Searching for Something I Cannot Identify

WARNING! DOWNER AHEAD!

As promised, I am back with something a little more profound to say.

I have been on this quest for some time now to become a happier person. There are varying opinions out there as to my general disposition; some people think I am a miserable complainer while others think I am Suzy Sunshine and can light up a room. I don't like being seen as an unhappy person. I like feeling unhappy even less. Yet I carry on, living a life of discontentment and quiet desperation. I experience very little in the way of bliss. Maybe bliss is something you grow out of.

In my quest for happiness, I am a sucker for a product that promises enlightenment and/or inner peace. Yesterday, I bought one such product. A journal called "One Good Deed A Day". 365 pages worth of good deeds with room for reflection, the book is like a guide to enjoying some simple things, loving oneself, and learning to experience gratitude. At least, this is my hope for the thing.

I had originally intended to fill the book in one page at a time from cover to cover, but I decided that it might be better if I leaf through and pick something that spoke to me on a particular day. Today I chose "Write a letter to an author you admire". Being that Bukowski and Nabokov are dead, I chose David Sedaris. That's where the exercise ended because I don't know what I would say. Perhaps after finishing this post, I'll give it a whirl. I'm terrified of coming off as over-eager.

I sometimes feel like Alanis Morissette's song "Would Not". I do all these things, and still I feel as though real happiness eludes me. I try to be zen. I try to declutter, clean, simplify. I try to take better care of myself. I try to make new friends. My life right now feels like a lot of try and fail, but still I chase after this feeling that I can't even identify or describe. I hear people talk about their husbands/wives/jobs/hobbies/children/pets/stamp collections with such joy and energy. Everything in my life that should bring me joy just ends up feeling like work.

But still I try. I hold out hope that someday everything will click. It's strange, but it feels like I'm closing in on it. Of course, that could just be me inching ever closer to catching my own tail.