Last weekend I had an unusual experience. I felt happy. Perfectly and unabashedly happy.

And I felt that way for like, a whole hour or so!

Right now you’re either feeling sorry for me, or you’re wondering if I’m one of those malcontents for whom happiness is as elusive as watermelon in New England during the winter (but don’t get me started on this hideous fact, really, you don’t want to get a watermelon addict started on her inability to get her hands on her seedless, crunchy obsession for months on end……).

But I’m not, I just feel like happiness is a like trying to hold a fish, you can’t do it for long on account of the band of thieves who want to steal it.

Worrying is one of the worst happiness pickpockets. Because let’s face it, we are all worrying about all the things, all the time. Like what? Well, we worry about our kids, our parents, and other family members–how they’re doing, if they’re happy (that word again), if they have love and friends and meaningful work, and purpose, enough money, and healthy health. We Worry about ourselves in the same way, our careers, our bodies, our marriages/partnerships/love lives, our social lives, our financial lives, our intellectual lives, our diets, our dogs. Then there is the wake-you-up-in-the-middle-of-the-fucking–night worries. Mine consist of things like the mammoth climate change CRISIS, the Grand Canyon sized political, financial racial, and gender identity division in our country, and of course the absurd and insane abortion ban. My bonus round includes things like,

–If Trump is elected again, how will I get someone to put me in one of those induced comas until he’s out of office?

–Why do I have cellulite?

–What can I do about homelessness at 3:00 AM?

–When will ALL the rescue dogs get rescued?

–And of course, what are we going to do about New England’s winter watermelon crisis…..

I mean, was Bobby McFerrin right

when he sang, “Don’t Worry, Be Happy?

Another happiness zapper is the Unexpected Disaster. These range from a pop-up health catastrophe that can be managed, but demands immediate and unplanned action, to your, or a loved one’s more serious heart attack/cancer diagnosis/broken body part. Then there is the parade of major life-changing emergencies, like car accidents, deaths, lost jobs, lost loves, a lost homes, bouts of anxiety, depression, name your mental health issue du jour……

So, you see, at least for me, there are a number, a pretty big number, of things that can get in the way of me feeling consistently happy. So, last week when I went on a hike with my husband and dog Daisy on a sunny, blue sky, NO HUMIDITY day followed by an unusually delish lunch outside, and then home for a super nice night, while thinking about how both my kids were scoring fairly high on the mommy-meter of doing well IN THAT MOMENT (because you know, this is subject to change at any moment) , I just suddenly felt a shot of happiness go through me, like a shooting star. For at least 60 minutes, I WAS HAPPY, all seemed right in the world. Cue the harps.

Of course, that elusive state didn’t last long, and abruptly ended when a host of worries came charging in like a gang of rowdy frat boys.

But just that hour of unadulterated happiness made me feel heaps and heaps of gratitutde! And it also made feel greedy, because I realised I wanted more of those moments.. So, when my friend told me she was reading a new book by Oprah and Arthur C. Brooks called The Art and Science of Getting Happier, Build the Life you Want, I Kindled it up before she could even finish her sentence. I just started it, and I can’t wait to see what tips and tricks it offers on becoming happier. Because, let’s face it, who doesn’t want to be happier. I mean, even if you’re happy are you really going to turn down being happi-ER? I don’t think so. I’ll report back. In the meantime, how do you do happiness? Let me know in the comments. All happiness advice and experience welcomed, encouraged, and happily (See what I did there!) appreciated.

When I was walking Daisy today I was noticing all the flowers that are giving off end of summer 23 vibes. Some already fading with petals dropping to the ground, others ebullient and narcissistic. And yet others, just coming to life on autumn’s clock.

As we were making our way to the dog park, I noticed this old wooden fence, a picket fence that would be in front of the perfect house with 2.5 kids, you know the one? And it was pretty beaten up, chipped away paint, probably on the owner’s list of Things to Replace That I Don’t Have Money to Replace. Wound around it’s rickety pickets were delicate and vibrant hot pink roses. The look of the old and the bold, the tender and the seen-better-days just stopped me in my tracks.When I finally walked by, I wanted to go back for a picture, but Daisy was anxious to get on with the walking part of the walk, so I resisted.

But what I started thinking about is how everyday is made up of the coming up and going out, the shine and the shit, or put simply, the bad and the good . We see the beauty of a bride and groom from afar, never knowing that the blushing bride had lost her first husband to a tragic car crash. Or you admire someone who buys a house, but don’t see they work on fixing its faulty parts every weekend for the next three years. Or you watch a go-getter go get all the way up the ladder, but you never glimpse how his oe her spouse left them on a rainy night in April, or how they never had anyone in their lives that fit the definition of “friend” in Merriam Webster’s big volume.

But you know, the yin and yang is what gives the world its balance. Seeing those roses on that old fence made me understand how one enhanced the other in the same way a rough path makes you appreciate the freshly rolled black tar pavement of a newly laid street. The fears that haunt you in the black of night disappear into a sun-filled morning of possiblity. The impossibly ugly.and hearty sadness of death is paled by the arrival of a new baby who cries from deep in their tiny lungs, “hello, world.”

I’m grateful that I’ve grown to understand that failures, bad days, questionable dates that could bore one into a welcoming coma, crushing defeats–personal and otherwise–failed classes and love affairs and jobs, were always providing the manure that would make the good days, the successes, the adventures, friends and love that much more. That much more beautiful.