I have a rule: whenever something overwhelms me, I close my mind and take a step back. Look at it from the point of view of the world; as a fraction of a fraction of a tiny spec on the universe.
More often than not, it seems minuscule, downright trivial and senseless.
On the extremely rare occasion that it seems to matter, I know it's worth holding onto. It's fulfillment, satisfaction or, simply put: happiness.
Today, I returned to the hotel and reflected on my day while I turned in for the night. And for the first time after a long time, I genuinely could not stop grinning from ear to ear. I felt that warmth emanating from the inside though it was freezing outside. For the first time in a long time, the girl looking at me in the mirror just smiled at me. There was no worry, fear, tiredness running through her mind. Infact, her mind had stopped running for the first time since she entered the world. With it her heart also slowed down and she could feel the air ease into her and reach the pit of her stomach. Maybe that's what they meant by 'butterflies in the stomach', she wondered.
As I lay there, the still darkness around me my only companion, I thought. It wasn't about schedules and the future, my studies and meaningless words passed from one person to another. It was the regret. It was loathing. It was disgust in myself. I had forgotten what was my most precious piece of knowledge, my light in the great unknown. I had forgotten what it was to be happy.
People mistake success for happiness. They think it's interchangeable. So, we have replaced the pursuit of happiness with the pursuit of success.
Success is different things to different people but can generally be categorized with advancement in the professional field, social status, highest standards of lifestyles, fast cars, and of course, money coming out of ones ears.
But successful people aren't really happy. Well, they think they are but it's false happiness, I can assure you. Even just the fear of losing it all and that constant need for "more" is more than enough to drive the pleasure out of obscene luxury and wealth.
Maybe it's just that with God's grace, my father's been able to provide me with a comfortable existence, but I have never used to feel that need to be "better, faster" to be happy. I didn't want big flashy cars, palatial mansions and a designer wardrobe. Then somewhere along the way, in an effort to better myself in all other aspects of life, I forgot what was most important to me. I became materialistic and the amount I had became directly proportional to my emotions, and not to mention, what I thought of myself.
In trying to make something of myself, I had forgotten completely who I was.
My happiness lay in good friends, good food and good music. Beyond that, it didn't really matter at all.
I know it sounds cliche but cliches become cliches for a reason: if they are so common, well, there must be some truth to it!
And the damned world, with it's promises of fulfillment in your next BMW and the satisfaction of slipping into the "New Jean Paul Gaultier Fall-Summer '10 Collection", will make holding onto this knowledge painfully difficult. But hey, I guess you can't really blame them: marketing is an essential ingredient to the many people working there being "successful" (God, how I have grown to hate that word!) and thus, "happy".
As I write this, I feel my spirits dampened because I know as soon as I wake up, I shall forget my little late night revelation and find solace in the closest shop. It's always been a battle to hold onto myself and my thoughts and not let them fade away into the materialistic jungle out there. But as my past has told me, that moment of innocent, pure happiness is, most definitely, well worth the fight.
I shall now let the thoughts and thrills of today seep into my mind and wish you all a good night!
