Bear with me, I want to tell you something…

Bear with me, I want to tell you something about happiness.

Happiness is elusive, until it’s not. It’s the heat of a July Saturday, headphones on, Michael Franti grooving aliveness in your little ears. It’s your seven and a half year old yellow lab straining against her cherry-hued nylon leash and matching harness, head down, tail wagging, sniffing all the intriguing good smells that line the street.

Let me tell you something about happiness. It’s not so hard to find once you learn to get out of your own way, when you allow yourself to fall down and get sweaty and stop looking so damn perfect all the time.

Happiness is strappy, rubber-meets-the-road Keens pounding fast and focused on the pavement. It’s black yoga pants that make your ass look great, paired with your favorite fuschia sports bra holding the girls firm and high, belying their forty-one years.

Happiness is stepping outside into the August sunshine and steam-laced air, stretching and moving that body of yours. It’s shaking off the aches and pains and crunchy feelings that come from sitting behind a desk and staring at a computer screen for fifty or so hours a week, every week. It’s releasing those perpetually stiff shoulders that remind you daily your commute is too long and you still hate it.

Happiness is in the little things. It’s the juicy fire engine red-streaked tomato patch and bright yellow squash blossoms you stumble across when walking through a new neighborhood for a change. It’s in the warm fuzzy head and wet nuzzle of your dear doggie, a shelter rescue who did more to save you than you did for her.

Happiness is the way the sun streaks high across a turquoise sky on a September fall day, a precious gift made more so in its autumn fleetingness. It’s watching the leaves turn orange and then slip from their branches one by one, as October gives way to November and winter beckons to you with its chilly fingers.

Bear with me, I want to tell you something about happiness. I’ve spent my whole life trying to find it in the big things – a new job, a nicer car, more money, a stable relationship – only to find it’s been peeking out shyly from behind the curtains all along, an impish sprite ready to play.