Happiness is...

When I was a child, happiness was a warm puppy. Or at least it was my ratty Snoopy doll my dad gave me when I was two. I carried that thing with me everywhere (I still have it, in the closet).

Now, life isn't so simple. Curling into bed with a stuffed animal isn't going to make me feel any better about a bad day; it isn't so easy to go for a long swim in the ocean, or grandma's pool; eating gallons of ice cream now requires hours in the gym; and too many margaritas, well, that leads no where good.

In reality, none of these actions actually made me any happier. Well, maybe for a little while. But instead, more and more, happiness is becoming something that you just have to choose. We choose to be bitter and unhappy, using all the tricks of the trade (food, shopping, TV, wine) to mask it. And unhappiness is such a privilege. People who live on a dollar a day don't get to choose. They have to keep moving, they have to have some optimism, or they will die, literally.

This is something I relearned this week, in New York. Listening to the commitments at CGI, talking to others in philanthropy, reading different blogs and articles, I was reminded of how lucky we are to live in America (or really any Westernized, industrialized nation). We have a choices. Choices and opportunity that the rest of the world doesn't have.

Odds are, if I had been born in Sub-Saharan Africa, India or some countries in the Middle East, I would have been married before I was 13, never learned to read, and probably living with HIV-AIDS. The odds of a girl from a family that firmly straddles the middle class, never would have been given the privilege to go university or grown up to own my own home and car. To move freely in my world; to buy what I want, when I want it; to be free of persecution and intimidation. I often take these things for granted.

I will try not to anymore. Another commitment I'm making is to seize these opportunities, to live a happier and fuller life.

Random items
Running into Meehan in the train station. Hearing how he got fistbumped by Quincy Jones.
Missing the Alicia Keys party in order to have pork belly ramen at Momofuku with Christine (much better choice)
The sheer absurdity and fun that there is an entire store dedicated to M&Ms