My mom bought me a necklace for Christmas, a gift I selected on my own. One portion has Chinese characters. The other has the English translation: Happiness.
I chose that necklace because I thought it might remind me of what’s important. My own happiness. I lose that sometimes. I lose it in the small things, like worrying. Usually about things I can’t even control.
Like the guy who tailed me down Boston today. Or the woman who stood behind me in line for coffee yesterday, hovering mere milimeters from my back with her purse jabbing me in the hip. Or the guy at work who has his cell phone set to some ridiculous tune, which wouldn’t be a big deal if it didn’t go off every 15 minutes.
I waste a lot of energy on sweating the proverbial small stuff. I also send my blood pressure sky-rocketing in those instances. Or at least I imagine I do.
I’d like to find a little peace with myself. To become comfortable with me. To get to the point where losing the manual for my camera doesn’t freak me out and have me ripping apart every drawer in my office. That would be happiness, I tell ya.
Where, oh where, does that calming, relaxing center of my being reside? It’s in there somewhere. Finding it isn’t my new year’s resolution. It’s my life’s ambition. But if I find it in 2006, it’ll be my best year yet!