What is Happiness?
On any given day, in any fleeting moment, we are potentially filled with elation or drowned in depression. Perhaps it is not the conditions that fail us, but the failure of our perception to guide our emotions healthily. We can momentarily observe the sky and, amongst the stars, feel infinite - but for how long, i ask, will that stay true until the attention diminishes? Until we decide to return home, housed, and sealed away from what was once so uplifting?
Life is not about spontaneity in general. Life is about the spontaneity of our imagination, and the allowing of growth and cultivation of such. Whether our medium of choice is painting, singing, or writing - that form of expression should not be suppressed by superficiality but facilitated by the passionate fury we inherit from living everyday.
It’s been said that all is simply a state of mind. Challenge it. So much so that it is as real as science, yet as abstract as swallowing the sun. What else can we look forward to than spiritual succession? Being a CEO, big baller, or famous are all conditions we can live in, but living happily with them - now, that is our paradox.
What
is
happiness?
Why have countless philosophers left this question so open ended if not to give us the chance to answer it?
So answer it. In whatever wave of genius you allow yourself to consider.
