When I was 16 or 17, my mother told me that happiness is the calm period between all the really bad things and the really good things.
That happiness does not live at the ends of the spectrum, but rather the middle. The middle, where it is calm and boring. Happiness does not like drama.
Today, my happiness came from finishing the body of my sweater and having it fit. From learning to do a Russian join. From sitting with Hannah while she worked on her needlepoint.
My happiness is small and quiet. It is not bigger than life or loud and exciting.
Happiness is present, and in the moment. Happiness hides when I look for it, and appears when I least expect it. When I can still myself to allow it to creep in.