I spend most of my day thinking about other people, and other places; thinking about how I was in the past or how I’m going to be in the future; and solving puzzles and mysteries that I’ll never see coming.
This is one place that I look for Happiness.
Being honored for awards that don’t exist, or being involved or included with people who know nothing about me.
Sometimes those thoughts stop, and I am where I am. I’m with me, and no one else; I’m in a room that seems so small and still; and realize that I don’t much like where I am.
I catalog real moments of pleasure when I can. Moments that happen to me, and actually happen rather than me just dreaming about them happening.
Popping bubble wrap. Accidentally dropping something, but then catching it with lightning fast reflexes. Stepping on crunchy leaves. Making my cat all love drunk, just before she turns around and swipes at me for it. The first cup of coffee in the morning, and the last cup of tea at night. Closing a cab door in the rain. Stepping in puddles when you don’t care about your shoes. Feeling the breeze, before you get cold. Hearing the snow falling on the roof. Anything that has to do with the Muppets. Catching the clock as it turns exactly to 01:23. Moving a wet stone and seeing worms wriggle underneath it. Hearing myself breathe.
The worst loops are being sad that you’re sad, or the one that gets me is angry that I’m angry. I do all this work with myself to be content that I’m grounded, and yet I wake up angry that I’m disgruntled… for whatever reason.
I look up at where I should be, and I climb the ladder there but with each rung I get more and more exhausted that I eventually give in to just looking at where I should be, instead of being there.
However, feeling down is not the same as moving backwards. Each day I get a little better at fixing those bad days, and usually come back with a few tricks up my everlasting sleeves to get me through the tomorrows.