romanticizing happiness & discovering wholeness

5.16.2014

i live in a perpetual cycle of observation, analysis, and reform. i blame this on weekly therapy sessions, an overall sense of hyper-awareness, and an intense- and occasionally obsessive- desire to stay on top of my own feelings. the latter is a repercussion of the painful familiarity with what happens when those emotions are allowed to get the best of me; it's not a place i'm comfortable with visiting often. it's my own personal pandora's box.

as of late, this state of being has been a double-edged sword: an advantageous asset and a facilitator of discontentment. while it gives me a complimentary gift of perspective and the ability to find silver linings, it's difficult to just be, to not dissect every moment of every day and think about how i could've done better, been better, be happier, or better facilitated someone else's happiness.


and it's absolutely as exhausting as it sounds.


since becoming a mother, i've noticed this duality being shifted into overdrive. my desire to be my best- for myself and, also, to be the best mother for marlo- has been an ongoing pursuit with no end in sight. call me tenacious, call me overzealous, call me whatever. this constant state of awareness has lead me to really think about what makes me full and whole.


not, happy.


whole.


happy is overused, undervalued, and its' meaning is always morphing as i grow and change. happiness, as a result, is impossible to sustain unconsciously. feeling whole, one the other hand, is a result of finding one's place, purpose, and why it all matters.


the happiness project versus eat. pray. love.


what you do versus who you are.



you see? so distinctly different.





maintaining happiness seems a bit delusional and a lot unrealistic. why put that pressure on yourself? now that happiness is no longer my goal, i embrace the trudging through bad days. i welcome- begrudgingly, of course- the moments that i stop and ask why does life have to be so complicated and so fucking hard? 


because it just does. because it aids the discovery of who you are capable of being in moments when you don't particularly want to be anything. because it makes you whole.


i do wish that i could take life less seriously every once in a while. just slip on my rose-colored glasses and just be. but along with no longer giving a damn about attaining some unmeasurable value of happiness, i've accepted that i take my life seriously because i want to make the one life that i've got to life worth something.



making my life worthy of me living it is a pretty good start to finding wholeness.


don't you think?

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