And I truly wish there was some way to capture the goodness. Pack it up into large vats, label and tag them by levels of happiness. Stash them away. For a rainy day. Like a happiness fund that I can tap into every time I feel a dip in my enthusiasm. Dig in, pour myself a glass of Happy and let it take over. Everybody could do with a happiness fund. A way to stock up on the good times. So they never run out. And right now I’m feeling greedy for the sunshine. It’s probably hard to believe it. After all the whining I’ve resorted to around here.
I suppose I could tell you how the sticky-icky horrible present situation hasn’t moved on. How I haven’t found a way out of this dead-end. How I’m actually pretty unsure of which way to go. But let’s not go back down that contemplative road. I’ll save it for another post, when I have some direction and something positive to say about it. There’s a time for all that thinking. And that time is not now.
I’ve had a sunshiney Sunday. I went back to an old, old trick. I decided to let go. Kicked back. Chose to forget. Draw a blank and surrender to the situation. Stop mulling over it. Stopped the incessant thinking. Just gave in. I’ve had it with all this incessant angst. And I decided that if that’s how its going to be for a while, so be it. I’m going to let it take its time and tide over. It turns out, its possible. Even in times of utter despair, when it feels like nothing worse could happen, it is possible to reach that point of peace. Grab that c’est-la-vie ray of sunshine and hang on to it.
I may not have found a way to stock up on Happiness, but there’s always good ol’ beer. And then there’s Corona. No matter what you tell me, they’re not the same.
Beer is heavy. Corona is crisp and light.
Beer makes me bulge. Corona refreshes me.
Beer cuts through, with every sip. Corona glides in, effortlessly.
Who’d have thought I would post this, so soon after I posted this. Even though I’m supposedly off beer, we treated ourselves to some fresh Coronas yesterday. At 120 bucks a pop, in Goa where Indian beer is almost cheaper than water, this is not something I do often. But when the husband accompanied me on our weekly shopping and sneaked in 6 bottles in, doubled my expenses and gave me a cheery grin in return, I really couldn’t help but give in. This is his idea of finally having some alone time. A date, he says.
So yeah, I might not have found a way to stash away Happiness. And I might not have found a permanent solution for the crappy situation I’m in. But choosing acceptance, rather than resistance, I think, just might be half the battle won. And when all else fails, I’ll just take the husband out shopping again.