Happy

I am by nature not a cheerful person. I don't do 'happy.'

But there have been moments in my life when I was happy. What those moments had in common was that I was usually alone or with a single female companion (who may have been a romantic partner or a platonic friend); that there were few if any other people around; that we were outdoors; that we and our surroundings were calm and quiet.

We might, for example, have been taking a slow drive down a country road, or sitting on a bench at Lake Hefner. I've had similar happy moments, especially last fall and summer, sitting alone in my own back yard.

You may have other things that make you happy, but these are the things that make me happy, however boring or goofy they may seem. My mother, for example, couldn't begin to grasp the idea that a person could be happy without being drunk and surrounded by other drunks. I've known other people who simply had no personal life apart from OU sports or the Dallas Cowboys.

All of these experiences, including my own, share a common failing: they are all externalities which eventually end. Romances end, and eventually the time for romance passes. Pleasant autumn days give way to gray, cold winter days. Football season comes to an end. Eventually, you have to sober up, at least for awhile. And then your happiness, predicated on external, temporary conditions, fades.

I have not mastered the ability to find happiness within, free from outside influences. I hope someday I do, but I suspect I lack the DNA for happiness.

Which is not to say I'm miserable. Life is pretty good just as it is, and I'm mostly content.