Good Stuff

I just realised how tough it is for me to write about happiness. Im not used to it. For the last six years I've kept a diary and half of that time I wrote in it every morning. 3 full pages in hand. It was a part of a course to free my creative spirit. And it worked. It is one of the best periods in my life. Except for the fact that when the book ended (like an exercise book) it quickly went back to normal. And normal was usually the same as worrying. Complaining. Being stuck. Or maybe that just happened on the way. So for the last 3-4 years I've mainly been writing about problems, issues, worries, tasks, feelings I couldn't work out and so on. Mainly because I left the blank sheets to themselves when I felt good. Why waste time writing about feeling good, when all you want to do is dance, sing, kiss or talk? I wondered. 

Having these conversations on paper with myself worked very well for me if I wanted to get over it. It still does. But my diary is getting lonely. The reason is written in the beginning of this post. 

What to write? 

Here I am! I feel great! I smile all the time. I wear turquoise and vermillion colors, dresses and skirts, funny jewelry and I shower at least once a day. On that same day I laugh 10 times  as a minimum even though I spent most time by myself. I dance, make moves and scream, joke and chat to my cats, love them, these little breathing, cuddling creatures. I call members of my family and tell them how much I love them and I started jogging again. 

(Hey that wasn't so hard!)

What is the reason? What? 

First of all it isn't A reason. Because that implies that if you take away the reason, I would go back to complaining about the past in my diary! It makes me feel safe. I can go on being happy no matter what happens because of what's changed. 

So what's changed?

Everything really. I just started being happy. And I can't seem to stop! Sometimes life suggest a reason for me to do just that, but I really don't take it seriously. I just keep on smiling. Shrug. And make a joke. 

It started when my ex left the country. Don't get me wrong. He's a wonderful person. But I got into the habbit of feeling sorry for myself. Waiting for the right time. Putting the responsibility on other shoulders than my own. And he was just there. I somehow attached feeling like that to being with him. 

When he left it was easy. I had so much fun. And it just continued... It seems like this: when you feel good about yourself, your life, good things are happening. So a lot of good things just fell down upon me. The people I meet are great, the ones I already know are fantastic, I got a great job (found a better one, so the crying lady is now left to her own tears)  I even got a new, awesome boyfriend, who gives me excuses to travel a lot and then this... I'm feeling like a singer! I'm unstoppable - so productive, am creating songs, lyrics, melodies every single day. It's a piece of cake. 

All these things is just results of being happy. But they also make me even more happy. 

Some of the results deserved a blog just for themselves. I called it www.aroomformusic.blogspot.com. And that's just the beginning. 

Rebecca