no joy in my soul. My life is filled with mundane tasks and stress thinking about my future. 

While my doctor was just probing, her statement made me think. I'm not sure if I realized that I wasn't happy. For a while now I've just been doing my daily routine, desperately searching for a new job, trying to manage my tight budget (in which I have not been successful), rebuilding broken friendships (because I realized that I wasn't as good of a friend as I thought I was) and spending time with my semi dysfunctional family. So, one simple statement from my doctor made me stop and think about what it means to be happy, how to obtain happiness, and how to retain it.

One thing I know for sure is that some people have to work harder to be happy compared to others. Some people are just naturally happy. They naturally have the ability to not sweat the small stuff. In my case, and I believe most Americans, being happy is literally a pursuit. We are constantly seeking the things to bring enjoyment to our lives. But we find ourselfs still not quite fullfilled. We run around in some sort of ungrateful and prilvilged mind set which causes us to sweat the small stuff and not appreciate the little things in life. Usually, It’s not until something devastating happens, like the loss of a loved one, when most people try to put things into perspective. But what if we worked daily to put things into perspective? What if every day we committed ourselves to happiness?

Joseph Campbell says that happiness requires self-analysis. In my case, I know what triggers me and my emotional swings. I have a tendency to react harshly and defensively. I tend to see the negative in most situations and create conflict within myself. I know that I have many fucked up aspects to me, but the good news is that I KNOW these things. And I know what it takes for me to be happy but sometimes it easier to just bitch and complain, dwell in the misery. 

Lately, I have been trying to let go of my pride. Why is it so hard to say ‘I am sorry’? Why is it so hard to be the bigger person? I look back and I realized that on those few occasions where I swallowed my pride and apologized or made a mends, those are the times I allowed myself peace within my heart. I sought after happiness in those moments of humbling myself. So, we have to think of those things that prevents us from being happy. Pride. Control. Arrogance. 

So, in a way I think love, humbleness and happiness go hand in hand. When you’re happy, your energy transfers. And I am not talking about being excited or thrilled (as Campbell mentioned) but deeply happy within. When you are truly happy, nothing can take that away from you because it is buried deep within.

So I am kicking of this Thanksgiving week on a pursuit for happiness and I want you to join me. Here is what we have to do.

1) Discover the things that prevents you from being happy and how can you remove these things from your life.

2) Determine what makes you happy and how to internalize this happiness.

It’s easy to look at all the bad in this world. It’s easy to get sucked into negativity. But this is where you dig deep and you remind yourself that the only thing/person that can make you happy is YOU! You have all the power. It takes work. It may be the hardest thing in life you will ever have to work towards (because our internal demons are the hardest to slay) but consider it a journey and at the end of the day, it will only enhance your life on this earth. Because at the end of the day, your mind is the only thing you have.

“Find a place inside where there's joy, and the joy will burn out the pain.” – Joseph Campbell

Gut Feelings

*** Something I wrote after my break-up with my ex-boyfriend. I initially wrote it on 05/24/14. But I decided to post it now ***

My biggest fear use to be that I would die alone. It’s not my biggest fear anymore. I think I have accepted that this may be my future. There are no violins. This isn't a blog entry of me accepting the circumstances of my pity party, but a realization. A realization that I feel in the pit of my stomach.

When I was 12 years old, my mother became a live in nurse. She worked in Key Largo, which was about 2 hours from where we lived. She would only come home on the weekends. And she worked there until I was 18 years old. Since my brother was too young to take care of himself, my mother took him with her. When I was about 15 years old my sister moved out. There were plenty nights were I was home alone in a 4 bedroom house. I remember how scared I would get if I heard a noise, and I would just lay in my bed praying throughout the night.

During that time, I can’t remember feeling lonely. However, after college loneliness would be a feeling that I would be all too familiar with. It use to sit in my stomach, and grew as my anxiety intensified. After college, life became a mess of intensified religious practices, self-doubt and an unsatisfied desire to be accepted. Discovering. Learning. Lonely. I remember when I rented my first one bedroom apartment after moving to the DC area for my job. I would wake up in the middle of the night and have panic attacks. I was more than a thousand miles away from my family. My family that was used to growing and living life without me. And while the obvious resolution would be for me just to move back home... it’s not that simple. Distance does more than create loneliness. It also creates differences. And most of the time I am visiting I dread it. Why? That is another story all together. But after my mother died, the family fell apart.

I think back at all my relationships and wonder, will there ever be anyone that I can’t live without? Or that one person who needs me in their life? A part of me is happy for the strained relationships in my life because distance means you can’t hurt me. Distance means I am free from the burdens of socialization. I remember a conversation I had with my ex-boyfriend walking through a park. I told him that I don't feel as if any man can every truly love me. I know that sounds bad. I know how it sounds. But its how I feel. I don’t think a husband and children are in my future. I am not sure if I even want it anymore.

Some would say, your still young… you have time. Yeah, yeah. Ever since I was young I knew that I wouldn't be that girl. I wouldn't be that girl who would receive that kind of love. And all my adulthood attempts to imitate that love was forced. Because in the pit of my stomach that feeling would reemerge and it would remind me, what I am and what my life is supposed to be like. No one will ever love you. So I had to start loving myself.

There have been two good things that have come from this… I am stronger. I don’t hate myself anymore. I've accepted who I am. The second thing is that I don’t feel that fear in the pit of my stomach because I accepted that gut feeling.

Dependency is such a crippling thing. Losing yourself when you become close to someone. Someone that you can’t control. Someone that you can never truly understand.

I wish I could see the world from a surface level and have a more ingenuous outlook. But I am plagued. This may be a moment of insecurities overtaking me, but I need to be real. There are women who never get married and never have children. If this happens to me, I don't want to be miserable. I want it to liberate me.

Are we egging his house or nah?

When I was younger, my mother use to tell me that I had too many friends. I couldn't understand how someone could have too many friends? At the time, the only thing you really expected from your friends were to eat lunch with you and talk all night on the phone about who you had a crush on. Albeit, I would find myself in weird transitions where I had a few rocky patches regarding making friends. Starting a new school, it took a while for me to meet friends. In college, it took me two tears to make solid, dependable friendships. After college, I realized that making friends became a lot harder. In the real world, people have so many other commitments that they cannot spend their time crying with you after your then-boyfriend broke your heart. Yes… I just made this about me!

Well, prime example. My then boyfriend, now known as THE WORSE, broke up with me… I balled for maybe five days straight. I cried so much that my cheeks started burning due to all the salt in my tears. I had my cousin hostage on the phone for over four hours a day. And while my cousin was definitely a rock for me, in the back of my mind all I could think about was “where the fuck are my friends?” Where was the mob to join me on an ice cream binge, or look at the pictures of all his ex-girlfriend’s only to tell me how much prettier I am compared to them? Where were my friends that would put a towel over their shoulder and say, “Hey, here, feel free to drool on me for a few hours as you sob”? As an adult, friendships require a bit more than just having someone to eat lunch with it. A friend is someone that you could talk to, someone who you feel comfortable with, someone you can trust and share your intimate secrets with, someone who would drive past your boyfriends house to spy on him with you, someone who would give you a place to hideout when the police are looking for you... you know?

At my age, in the real world, people have their own problems. And while I wanted so desperately to kick and scream ‘I HAVE NO FRIENDS’ followed by throwing myself down a flight of stairs, I resisted. I realized that as you age, friends start to serve different purposes and that not everyone is going to dedicate that time to you. While I was hurting, I realized that my friends had their own problems and that they would not be dropping everything to be at my side. Not that ‘having your own problems’ is any excuse to not be there for your friend… because trust me, during this time I realized truly, how many friends I had. Not including the "friends" who only called me to find out how the break-up happened versus calling me to see how I was doing.

I am learning that some struggles you will have to face alone. And luckily for me, while I did not have many friends in my corner, I had two or three good women by my side. I had two or three friends who would listen to me tell the same story incessantly of how he broke my heart. And I realized for the first time what my mother was telling me all along… I had too many friends. I had quantity and not quality. And while I enjoyed hanging out with many of my DC peeps… I realized that many of them were just that… someone to hang out with. Friends are hard to come by and I am realizing that you shouldn't label everyone you talk to as a friend. My mentor in college told me to call my classmate my classmate, call my coworker my coworker, call my roommate my roommate and only call your friends your friends.

I still have many friends, about 15 people who I would most definitely want to be bridesmaids (I know… that is tacky but so what) in my wedding. And most of these friends are people that I met before and during college. I cherish my friends and I realized that life has taken us on different journeys so while they may not be there for me during my darkest hour; I know that if they could – they would. And those who don’t have your best interest at heart, well… you can just drop them. You can’t pick your family but you determine whom you consider a friend.

And before I end this random entry, I want to suggest that next time a friend seems like they need some emotional support, pick up the phone and call them or invite them out to lunch. Texting is cool but sometimes it is not enough. Sometimes just saying 'I will pray for you' is not enough. Your friend is worth it.