Happiness. And now you’re probably reading out of sheer curiosity, saying: “Hey, this is the umpteenth article I’ve read about this topic, everybody has to say something about happiness. All…the…time. ” Well, guess what? You’re probably right, but I assume it’s quite normal and yes, now I shall state the obvious: that is what each and every one of us seeks. Continuously. Day in, day out. And we never get tired of it, because it’s what makes us carry on with our lives. It’s the simplest of perpetuum mobile mechanisms in the whole world because it’s” fuel” is more than abundant. Happiness is a shapeshifting notion – it can take any form and colour imaginable, just like the mythological sea-god, Proteus. It’s the warm, shimmery sand you hold between your fingers this second, though, faster than you can blink, it can disappear and fade from your grip as if you were pretending to be an oversized hour glass. Now think. What makes you happy? Have you ever wondered hard enough to know what is the thing that makes you happy? I mean, really think. It’s difficult, I know. But, please, make this effort and decide, because let me share a secret with you – whatever makes you happy is yours and only yours. Don’t just scratch the surface. Dig until you hit the core of your soul and watch what happens. I did that; I rolled up my sleeves, took a long breath and said “Hut, two, three, four! Yes, sir, I’ll scout ahead!”, and I stumbled upon a collection of arbitrary things which will forever make me smile. I found the blue skies of May and white clouds taking different forms in my imagination, regardless of how irregular their shapes were at first. I heard the humble, grey sparrows never getting tired of all their chatter. I wonder what they’re talking about. I felt the sun on my face, closed my eyes and stood like that, until all I could see was a shade of pale orange and then, upon opening them again, everything was covered in a hint of greenish for a few minutes. Speaking of green, yes, I discovered patches of grass and foliage. Why patches and not fields? Because I don’t mind the sight of concrete and asphalt, I spent my whole life in the city. That means my entire childhood, too. Next, I heard the laughter of my Mum, her voice cheerful and soft, telling me words of comfort. By pure luck, I found my purple super-hero blanket lying around, reminding me of how many monsters, which hid under my bed, it has slain for me over the years. Now they’ve moved somewhere else… Anyhow, I could feel the sweet scent of hot chocolate in my favourite mug and I could taste the golden light hugging a lazy October afternoon. Saturdays. Peonies and butterflies. I am such a girl.
But most important of all, not so long ago, in a corner of my soul, I hid something. Something more than precious. I’ve put it in a box labeled “Fragile – Handle with care!” You know how bower birds build their nest? They decorate them in the most insane ways: they pick up any shiny and colourful object they could find to impress and please their mate. Well, that’s what I did with my box – stuffed the interior with whatever soft materials I could hoard up (tiny feathers from my pillow, the feeling of fingertips running on your wrists, quick kisses and long hugs), to protect what I’ve put inside –which is far too delicate. Something that makes me the happiest that I ever been, something that exceeds all the things I’ve listed above, combined. The thing I cherish the most is his love. That overwhelming feeling that the world is ours, that nothing is impossible, that feeling of total annihilation of all evil. The feeling that makes me have no regrets, that makes me be strong in spite of my brittle bones, the only things which could break my fall, back then, before we met. Now, I can’t fall anymore. His love is that empowering feeling that makes me dance all the way through life.
A love so aerial, like the schizophrenia of the most treasured perfume in the world.
