… boring? Are happy people boring? When I think about the people I like to talk to, the blogs or message boards I like to read, even the news I want to share with friends, it’s usually not happy. When something bad or irritating happens, I can’t wait to share it. Equally, I like to hear other people fuss and bitch. When something good happens, I find it awkward to share; I always feel like I’m saying, “Hey, look at me! Look how great my life is!” And when you do that, it seems like people don’t really listen.
This week, I have felt peaceful and content. I found my gratitude and, at least for now, the happiness of just being me. I’ve sent out good things into the universe, without the hope of getting the back, and I find myself smiling for no reason. Today, I saw a friend sitting outside grading papers. It was such a peaceful picture, and, knowing this friend, I knew how much she was enjoying being outside, that I smiled. I smiled (like an idiot, I must admit) when I saw the giant Santa hanging on the middle school office door. It was such a ridiculous smile, that I’m almost glad no one saw it. Hell, I even smiled at a kid that I do not, we shall say, have a particular fondness for. Just because he looked kind of cute today.
Does anyone want to hear about it when you’re happy? That’s not to say we’re awful people and enjoy the suffering of others, especially our friends and family. But conversations about all the good things in life don’t seem to take as long as the ones where we’re fussing about something or someone. People can commiserate with a bad friend or boss, a yucky situation, or something stupid that your husband did (not MY husband mind you). But when you say, “Nothing’s wrong- life is great…,” it’s almost a conversation stopper. Others feel bad bringing you down. Or they think you might not want to hear about their problems. Or they think you’re a hippie. And people still don’t like hippies.
Tonight, I hope to be knitting with a friend of mine who I don’t spend much time with. It makes me happy to think about. But if we don’t, it’s okay because I know I’ll hang out with Dave and that will be just as wonderful.
And that leaves me wondering- is happiness boring? Would you rather read a blog about me being angry or irritated? I don’t know. I find myself steering away from the bitchy messages on my message board- the ones with people complaining about their husbands or in-laws or kids. But the non-bitchy ones… they’re not as amusing. They’re almost… boring.