Luckily, I have a penny.

Happiness is not a right, nor even a privilege.  It serves no social or economic class.  It is merely a state of mind.  Often fleeting.  Just because you were happy yesterday there is no guarantee you will be happy today or ever again for that matter.  Depression can grab you and its grip can be firm.  It's easy to continually ride in the rut we made days prior.  It takes conscious effort and strength to pull yourself from the den you have made.  Luckily, I have a penny.

Happiness is a choice.  A choice you must keep actively choosing. First you must want to be happy.  Right, who doesn't want to be happy?  Well, happiness like it's cousin Love is scary.  Like the first descent of a roller coaster.  Scary but Thrilling!  Happiness like Depression is addictive.  For those that have lived in depression for so long anything else, even happiness, is unknown and therefore scary.  Breaking through to the other side can be difficult.  Like all addictions, the second step is choosing to change.  The first being, admittance.  Luckily, I have a penny.

I have decided to be happy, I must also continue in every moment, again decide to be happy.  This is the hurdle that so many flub.  They want to change, they even chose to change but it is the requirement that they must keep choosing that wears them down and out.  So, I have deployed a physical queue to remind me to actively keep pursuing happiness.  Luckily, I have a penny (in my shoe).  And with every step, I am reminded to keep rolling down hill.

If you don't have a penny a small paperclip or pebble will do but don't make yourself miserable with too big of a reminder.

Fighting to Find the Art in My Invisible Pain.

martinak15

Disappointing Artist

When people find out I have a BFA, the first thing they ask is, "do you still paint?" In my heart I believe yes but I have no canvas to show them. So, I usually say no. They seem so disappointed, like I have given up or in. I would love time to paint again but painting time is a luxury I don't have right now. Maybe later. But that doesn't mean the artist in me is not active. Once you label yourself an artist you see art in everything. It's a continuum. Well, at least I'm trying to see art in everything. But finding art in my pain is difficult. I am not a masochist so this is going to be difficult.

Pain Horizon

Stephen Groeneveld

It just happened and hasn't stopped happening. One day everything was different; no accident to blame, no satisfactory diagnosis to help understand, no doctor with insight or intrigue. It's rare, I've never met anyone with my condition, let alone a doctor who has met someone. This invisible pain is lonely and impossible to explain.

Invisible Pain

Invisible, because it can't be seen. Invisible, because after 6 years I have learned how to fake it. I smile and present an engaged demeanor. Invisible, because I don't wear a sign that says, "I'm currently experiencing a 6 on my pain scale." A sign might help my closest of allies, my wife, but it will only isolate me further as they will treat me as fragile. As I write, this I'm a 7. Could you write with a pain level of 7? My tolerance has gone way up. The pain is here and I need to live on so the level matters not. It just is.

Dru!

Distraction via Pain

I'm not fragile, I'm just occupied. I'm constantly struggling for continuity of thought. The pain is like a child that just keeps asking why when all you want to do is get dinner cooked. It takes energy to fake it, push through it, and ignore it. So I often arrive home crushed. Safety! But those who live with me have to carry some of my load. So they have an invisible suffering too.

Art in My Pain

Lee Morley

So now, as of today, I am committed to finding the art in the pain. I live in an altered state therefore I can see some things more clearly and others I struggle with. What is important in life is easy for me to articulate as the pain informs me. Will I remember this current decision in 40 years? Does it matter on that time scale? The little things need to fall away and I am working on that. So the art lies with in each interaction and decision I create. Beauty comes with a life well lived. Art is a luxury I can afford but it may not be art for others. This is art for myself and their it remains.

Seeing bumps like a child, Thrilling!

A child traveling, thinks bumps in the road are a thrilling part of the trip.  Most adults traveling think bumps are to be avoided and when they do hit a bump are not thrilled.  If too many bumps are encountered we become frustrated, annoyed, intolerant and eventually just mad at the road.  And anyone on it.

I seem to have a lot of bumps, it feels like more than average.  They are exhausting me and have beaten me down.  I'm frustrated and annoyed.  I'm mad and quick to attack.  I want to give up but then I think of my family and how much they need me to be happy.

So now, at this moment, I am posting a missing child poster for my inner child who thinks bumps are thrilling.  I'm printing hundreds of flyers, tacking them to poles, showing them to strangers and posting them to the web.  I have new resolve (way to ruin that word Pres. Bush) to find him some how for my family's sake.  He can't be gone or it's hopeless.

If I could locate him, I know I would be that much closer to happiness.  With this many bumps and the right child-like attitude my life could be thrilling, more thrilling than average.  Where did he go?  How did I lose him?   When exactly was the moment I changed my view on bumps in the road?

I will continue to look for him but until he shows up I'm going to practice happiness by bluffing it.

From this moment forward I am actively choosing to find bumps in my road Thrilling!  I will scream out load, throw up my hands and then roll with laughter at being caught off guard.  I will turn the wheel, jerking back and forth making sure not to miss a potential bump/thrill.

So for all of you, (Family, friends, and even others who happen to be traveling on the same road) buckle up and hang-on because I am sick of being frustrated by bumps to the point of avoiding them.  I'm going to drive like a mad man drunk on the thrill of the bumps in my road hitting every single one.  Bring on the bumps.