Find Your Happy Again

I think I've always been self-aware. Not always in the ways that were most beneficial of course, but as far back as I can remember I understood I had an effect on the world around me. Stretching back, the first memories I can recall, though just snippets of my three-year-old self, have strong emotions tied to them. I remember feeling both excited and disappointed when my parents brought home my new sister. I was excited because I was now a big sister and babies, even to a three-year-old were incredible. The disappointment came when I realized this was not the brother I was expecting. When you are three, these kinds of emotions fill you from head to toe, because you have such limited experience with them.

Over time, life tends to desensitize us. The highs are never the same twice. The lows always suck worse than the last. It's tough to keep your attitude right when the balance of things is so skewed toward shit. When what used to make us elated only gets us to crack a smile, it's time to figure out exactly what is going on. It could be a simple as just changing how you view things that set that experience on fire again, or it could mean you've moved beyond a certain level of appreciation for something and it's time to just let go. No one wants a fun or enriching time to go the way of the aging rock star; we all want to preserve the best possible version of whatever made us happy in that moment.

Riley and I walked by a couple with a little boy who was roughly one-and-a-half or two-years-old earlier today. He was carrying a package of sheets (at least, I think) and mom asked him if he was all set — like if he had gotten everything he needed and he proudly stated it back in the affirmative. In an instant, I remembered each of my own sons doing the same thing. It isn't as though I don't derive happiness from my sons now, it's just far different from the firsts of their lives that made everything so much more amplified. When they were the same age as this boy, I didn't often let them walk around the stores, but on the few occasions I did, they absolutely had to carry something without help. The pride they had at doing something by themselves — something big people do, is infectious. Those emotions radiated from them and made me beam with smiles and excitement as I watched them grow, change and develop. Once they reached the teen years, the firsts, as well as their overjoyed expression were far and few between. It isn't as though I love them any less, but I just don't get the same jolt of happy that I used to when they did something new or got excited about learning like when they were younger.

Sometimes we need to get a boost of enthusiasm from someone else in order to reconnect with the parts of us that always responded to certain stimuli. I believe it is totally possible to re-sensitize ourselves to some of the things we were able to feel at some point in our lives. The trick is finding that experience, that thing that triggers those long truncated emotions and fills us with some of that old amazement again. It's out there, you just have to be open to recognizing it when it comes your way.