Morning? I open my eyes. Light seeps in around the dark curtains, spills into the room. Morning.
Time? I squint at the clock, not that time actually matters. What a privilege to know it is entirely up to me. I can get up at 4:44 a.m. or 8:09. There’s no boss in my life, no time clock, no small children to urge me into the day.
Those were good years but oh golly, the choice of when my toes hit the floor was never a choice. How I appreciate the freedom of choice I have nowadays! The thought makes me smile, and that reminds me to affirm, “I choose to be happy” and so I am. I am reaching for the dressing gown at the foot when a new thought spills into my mind like the light seeps into the bedroom. It occurs to me that happiness is our birthright.
Happiness is our birthright?
That gives me pause! Our birthright? Really?
Himself was remarking just the other day about what a happy child our grandson (age 18 months) is, “not that he has anything to be not happy about.” Is our little guy simply manifesting his birthright? I have no idea, I really don’t.
However, Happiness as our birthright is a happy thought, isnt it? Or, possibly not. As I mulled on it throughout the course of the day, I found it didn't have the same happy-making power every time.
Why not, you ask?
As I mentioned here long ago, I have a melancholic turn of mind, have had as long as I can remember. Unlike our wee grandson, I was not (as I recall) a happy child. I dearly wish that there were someone, anyone, of my previous generation still alive in the world, so I might ask them if that’s true. What sort of 18-month-old was I? As a professional auntie (‘Auntielaine’) and more recently a professional grandma (‘Granelaine’) I’ve worked with enough small children to know that not all toddlers are happy people. Some are, while some are serious and others seem to be mostly puzzled by life.
It appears that we come into this life with our own unique attitude. Is it because of body-chemistry, maternal influence, environment, past lives? I have my own pet theories about why this may be, perhaps you do too, but really, who knows? Not me, that's for sure.
Whether we are born with our go-to attitude or develop it early on, the question remains: Is Happiness really our Birthright, as my early-morning inspiration suggested?
As I repeated the idea to myself over the course of the following few days, sometimes I questioned it, sometimes I believed it, and other times, I’m sorry to say, I believed it and came all-over melancholic and victim-ish, wondering why I missed out on my birthright, poor me, alackaday. Sheesh! Who wants to go there? I decided to toss out that silly thinking, and go with this instead:
Happiness is my Birthright.