Reflection: What Happiness Means To Me

For those of you who I have allowed close enough for long enough to know the unfiltered me, the vulnerable me, I have been on a heavy spiritual detox and healing quest for years now. Everyday holds a multitude of opportunities to learn about myself: my triggers, my fears, my expectations, my limits, my boundaries, my hopes and dreams, and my purpose, or pursuit, in this life. Though I don't always have the energetic compacity to use every opportunity that comes my way, I do my best to use most of them, and that's okay.

I recently had major surgery; The full healing process will take six months. I have a lot of time to read, journal, and reflect. I have been waking up around 4:30 AM the past few days; I start with a cup of hot ginger, lemon, and honey tea. Then, I go for about a twenty, to thirty, minute walk as prescribed by my doctor.

Yesterday, my sixth day home from the hospital, I was finally able to go on a real walk. Previously, I had only been able to walk a short distance from the apartment community. But this day I was finally across Schroeder Rd and into the suburbs. It was such a gorgeous day: above sixty degrees, hardly a cloud in the sky. There was a gentle, light breeze that periodically cooled me. This walk was a big turning point for me in my physical healing post surgery and also a large stepping stone on my emotional and mental ongoing healing process.

I wont get into much detail in this blog about my surgery, but being in the hospital for six days was very difficult for me. I love being outside; I love being with nature. And I do not do well with physical pain.

The physical healing process from this surgery is extremely painful. I am currently still somewhat bound to my chair which causes a sense of feeling robbed of my independence. For about a week I was so consumed by the pain and lost of freedom that I was emotionally forgetting who I was. But when I finally crossed Schroeder Rd into the suburbs on my walk, I felt light again. The feeling of the sun beating on my shoulders, warming my entire body was nostalgic. Though I still can't move as quickly as I would like to, I was moving and I'm improving and that's what matters most!

Today, my seventh day home, I went on the earliest walk I have been on since returning from the hospital. I woke up at 4:30 AM, had my tea and avocado toast, put a light coat on, and headed for the outdoors! The sky was a faint blue tone; The moon was very present, a little over half full. A few birds were up, calling to each other and searching for breakfast. But other than that, it was so quiet. I love the quiet. I love the early ass morning hours; I love being outside before the world is awake. It's still just chilly enough to cover up and momentarily regret not wearing a light scarf when the breeze comes rolling through. But it's not cold enough to run back inside. There are maybe two or three cars on the street who's passing are quickly forgotten in the silence of the morning.

The sun hadn't quite made its way up to say good morning as I made my way across Schroder Rd, a race I love winning. I cut through the backyard of the church on Yorkshire Rd and made it half-way up Friar Ln. I don't know if it was anxiety or a general concern for my sleepiness, but something inside of me said, "let's not do the full walk just yet." So instead of circling around the loop, I passed a few more houses and turned back. I took the long way home, instead of cutting through the yard behind the church, and used that time not to reflect, but to simply be present. I focused my consciousness on the soles of my feet which were wrapped in mustard yellow socks and red-brown moccasins. I focused on the pressure of each step and felt grateful to be able to do this on my own again. As I approached Schroder Rd off Saybrook, I noticed the eastern sky above the houses to my right was lighting up bright orange. I remember saying out loud to myself, 'my bedroom window has the best view of the sunrise.' I smiled at the feeling of knowing what a blessing it is to watch the sun appear in the horizon.

I noticed a dark, wide tree in the front yard of someone's house. It looked grey in the dim morning light. I analyzed the way the tree bent over Saybrook Rd, reaching for the trees in the yard of the church. I read a book a while back, The Hidden Life Of Trees, by Peter Wohlleben. In the book, there is mention of trees liking other trees. This is said to be proven by the way branches grow or "reach" for other trees. I stood in the middle of the street following the branches with my eyes to see exactly what, or who, this tree was reaching for. I was delighted to notice that the trees across the street were reaching back!

I dashed across Schroder, onto Kessel, and made my ascent home (I live on a hill). As I walked home, I remember feeling calm and proud of myself for getting ahead of the day. I held onto this delightful feeling as I made my way up the long hill to my apartment building. Once I reached the door, I stopped and turned away. I stared out into the morning sky to the East again. Through squinting eyes, I could see the sun was bright yellow at its core with its circumference burning a fiery orange that exploded into the light blue sky. While I observed the sun, two cars to my left gently rolled out of the community and I was once again left alone in the empty, still space of the morning.

Before looking away from the sky I felt a sudden urge of happiness and enlightenment. Smiling, I said to myself as I turned away, "I'm guna do some witchy shit today."

I fully intended on creating a spell jar, something that made me feel happy and excited. But instead, I was drawn to a book I purchased at Barns & Noble a few months ago that I hadn't opened yet. The title is "Happy Witch" written by Mandi Em. I opened this tiny, pink treasure thinking I would find a cool spell to make a spell jar. Instead, the book prompted me for a journal entry: A Ritual to Define Your Happy. These were the journal questions: What does happiness mean to you? What's the operational definition? Up until now, did you think it was possible to obtain. Why or why not? Think of a specific time when you were happy, What did that happiness look like? How did it feel? What does the happiest version of you look like? How do they respond to triggers? How do they feel? What do they believe to be true? I will not answer every question in this blog. Only the stuff I think is important for you to experience.

Feel free to journal your answers as well!

What does happiness mean to you?

My journal response:

Happiness is a state of being, a fortified mind set that mentally states, "no matter what happens outside of me, I have found the key to peace."

I don't think happiness means smiling all the time. I don't think it's natural to be in a great mood 24/7. For example, when someone we love passes away, we feel sadness, lost, maybe even emptiness. The sensation, or feeling, of being happy is replaced by other emotions that I would describe as, and hope would be, temporary. But just because the feeling of being happy is temporarily replaced by another emotion, doesn't change the foundation of ones happiness, or at least, it shouldn't.

I think horning all my emotions is a great practice to build the foundation of my happiness. When I honor and accept my current emotional state, I honor and accept myself in that current state. When I honor and accept myself in those current states as they evolve and change over time, I honor and accept my growth, path, and my story. This progression ultimately leads to happiness because I am getting closer to the person I have always been under the rubble of societies wildly inappropriate and destructive standards.

Just as I should honor my ever changing state of emotional consciousness, I should accept and expect that what makes me happy may change I develop. However, I believe there is a blanket personality trait in me that will never change and I have no interest in attempting to change it: I love nature. I love picking up rocks and sticks while I'm hiking. I love sitting next to trees and reading books. I love, love laying in the sun until I am stinky and sweaty. I love swimming! I love relaxing in a body of water. These hobbies and activities make me happy, or at least, they conjure a sense of happiness. This type of happiness is like the electricity in a wire; it is necessary for recharging. But without happiness in self-acceptance, there is nothing to charge.

Overcoming sadness or any type of struggle makes me explosively happy (once I've overcome the obstacle, of course). Picking myself up when the spirits of sadness, anger, or regret want to keep me down makes me feel accomplished, which in turn makes me happy. This is the type of happiness I would define as the foundation of what holds up my house.

The ability to participate in a stressful situation whether physical, emotional, or mental, and not try to escape it, but instead be present in it, find some type of meaning in it, some lesson, and learn from it, is powerful! Harnessing that type of power makes me happy. It makes me happy because I spent many of my precious years living with a sympathetic nervous system in full swing. This caused me to always be a victim which meant I was always suffering. I constantly looked for an outside source to heal me, to save me from my misery. The hero from the outside world never came.

Somewhere between realizing nobody could change me and nobody would change me, I decided I would change me. It is a slow process. But the subtle discoveries of every puzzle piece of who I am makes me happy. Piecing myself together is an art form and art makes me happy.

I suppose the operational definition of what makes me happy is this:

The subtle discoveries of who I am.

Up until now, did you think it (happiness) was obtainable. Why or not why?

Two years ago, no. Today, yes. I was a completely different person back then. I honor her because she got me here. And she only could have gotten me here if she, too, believed she could obtain happiness. So I suppose I have always believed I could be happy; it was just tucked away in the subconscious brain back then.

I refer to my past self as 'her' but I do not see us as completely separate identities. We are different because we do not think the same, we do not depend the same, and we do not expect the same. We also do not have all the same habits or thought patterns, nor do we share the same hobbies. And after my surgery, we no longer share the same body!

What we do share is hope and faith that it would and will continue to get better. And by it, I simply mean the concepts and physical crutches that kept me (and to some degree still do) in the dark from my potential.

Who I am now is not quite the phoenix, but no longer the scorpion. I would place myself, a star child born under the sun of the scorpio constellation, at the stage of the eagle. I am coming out of the woods! Better yet, I have grown in courage and eagerness to finally enter the woods, the forest, the jungle of who I am! I am learning to defend my happiness and the source of my happiness that I drink from. I am learning that I am not selfish for filling my cup and exploring my curiosity, witchcraft being one! I have always been a witch. I just never labeled myself. But I am done worrying about the feelings the title, 'witch' might conjure in someone. I am a witch. It doesn't change me, nor does it change the way I treat others. And if it did, it would be for the better, because that is one of my pursuits as a human. Being a witch means being me and being me means being kind, thoughtful, using reason, and empowering myself. Because when I empower myself, I influence others to do the same.

And that makes me happy.

-Celina Joan

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