It’s just another ordinary Turesday night, I sat down in front of my computer after a long day’s work to check my e-mails, pay bills, see what new tv episodes to download, and hang-out on facebook for a while to surreptitiously and overtly catch up on friends’ status updates, whereabouts and goings-on.
I came upon a link posted by an FB friend who I shared a class in musical theater several years ago. It was a song from the musical You’re A Good Man, Charlie Brown entitled “Happiness” where Charlie Brown and the rest of the Peanuts gang sang about simple things that made them happy. Simple things like having two kinds of ice cream, learning to whistle, climbing a tree, or sharing a sandwich.
That FB friend posted the link on his wall because he misses musicals. I listened to it and missed just being happy.
Now don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I’m living a sad sorry life where every single minute is just gloom and doom. I still have happy moments. There are still a lot of things going on in my life that I am happy about and very thankful for. It’s just that that general feeling of genuine happiness don’t come just as easy for me anymore. I don’t think it has for a very long time.
I go out to shop. I scour for great deals on the net and on flyers, and as soon as I buy them, I’m all excited to go back home and try them on. Sure, that makes me happy. I guess that’s true for almost everyone. But it isn’t like the genuine happiness I felt when, back in Manila and in my first couple of years having a job, I would scrimp on my meager salary and buy the simplest of things that I can afford and give them as anytime gifts for my family.
I’ve taken trips, vacations to different places, different countries, sometimes with friends, sometimes by myself and I have all these moments captured in photos. And, I’m sure anyone can relate to this, being able to save up enough money and reward yourself to go on far-off vacations is undeniably fulfilling. Was I happy during these trips? Of course. Can’t you tell by the smiles I have on my travel photos? But if I were to pick a memory when I felt just as happy or probably even moreso, it was those times when, as a kid, my mom would take me and my brothers, not to Disneyland or any place outside the country where we can’t afford, but just out to a nearby park, watch a movie, and share slices of pizza in an old pizza parlor. And you can tell that this memory must be really old because really, who uses the term “parlor” anymore?
Nowadays, the feeling after getting your paycheck is not as much fun as getting that red envelope from your Ninang (Godmother) on Christmas with a crisp 10 peso bill inside. Sure, there’s no contest in the disparity of the amount, but likewise, that raw innocent happiness does not even begin to compare. 10 pesos, for a child with nothing on his mind but toys or candies, and with nary an idea that it can only buy so t reason to get together and enjoy each other’s company, there must be some party happening. Blame it, I guess, on how busy, as adults, we are now and that we can’t just “waste” precious time for no good reason. I know because more often than not, I’d rather stay home and just spend “me time” to relax and de-stress from work.
Oh and I enjoy, yes, I feel happy, when I eat a juicy steak or indulge in a McDonald’s upsized meal. But the guilt that follows is just not worth every bite of happiness I’ve just had. Happiness, I find, is now, almost always, associated with impending guilt.
Just as that “Happiness” song suggested, I am now asking myself why I can no longer be happy with just having “two kinds of ice cream” or “climbing a tree.” Or “sharing a sandwich” and “learning to whistle.” (And yes, my whistling is a measly airy howl at best).
I may not know the answer right now. And I can always easily attribute it to growing old, becoming jaded, and having more to worry about than a simple arts and crafts assignment that’s due the next week or getting enough allowance to spend on the arcade.
But here’s my theory, as dumbed-down as it is, maybe pure genuine happiness is just a myth. An imagined feeling, as much believed by kids as Santa Claus, who comes down the chimney and leaves presents at Christmas. Just as real as the tooth fairy, who trades in your milk tooth with coins (which is really a creepy thought, if you ask me). Perhaps happiness is like the cute and cuddly Mickey Mouse, who, realistically, is just a squeaky hairy ugly pest that we draw out and hope to kill with poisoned pellets. Or a broom.
Tags: happiness peanuts
