the curious thing about joy

As far as I can tell, my wonderful friend Miranda is the kind of mom everyone would hope for, and hope to be. I've suggested perhaps she'd like to adopt me, but she's mostly ignored it. Fair enough. I come with frightening student loan debt and I've probably outgrown my cute stage. Nevertheless, she said something the other day that struck me so deeply that I actually wrote it down. We were discussing how easy it can be to err towards cynicism. It's a perspective we've generally shared. But now, as a mother, she feels differently. What say you, dear friend? You no longer want to be mopey? How can this be? This is what she said: "Since I've had Fiona, I want to be happy. I want to make her life happy and sunny." It melted my heart and made me think, Do we all need a reason to be happy? 

I often imagine all sorts of things will transform me into one of those unflappably cheerful people. Moving back to New York, seeing my favorite people more than once a year, making more money, etc. But as current psychological research suggests, even if all of those things line up, I'll soon feel the same as I do today. Which is not to say UNhappy by any means, but I'm not particularly over the moon about anything. My baseline typically hovers around "meh." But, what if it didn't? What if I simply made a conscious decision to be more joyful? Could I even do it? My visceral reaction to even typing that was, "but what if I LIKE not liking things?"

I suspect that's the differentiator. A desire to be happy. Most of us have scores of things to be happy about, but mix them in with a hearty dose of daily trials and tribulations, and they can quickly get lost. Unless of course, you are actively looking beyond the minutiae. And what better reason to embrace the bigger picture than some good, ol'-fashioned unconditional love? Like the early stages of a romantic relationship, when the whole world looks rosy, I imagine the kind of love one has for their own baby evokes feelings of the technicolor variety. I won't go any further making assumptions about motherhood, as I'm completely out of my depth there. My point is simply that happiness seems like the result of a conscious action, rather than it passively washing over us only when the stars align. 

Whether the motivation to be happy is a boundless love for your little one or some other inspiration, I'm beginning to think it's up to us. We make the choice, every day, how we are going to feel. So maybe tomorrow I'll resolve to be happier than usual. Typically when I make such a resolution, I fall off the bus or spill coffee on myself, testing the limits of my contentment. But we'll see. Maybe I can do better if I really want to.