Blogebrity

Happiness is...

This month, Judith HeartSong asks us to explain to her what happiness is. If you want to give your take, go here to post your entry (and don't forget to comment, if you participated!)

Happiness.
Let the word roll off your tongue.

Dictionary.com defines happiness as:

hap·pi·ness: [hap-ee-nis]
–noun
1. the quality or state of being happy.
2. good fortune; pleasure; contentment; joy.
[Origin: 1520–30; happy + -ness]

—Synonyms 1, 2. pleasure, joy, exhilaration, bliss, contentedness, delight, enjoyment, satisfaction. Happiness, bliss, contentment, felicity imply an active or passive state of pleasure or pleasurable satisfaction. Happiness results from the possession or attainment of what one considers good: the happiness of visiting one's family. Bliss is unalloyed happiness or supreme delight: the bliss of perfect companionship. Contentment is a peaceful kind of happiness in which one rests without desires, even though every wish may not have been gratified: contentment in one's surroundings. Felicity is a formal word for happiness of an especially fortunate or intense kind: to wish a young couple felicity in life.

I don't think of happiness as something that is necessarily hard to find because if you stop and think, you can almost always find happiness in the littlest things. Happiness is so much more than a good paycheck, happiness is so much more than that job promotion, and the newest technology.

To me, happiness is the first time you see a shooting star, that feeling in your stomach when you reach the top of a roller coaster, and the first time you hear a baby laugh. The giddy euphoria of a first kiss.

Happiness is the first dive into a pool, feeling the water glide over your skin seamlessly and the smell of fresh baked pie wafting from your kitchen. It's home made lemonade on a hot summer day and the cool spring breeze through the open windows. It's listening to the rain pound off of your roof late at night and the smell of fresh cut grass, paired with the sound of little ones laughing while playing freeze tag.

Happiness is making love with your fingers clasped, mouths touching and the smirk of embarrassment when you see that hickey on your neck. It's falling in love, holding hands, and first dates. It's long talks with old friends, and text messages with family. It's letters in the mail and packages at your doorstep and smiles from your neighbor.

Happiness is spending hours on a Sunday, lounging in your pajamas. It's a warm fire and hot cocoa in the winter and full days spent reading a favorite book. It's moments when you feel like a child, such as sledding on a brisk, wintry day or ice skating while holding hands with the one you love.

Happiness is the smell of the rain in the summer, and the feeling of the sand between your toes. It's hot scorching days in July where the sun never seems to fade, and picnics on the lake. It's fireworks and the smell of hamburgers on the grill. It's sticky fingers from a Popsicle, and becoming enthralled in a little league baseball game.

Happiness is a puppy kisses, and tails wagging at full speed. It's a cat's purr, and a flutter of a fish tail. Happiness is the sunsetting softly, while drinking a glass of wine. Happiness is music, in the form of anything I can get my ears on, it's a story of love, of loss, of faith, and hope.

Happiness is finding the perfect pair of shoes, to go with that satin little black dress. It's getting a great purse for a great price. It's applying lipstick in the mirror before heading out, and the glamour that sparkles in your eyes.

Happiness is rooting for the underdog, and watching him win. It's life's small victories, and relief from injustice and ignorance. Happiness is all of these things and more, but mostly it's learning to let go of hate, and holding onto more love.

What kind of happiness do you have?

Scalding

you loved me 'cause i'm fragile,

when i thought that i was strong.

but you touch me for a little while,

& all my fragile strength is gone.

--sara bareilles "gravity"

I wake up with a start, as a scream rips through my throat. I look around, and become familiar with all the shadows in my room, as I try to steady my breathing to no avail. I hold my breath, waiting to hear someone come running to see what I was screaming about, but realize quickly that no one even heard me. I let my breath out and am shocked to hear just how shaky it sounds. I look over at the clock and watch it blink from 2:56 to 2:57 a.m. I sigh, and feel the tears prick the back of my eyes. As I swing my legs over to the side of my bed, I feel my body start to break down into a million little pieces, shattering all over my bedroom. Not again, please, no. Not another flashback,, I think, as I feel the tears start to form heavy liquid drops on my cheeks. The memories start flooding back, like banks of a river cresting for the first time.

I stand up, and walk to the bathroom. I turn on the light and ignore my hollow reflection in the mirror as I slowly turn the shower on, focusing on the bright red "H" on the handle. A hot shower will be perfect, I think to myself, as I try to stop the trembling in my body and hands. I step out of my pajama pants and pull my sweat soaked long sleeve t shirt off my head. I pull the curtain back and step into the fire hot pellets that are falling out of the shower. I can't pull myself together any longer. I start to unfold, slowly letting each tear follow their own path, as if they are in a marathon. As I watch the scarlet heat welts appear on my chest and arms, I reach over and turn the "H" even farther towards hot.

Maybe, just maybe, if I get it hot enough, I can remove the feeling of his body on top of mine or the feeling of his hand hitting my face as he does it. Maybe, just maybe, if I scald my skin, I can scald my memories of him. As I lean into the shower, I can feel my hands scrubbing ever ounce of my skin to remove the feeling I get, every now and again. Sure, those memories are few and far between, but the are still present in my mind. I'm still shivering, even as I feel the water burn my skin. I place both of my hands on the stall, and let the water slam into my face and neck. The damn breaks, and the tears start coming in full force. For every hot pellet, I start to feel a little bit of the flashback fade away. But for every little bit that fades, my mind sends another memory slamming down into my psyche.

I.
can't.
do.
this.

I tell myself over and over again. Then I start to spew hatred at myself, left and right. I am not good enough for Curt, I don't deserve him. I don't deserve to be happy, I don't deserve to let go of this pain and anger and hate and hurt.

And the rest of my body collapses in the shower, as I curl into myself on the bathtub floor, the water stinging my entire body and face. Each sob wracks my body harder than the last. After the past 10 weeks of intensive therapy, I am back to square one. I started this therapy, to try and heal a bit more. And it has done nothing but leave me helpless once again. There is a calm before the storm, I try and tell myself over, and over again, This will be worth it, it will. The panic sets in and I start to gulp in each breath like a fish out of water, choking on water as I do it. I lay my head on the side of the bathtub and quietly cry, telling myself it will be over soon. And as the first wave of panic leaves, another one comes with even more intensity.

I don't even notice the water has turned cold and that my tears have stopped. I'm just laying there, shivering and listening to my shallow and shaky breath. I feel like I'm in a daze as I slowly step out of the shower, leaving the water to run while I towel off. I take a look in the mirror and catch my face. I see her in there, I see that survivor in there. It just takes me awhile to find her sometimes. Sometimes she leaves, so the memories can take over to remind me just how hard I have worked to overcome this. To remind me that I am lucky, that I am me because of my strength, even at the darkest of times. I am proud of her, I love her, I long to be her at all times. I know she is in there, sometimes hiding, sometimes shining. I can feel her leave my body, and I can feel her return.

And long after I turned off the water, and had gotten situated in bed, I felt her merge into the pieces of me left from those memories, and make me whole again.

SPF: Hero

This weeks SPF is brought to you by Kristine. The theme is: Hero.




I obviously didn't take this photo. But isn't she stunning?

I've never really been one to have a "hero" per se. I've never worshipped celebs or had boy band obsessions as a teen. I've never really been all that into anything like that. I watched what was on tv, saw movies I wanted to see, and didn't really think much of the celebrity world. And to be honest, even now, I don't think there are a lot of "good" celebrities in this world. But Mariska Hargitay? She is one of them.

Not only is she a stunning woman, but she is a stunning giver too. After becoming "Olivia Benson" on Law & Order: Special Victims Unit, she took her character to heart became a certified rape crisis counselor and founded the Joyful Heart Foundation, a non-profit organization which aids victims of sexual abuse with various types of health and wellness programs. She also worked with the Mount Sinai Sexual Assault and Violence Intervention program, the Safe Horizons Advocacy Project, Santa Monica Rape Crisis Treatment Center, and Girl Scouts of the USA. She was the 2007 Ambassador of Lee's Denim Day, which aids to the research and cure of Breast Cancer. She also frequently participates in NBC's "The More You Know" Campaign.

She is a hero. She is someone I admire, respect, and am inspired by on a daily basis.

Who is your hero?!?

Read more entries at Singing With My Heart »