On Finding Happiness

For a long time, I didn't believe that your chest-I guess some would say your heart-could physically hurt. I brushed it off, saying it was just drama created for the movies. Just lovesick fools. They may be fools in love, or movie producers, but they have the hurting right.

Underneath my breastbone, there's a physical pain. A weight, a pressure. It squeezes me. Twisting. I've only experienced it with movies; never in real life. At least not for love. I guess it means I have a good appreciation for acting. Or just a really sad social life. But I feel it, too, for real people.

It's not the same-it's less immediate and sharp. It's a pressure that weighs on me. Makes my chest heavy. My eyes and nose full of un-shed tears. It's for pain. Other people's pain. Their struggles and sacrifices. Their hope in the face of adversity. I hurt for their hurts-big and small. Even things that aren't necessarily bad.

The amount of pain, hurt, and devastation in this world is unimaginable. One person can't comprehend it's magnitude, let alone feel all the pain. I can't. I wouldn't be able to move.

So I try to choose things I can handle. I still let it in-I don't think it's healthy to live without any sadness, but I try to limit it. Of course this doesn't work. It is easy to get overwhelmed by it all. Then I see the sun high in the sky, a child's pure joy, a flower's simple beauty. I see the beauty and happiness. I remember to let it in. I let it all come flowing in. I let the child's laugh wash over me, I absorb the sun's warmth, I breathe in the faint scent of the flower. I feel.

So my way to deal, with it all, at least for now, is to focus on the pain that I can help, or change, or listen to, or heal. I remember to let the beauty in. I share the beauty in any way I can. I see the hurt and am reminded of my many blessings. The pain and sadness can be overwhelming at times, but as long as you remember their opposites, you can always find your way out.