"We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness."That one paragraph contains so much bullshit, that I feel like I should be reaching for a shovel, but instead, let's just focus on the last half dozen words. These values that the Creator allegedly gave us. Life. Well, if you're reading this than you have life. If you were born, or crawled out from under a rock. You have life. You are a living organism, with a multitude of living organisms finding their home on or in your physical body. You yourself are a parasite, and I mean that in the nicest way. So...life. We got it. If we didn't it wouldn't matter anyway. All this discussion would be for naught.
Liberty. Ahem! I said liberty, as in Statue of. Here is the wonderful Wikipedia's definition.
Liberty, in philosophy, involves free will as contrasted with determinism. In politics, liberty consists of the social and political freedoms enjoyed by all citizens. In theology, liberty is freedom from the bondage of sin.There's another load of hooey for y'all. If you've read any of the latest neurological research, you may have learned that the idea of free will is becoming a thing of the past. Actual scientific research (You know. That stuff that developed your smart phone and delivered your baby. Science.) has shown that we are not consciously aware of pretty much all of our decision making. Our choices are predetermined by genetics and the environment during your upbringing.
The idea of liberty is just a salve to make us feel better about our mental slavery. We are poor deluded little monkeys, constantly searching for this thing called happiness, as if that nine letter word holds the key to all of life's mysteries.
So, happiness. That was the point of this whole post. Finding my "happy place." Here is the revered Urban Dictionary's definition of happy place:
[That] place inside all of us where we are all happy and get the warm fuzzies. our happy places are insulated from the shitheads that make up just about everyone we encounterWhere would this place be located exactly? In our brains? That brings to mind a new film, garnering all kinds of praise. It's called "Inside Out," and it portrays our emotions as little beings, running around inside our head, trying to gain control of our brain. It's homunculus times five! I suppose I shouldn't criticize the film before seeing it, but I can criticize the concept.
Maybe our happy place is situated in our soul, but then someone would have to provide me a map that points out the location of the soul, never mind the definition. In my mind, my happy place is a gated community. I use Celexa and Wellbutrin as entry ways to happiness, but they are more about being care free; not letting the big bad world drive me batty.
I also use medical marijuana as a guide to my happy place, but it's handier for helping me visualize what my happy place would be like if it really existed. Remember the pot smoking scene from "Animal House"?
Larry: [to Jennings, while high] Okay. That means that our whole solar system could be, like one tiny atom in the fingernail of some other giant being. [Jennings nods] This is too much! That means one tiny atom in my fingernail could be--Finding my happy place, like finding my niche in society, has never been easy. I've always pictured heaven -- which I don't believe in -- as being exactly like Mayberry. You know, the town where Andy Griffith and Barney kept the peace. And that's just it. It was always so peaceful, which is why I'm usually most content amidst natural surroundings. I don't fear being mauled by bears, but I do fear being burdened with debt. I don't fear getting lost in the woods, because if I start walking, I'm bound to run into a mall sooner or later.
Jennings: Could be one little tiny universe.
Larry: Could I buy some pot from you?
The trick is that once you've found your happy place, figuring out how to stay there as a permanent resident. No one wants to walk down the streets of sadness, once true happiness has been found. But would happiness even exist without sadness? Isn't happy just the yin to sad's yang? There I go getting philosophical again. I prefer contentment over happiness, because it infers acceptance of what is. One must learn to make lemonade out of the bushels of lemons that life feeds us. Luckily, I really like lemonade!
It's just about time to head to work. I'm driving today, so that I can trade a box of books in, and I'm already missing my walk. The employee who usually works this shift with me this evening, sent my boss an email Sunday evening that simply read, "I quit." Maybe she has found her happy place, and it not at the bookstore after all.
The biggest indicator that I'm not in my happy place is the fact that I'm wearing pants. If it was truly my happy place, then pants would not be necessary. And on that note....