When I’m unhappy, I feel like I’m doing life wrong. I’d rather be happy. But is happiness the point of life, or is there more to it? If I pursue happiness, mine first then for those around me, is that selfish? But if there’s a bigger purpose, then what about people with Alzheimer’s or dementia who can’t recall recent experiences or make plans?
Toxic positivity is a real thing.
Part of the inspiration for this post was: I am a grown up and I can do whatever I want with the next hour. What will I do? What does that say about me? What should I do with my life? What kind of person does that make me? Am I shallow for just wanting to experience as many new things as possible? I don’t think so, I think that’s just my genetics expression themselves. But that raises questions about free will, and I’m not willing to ponder that this morning. I’d rather spend the next hour doing something fun.
If you’re not already, go do something fun!
I’m going out to lunch with friends. Tomorrow, I’ll go springboard diving. Not because it matters, just because I enjoy it.