There are moments when I stop in the middle of whatever I’m doing and feel happiness wash through me. Every time that happens I am profoundly grateful. Happiness is a gift. It’s precious and I don’t ever want to react with anything less than full appreciation for its presence. I feel so blessed that happiness is abundant in my life.
It wasn’t always this way. There were times when I was downright miserable and could barely connect with the smallest shred of happy. I have always felt things deeply. My emotions run strong. When I mourned my parents after their deaths, the pain and sadness consumed me. I’d put on a happy face, or at least a less grief-stricken demeanor as much as I could, but the pretense exhausted me.
Even in the many non-grief years (That’s a horrible categorization but I can’t come up with a better one right at this moment.) I know now that I carried sadness with me. It was part and parcel of my eating disorder and my obesity. I truly don’t believe that it’s possible to be fat and jolly — at least it wasn’t for me, although I often played the role.
Now, I won’t pretend that my weight was the only reason for me not fully experiencing happiness. There were other factors, but I always strove to achieve happiness. I wanted it and I became willing to go to any lengths for it.
There have been things that I’ve had to come to terms with in order to realize this gift. I’ve learned that I can be happy even though I’m not in a love relationship. I’ll never have kids of my own and I’ve become okay with that too. I truly believe that this developed because of a willingness to embrace acceptance as a path to serenity and joy. By accepting what is, what I have, what is possible and not focusing on what isn’t, what I don’t have, what isn’t possible, I’m at peace with my life. In that peace, happiness grows.
I love how sometimes I just sit in this state and smile. It’s so much healthier than stewing in my own discontent. I feel lighter in spirit, rather than sucked down into a quicksand of sorrow.
I also realize that I’m fortunate. I don’t battle the disease of depression. Some people I know are struggling. I wish with all my heart that they will prevail. I hope they continue to get help and that their treatments are successful.
Their battles remind me again of the gift I’m given. I need to nurture and protect my happiness. That means continue to work on myself. If I go back to old eating and laziness habits and regain weight, more than my physical recovery will be affected. My happiness will be at risk.
I am not going to let anything take away my precious gift.
Weighty Matters 
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