Happiness is a mindset. And a location.

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I have a writer’s dream. Currently, I have 96 drafts waiting to be finished, edited, or spell checked. I have a few posts actually written and ready to go, but I’m reluctant to post them since they harbor a tone different to what I’m feeling now. My writing is so much better when I’m living and breathing it in that moment.

So what’s happening in this moment?

Honest to goodness happiness. I’ll pause for a moment so you can roll your eyes…. Good? Ok, moving on….

Unless you’re Gretchen Rubin, writing about happiness kinda bores people. There’s no drama or juiciness to keep you on the hook for more. And drama is where it’s at right? No one really wants to hear how good you have it.

That’s the thing. 

“Having it good,” implies that nothing ever goes wrong. It seems everything is just so full of awesomeness and the horrible parts of life never happens. So untrue.

Bad things happen. Things get tight financially. Holiday dinners with family get missed. And occasionally, your basement will fill up with smoke, because the wood stove isn’t drafting right. In the dark. During a power outage. With small children that are screaming in fear, because the smoke detectors are blaring “FIRE!” over and over. Most definitely, there are clear moments of suck.

What’s different is how I feel.

I feel alive. No, I’m not smiling while handling random chaos, but what’s different is I’m settling back into bliss after the chaos. I level out by realizing how great things actually are. Happiness wins in the end.

I truly believe happiness is a state of mind and your location has nothing to do with it. But something really has to be said for having a place of your own. We’ve been bouncing around for a few years shy of a decade and every bone in my body was begging to settle. Yes, the girl who changes her mind and interests (and back again) on a regular basis was craving to set roots.

Happiness is a state of mind and my mind wasn’t happy.

It didn’t matter where we were. I was grateful for a roof over our heads and I could logically see how things could always be worse, but I felt trapped. I couldn’t adjust/paint/spread out/decorate or even unpack since I knew we weren’t staying. Every home we’ve rented there was always something amiss.

I’ve held onto the memories created at each location and in some cases, I wish I had paid more attention to what was happening around me, but it’s all over now. I can only learn from it and move forward. One thing is certain, I enjoy travel and many changes of scenery, but there is nothing like coming home.

Our move took every unsettled part of my being and set it free.

All anyone can do in moments (or years!) of flux is make sure you come out the other side – more knowledgeable and grateful for the experience. I am thankful for all of it. Some parts I’d like a do-over, but everything happens for a reason, and if the end result is happiness… well, I’m ok with that.

 

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