Chronic Happiness

A friend marveled at what a happy person I seem to be. She said I sound as if I’m always having the greatest fun, even when I’m bitching about something or someone (hahaha). She’s right, for the most part. I think I’ve been a happier person over-all since I moved from overseas. At mornings I’m not scrambling to beat the traffic  and. Weekends are mine to spend as I wish and I’m not all stressed out thinking already of the work that awaits me on Monday, which was how it used to be at my former company. This just proves that money – which was overflowing at my former job – doesn’t buy happiness, and conversely, the lack of it doesn’t necessarily lead to misery.

I read something about chronic depression, and this guy described it as this condition where you just don’t stop being sad. (Owww. How sad is that.) If that’s so then Clara must have a bad case of chronic happiness. This little guy just can’t stop being happy. When I think of him I see this little skinhead with a protruding belly clapping his hands and squealing wooohoo woohoo. Because this is how he is most of the time. Within minutes after I give her a serious scolding she’s throwing her arms around me and whispering some silly secret as tho i hadn’t just lost all my love and patience for him big time. Even when  I am bickering and bickering in front of her the way i very well know i shouldn’t she’d just tell us to zip my mouth and move on to whatever infinitely interesting activity she’s up to. She seems to be this very secure little person that leads me to believe that despite all Ive managed to bungle up i must have done right with this one thing (so far).

I wish I had chronic happiness. I actually get pretty sad too sometimes. I cried  when Hunter our Labrador from Didoy’s dad in Davao passed away after spending barely a year with us, a year when I wasn’t able to spend much time with him because I was overseas working. I was devastated when Mumi had to go back to Italy and one night before he drifted off to sleep Clara blurted out that she’s sure her house is all pink and asked me why she had to work so far away. It was then I was sure she really missed her and I felt bad because it’s heartbreaking enough for a perfectly grown adult to be torn away from a loved one, but for a pre-schooler to have to suffer it – it’s unimaginable. It should be outlawed. And then I was a total wreck again when Clara had her first illness, a bout of diarrhea after we tried to mix some formula in her solids.

But, like I told a friend, how can you stay sad when it’s summer and the sunflowers are all in bloom and the beaches are just waiting to be dived into? How can you be sad without committing the sin of discontent and ungratefulness when there’s so much love and beauty to go around and back again? My kind of happiness, while not chronic nor everlasting, is shamelessly cheap or even outrightly free. It’s Clara's trademark smile with her eyes getting all crinkled and a dimple on her left cheek and her tongue sticking out. Malk love notes from way back in college. Haz’ hilarious texts, complete with animated icons. A big Snickers bar all to myself. Getting a “well done” from my favorite boss. A surprise text or call or email from my old friends like Phoebe, Kaye, Randy, Malen, Jon, Mailyn. Having your college crush as the external counsel for your project.  Walking on the newly-paved road in our street on lazy Sunday afternoons, with Clara squealing at the swaying leaves in the neighborhood trees. A long day at the beach that doesn’t end until sunset. A steaming bowl of noodles on a rainy day. High heels that are surprisingly comfy and do not murder your feet outright. A good, long pedicure capped off by a nail polish in any dark shade. Finding your long gone USB in the pocket of your molding coat. My pink Kamiseta jacket with embroidery and bow that fit me even when I was pregnant. Clara’s “wacky” and “Korean” poses when she’s in the mood for pictorials. Clara’s sharing a forkful of sansrival with me, even when it’s her favorite dessert. My black leather boots from CMG that makes me feel like seriously kicking someone’s behind. A tall glass of halo-halo with two scoops of ice cream from just about anywhere. Finding a picture frame with a drawing of Noah’s Ark, perfect for our Noah Jared. A daintily-wrapped gift (tho the contents be short of spectacular). Discussing the wonders of Koreanovelas with otherwise perfectly sane people. The McDo commercial where the gang teases some poor guy to buy burger just because his shirt is tucked in or he says something in English. Boots’ giggles when we smooch his little baby-smell neck. A book by your favorite author on sale. Discovering the beauty of a little-known indie film. Somebody paying a long-forgotten debt or one you can’t summon the courage to collect. Anything Hello Kitty. Everything Coffee Prince. Ancient churches. Lovely poems, all the better if in Filipino. The musicians who play day-long in the Manila Pen lobby and one time even played Rainbow Connection, my favorite song from my childhood. A blog like this where you let it all hang out.

The list is endless.