I had a very strange experience the other day.
I was laying on the trampoline, it was about 2 in the afternoon, fully committed to taking a nap, blanket underneath me, a dog here and there, the weather a perfect 78.4 degrees, the sky blue, a light breeze a string of clouds moving a long the horizon, one after the other, ... And all of a sudden I realized I was completely content. It wasn't gratefulness, (I am, don't get me wrong), but it was an intense feeling of happiness. If the tree had blown over and killed me I could have cared less. Blissfully content, not that everything was perfect, or I didn't have any aches or pains, or broken machinery or weeds or jobs to be done. It wasn't nirvana because the world was perfect, and it sure wasnt' because I was perfect, but it was. The bhudda was right, you can reach enlightenment sitting in a lazy-boy chair, or on a trampoline for that atter. But it did make me think, we are so much searching for happiness, that it is so easy to not experience it when it does come around. Take a break sometime in your pursuit of happiness and just BE happy. More happiness: two tractors that work: that start and move when you pull some levers. Joy to the world. The other day Johnnie broke down in the middle of the field, it started to run really poorly and when I opened the choke it kind of sputtered and died. And I was just having so much fun. Eventually I diagnosed and fixed it by putting some more gas in it. That was the cheapest fix ever, was I happy again. Happiness in having stuff that works. Happiness is also a short memory. And then there are the chickens and their coops. I get the biggest kick out of those chickens, at last count I had not lost one chicken to wildlife! Tadaaaaa. That electric netting really works. Happiness makes up in height for what it lacks in length. Happiness is the meaning and the purpose of life, the whole aim and end of human existence, according to aristotle, but then again, just being stupid selfish and healthy are also good for happiness.
0 Comments
|
AuthorPieter Los, born in Scotland, raised in the Netherlands, lost in the USA. . Archives
May 2015
Categories |