Happiness, it’s complicated

Helllooooooo Travellers,

It’s Friday and we had what may be, dare I even say it, the finest walk of our lives. It’s in the 60s, humidity gone, the air was crisp and the world felt freshly plucked. I left at 6am versus the usual 5:30 and the edges of the horizon were the color of ripe cantaloupe that eventually faded to wispy pinks and blues. The owls were hooting as we walked down our street and as we turned the corner, I could hear the rooster doing his thing. Apparently he felt this was a fine day as well, because he was still at it on our way home, that’s 40 minutes of cock-a-doodle-doing, or rather overdoing as I’m sure the neighbors must think…

Yesterday in therapy, we talked about something that I am working on and I can’t help but think others may be as well, so here we go…

I don’t trust happiness. I’ve not trusted it most of life.

I’ll elaborate…

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