Last Sunday night I got all excited thinking about my evening of knitting and watching Downton Abbey, and then I stopped for a minute and thought, “How’d I get here?”
(Okay, shut up, I didn’t do one of these maudlin retrospective posts for my birthday, so I’m due.)
It sounds stupid to say it, but I think lately I’ve learned that you should value what makes you happy. How did I learn that? Was it because of having kids? Was it because I’ve spent the last year thinking a lot about simplifying my life? Did a little birdie whisper it in my ear out in the woods at the Haven?
Things that make me happy:
- Spending time with the kids, like ice skating and playing checkers
- Playing guitar and accordion
- Being outside
- Trying new foods / experiences
Things that do not make me happy:
- My daily commute
- Buying things
Geez, seems kind of obvious when you put it like that. How did I not know this until I turned 33? Isn’t that like, the one thing everybody knows?
Sometimes I think that past me would look at current me and say, “Dude. I don’t even know you anymore.” But then other times I think that I’m still me, only more so. Like I’ve finally arrived at the end of this path I’ve been traveling down my entire life. Maybe past me would look at current me and say, “Ah ha! That’s the answer to the equation I’ve been working on! That’s the last sentence at the end of the book that makes this all make sense!”
The good news is I know what makes me happy, which is more than a lot of people. The bad news is not knowing what makes you happy makes it a lot easier to convince yourself to keep doing all the crappy things you have to do in life whether they make you happy or not.