I am obsessed with happiness.
Learning about it. Living it. Figuring it out.
I know it is probably a fruitless endeavour, but I can’t stop. I just find it too interesting to stop. Many people probably never even think about why they are here or wonder what is the meaning of life? I am not one of those people. Although, I wish I was sometimes.
Recently, I was reading the Instagram posting of a celebrity who talked about how he felt he hasn’t been happy since he was 10 years old. This idea really got me thinking. Is true happiness the kind we can only find when we were children? When we were carefree without a single worry in the world. When we greeted everything new with excitement and sense of wonder. If we don’t find that form of childish happiness again, is our life unhappy?
I guess it is easy to romanticize our childhood joy because we can never replicate it again. I’d like to think every time we get the thrill of a new experience, like visiting a new country, we get to almost replicate that joy again in a small way. However, this time around we might actually be able to realize how precious it is and to savour the moment.
But I don’t really like thinking that we have reached our peak of happiness when we were 5 years old or something. I think we still experience happiness. It is just a different type of happiness and there shouldn’t be a measure of which type of happiness is the best. I mean, being happy is usually a good thing.