Day by day, I feel it growing: a steady, patient, plodding resolve.
Much of it is crafted from deliberate evasions—from repeated refusals to listen to the insidious voices inside of my head; the rest of it comes from fragile faith.
The resolution is simple: to be happy; to cultivate that peculiar combination of outlook, perspective, attitude and behavior that manages to extricate joy from existence (or will joy into existence; the distinction is slight).
It all sounds like terribly tiring work.
Which is why I’ve resisted it for so long.
It seems far easier to just wait to be happy. To wait for the elusive state, the fleeting emotion, the constellation of ALL the right circumstances, and so on and so forth.
But things fall apart. Constantly. Endlessly.
And it’s exhausting to wait.
So, I’ve decided to fashion my own brand of cheer.
It’s not as heady as other states of bliss I’ve experienced, and fares rather sadly in comparison to the other thrills and rushes of life.
But it’s sturdy and reliable (like all things hard won), with a very real capacity for sustained and steady growth.
But yes, it is hard work, and it does go against the grain.
Which is why the work requires a steady, patient, plodding resolve.