low_delta

Whorlpool has been posting about happiness; asking what has made us happy, lately.

I tried to think of something that made me happy that day. I couldn't think of anything. I posted that I enjoyed a duel I'd had with Ms. Fledermaus. It was great fun. But it didn't really make me happy. Happiness is longer term than that. Happiness comes from friendship and
love. Happiness comes from being pleased with oneself and one's surroundings.

My friends (including some who are around here) don't really give me happiness. They make me smile and laugh. They beautify my world.

Should that make me happy?

I saw a beautiful sunset the other day. It was the archetypal sunset. Fluffy horizontal rows of glowing pink clouds. Brilliant pink sky fading
into orange near the horizon. During my short westerly drive home, the pink faded entirely to orange. The clouds' glow turned towards the
underside while a gray crept down them.

It was the sort of thing that I've always said made life worth living.

Does it? It adds so much to life, but can it sustain one on its own? Or does the beauty just prolong the agony?

Have you ever heard Patti Smith's "Farewell Reel"? It is for the loss of her husband. It is so sad. It is so beautiful. It is of a pain that most people can only hope to ever feel.

Smith's love gave her an exqusite sadness. A sadness that ultimately speaks that her life was worth living.

I am merely a witness to her pain, but when I witness this, it gives me hope.

I guess in the absence of true happiness, I'll settle for hope.