My friend recently said to me in a manner of fact way that the sunshine, the one nice day we had in the city recently, changed his attitude. More than that, it opened up his aptitude, he felt healthier and more alive. Receptive. People say stuff like this all the time but for my friend and I, we’ve been sort of struggling with happiness or any shred of light above a deeply rooted knot of anger and regret. We are the late twenty somethings. We are the twenty somethings from a generation of kids that never had plans on growing up and then once we realized we wanted to…well, there just isn’t a clear way to get there. Somewhere there’s a road between idealism and what everyone else does, and we’re still under the impression that we have a choice, or we had a choice.
I think certain ideas get put out there culturally and then the oddest thing is a mutually accepted answer gets accepted out there also. And then people repeat it like they’re saying the time. “What time is it?” “Yes, it is eight. It is eight o’clock.” If you go around asking everyone on the street this question, everyone will tell you well “its eight o’clock,” but will anyone ask you “why?” “Why am I the one wearing the watch?” Happiness seems to now be regarded culturally as a luxury, its not a given, its not necessarily something your dog or white picket fence or wife can give you. Its not in the food you eat or movie you saw. So many things to do and happiness eludes us like a dutiful rat creeping beneath the track. When my friend talked about his reaction to the weather, I thought, you’re right. Right now he’s right, I’m not outside but sun has this tender glow, the wind is soft, so maybe happiness is a whisper, an element, not unlike the weather, maybe its in the sunshine and the ivy and the right wind in the trees…and in nothing else.