Happiness is . . .

It seems to me that much of the so called "beauty and happiness" in this world is really the self impressed posturing of people who want to point out that they have something others don't have because they have done something others don't do.

They got up earlier, stayed up later, worked harder, made better deals, bought better stock, live in a better climate, own better cars, better clothes, better anything that could be used in a competition to be the happiest and most beautiful.

If that is the measuring stick for happiness, it becomes necessary to be around people who want the same things, because without them you miss the one-up-man-ship and the beauty of the moment is tested.

But I don't really believe these things are real happiness, nor do I believe they are necessarily the best sort of beauty.

If something requires a price tag to be considered valuable, it brings up all sorts of questions in my mind. Is a $500 skirt really any better than a $20 one?  Why?  If it lasts longer, or keeps you warmer, that is one thing.  If it comes from a designer store I think it is questionable.  If you have to train the eye to see the beauty, then I wonder if you aren't just training the eye to see beauty your way.

We are taught to want so many things done in just a certain way and I think that is teaching people to turn away from the road to happiness and fall into the rut of conformation.

Shel Silverstein has a poem in his book, Where the Sidewalk Ends, that talks about the wonders of the world and I like the last line: But all the magic I have known I've had to make myself.

I think true happiness and beauty fall into that same category.