Spent most of the day the other day just making up NPCs and locations for what may eventually be a new Pathfinder (D&D 3.75) setting for me.
Every now and then the “I should be out doing something” or “I should be doing something productive” guilt would hit me. I’d look around, look at what I was doing and go “Nah, I’m really happy doing this right now. This is fun.”
So really, that’s the take-away folks. When you’re doing something you enjoy, even if that is as simple as reading or sitting on the porch enjoying the day; Stop. Put away the guilt, let the stress flow out and just say “this is a good moment” and then stay in it.
Is that really the take away, though? I’m thinking more about what Chicken Fingers said:
I’m the same way. I’ve had periods of my life where things, on a fundamental level, were pretty miserable. During those times, I’ve certainly had plenty of those happy moments. But they’re fleeting, and it doesn’t seem like they really matter all that much.
If there is a take away for me, it’s probably more this:
Maybe it’s about recognizing what kinds of situations that I remember as happy, even if I didn’t feel that way at the time. Then, if I find myself in a similar situation, I can tell myself: “Quit your complaining. You’ll look back on this as a happy time later.”
This is why I play guitar. It is something that gets me “into the moment” more reliably than most anything.
By doing that, I am more familiar with what it means to be happy in the moment. Often, when I am doing other activities, I am more likely to recognize that feeling inside them.
Happiness is weird like that. I’ve suffered from chronic depression most of my life. In 2014, I had a miscarriage, and my marriage and employment prospects took a nose dive. I was in a bizarre state of depression where I had almost no emotional reaction to anything and didn’t care about anyone. It was almost pleasant. I consider this to be one of the worst years of my life.
One year later, my husband graduated and we moved back to our home state. I went through a crippling, suicidal depression, and then had an emergency gall-bladder surgery where I almost died, and then had a bunch of seizures where I couldn’t drive for six months, I ended my relationship with my mother, and was put on a terrible anticonvulsant medication that made me sleep and hate myself. In the middle of all of that, I remember turning to my husband and saying, ''I’m so glad 2014 is over with." It’s so freaking weird, but it all seemed temporary and like everything was fundamentally okay. I would describe that year, and this one, as one of the happiest we’ve had.
The most obvious and critical difference is that after we moved back home, we had a social and family network, something we did not have living out of state. We also both have jobs we like. It is amazing how those two things could make such a difference in our perceived sense of happiness, regardless of what was going on moment to moment.