Happiness poem (yes, you read that right)

“Happy people aren’t mean.”

—my yoga instructor

 

We’re not supposed to be happy

anymore. It’s all joy.

Joy’s all the rage.

 

Unless it’s your birthday, then the cards say:

“Enjoy doing whatever makes you happy!”

or “Be happy today!” or simply

“Happy Birthday!”

 

Happiness has less pressure

than joy, just a moment to dance

around the room to your favorite song

 

or finish the Fritos

get in the car and drive toward nearest scenic overlook

where happiness waits for you to veer.

Comments

  1. Agreed, the idea of hopping in the car to a scenic overlook Someplace Else always makes me happy. Fritos? I’d take Oreos.

  2. 😀 Oreos=happiness

    “Joy’s all the rage.” I like those two words used in the same sentence.

  3. Oh, wow, that last word.

  4. Love this. But I sometimes wonder if joy isn’t much more deep-seated than we like to think and if it might work independently from happiness. I think it’s possible (at least at moments) to experience joy in the midst of deep sorrow and loss. NOT in the sorrow and loss, but despite it? Usually, it’s small. Just a tiny blip, a reminder that there is more than the bleakness we see at that moment. And somehow, it can be enough. At least once in a while. Thanks for this, Megan.