Deliriously Happy

Yep, that’s a deliriously happy face graffiti’d onto the side of a dumpster.

Now, you can call that irony, or juxtaposition, and maybe the person who painted it there was thinking that way too.

But…

I like to think it’s a metaphor. See, the happiest people I know aren’t happy because their lives are perfect. Happy people are happy because they choose to be. They’ve been making this choice so long and so regularly, they’ve probably forgotten it was ever a choice. Happiness became a habit. And you know what? After a while their lives start looking pretty perfect. To themselves. To others. They’ve gotten to the point that almost nothing has the power to make them unhappy. How perfect is that?

So the next time you’re feeling plastered to the side of the dumpster of life (this one’s in a Downtown Eastside alley, btw, so it can’t get much worse on the potential unhappiness scale) remember this guy. Putting this image in your mind may not make you happy. But I’ll bet you can crack a smile over it. And that’s a start.

‘Cause here’s the thing. Unhappiness is a choice too. Maybe, if you’re unhappy, you’ve forgotten you made it?

When I write these kinds of things, about happiness being a choice, about the kind of people who have made a complete commitment to making that choice, I’m usually thinking about Byron Katie.