"What would your younger self not believe about your life today?"
A simple question from “we’re not really strangers” spurred a thought within me. And though the occurrence could’ve struck me as mundane, given the mass of thoughts I bombard myself with on a regular basis, I found myself in awe of my answer:
“…how much happiness I’ve created for myself.”
It wasn’t what I had found–as I might a passion, or, hell, even a soulmate, but, how much happiness I actually self-manufactured day-in-and-day-out. It’s a bizarre revolution–one that both uplifts, and saddens you, because all around you, powerful propaganda asserts that happiness isn’t self-created. Society has worked for centuries to make us feel as if happiness has to come from some outwardly source: we’re made to want jobs, disposable things, and partners, that make us look and feel more important, until we’ve screwed over just about everyone to get it, and everything. still. fucking. sucks.
The only cure, it seems, is challenging ourselves to make the happiness we want to feel; to create it for ourselves, one step at a time. And on our darkest days, to feel that happiness is the strength to believe that the rain that’s pouring is only part of the sunshine.
But how can that sunshine be created?:
I have some thoughts