It wasn’t until halfway through my junior year of high school when I discovered my love for teaching. I had spent the majority of my high school years convinced that I would be using my writing passion at a desk job for the benefit of an advertising company or corporation. But when I first volunteered at my local elementary school, it was like a light turned on. Where I had initially stepped into my elementary alma mater to rack up some community service hours, I soon found myself not wanting to leave the kiddos that I’d watched grow throughout the year. I had found something that made me happy without there being a catch.
Being happy doesn’t mean going on extravagant trips or spending a ton of money. Finding joy is about searching for the little pieces of the bigger puzzle. We can find a piece or two at a time with simple pleasures. For me, that may include playing with dogs at the pet shop down the street or picking out a french toast bagel that’s been on my mind all morning.
In addition, other people can show us happiness through their unique perspectives and help uncover pieces of joy that were hiding in plain sight, right in front of our eyes. Without the company of others, happiness to its full potential is difficult to achieve. We need comradery, love, and comfort from our peers in order to experience everything that life has to offer.
Growing up, my mom was always the hardest one in the house to buy gifts for. It wasn’t that she didn’t like anything (in fact, she was fairly easy to please), but nothing seemed good enough for everything she did for me. It wasn’t until I was in my early teens that she revealed the secret. She told me that she would much rather have memories than ‘things.’ That threw me for a loop. Where society had trained me to want the next big ‘thing’ or what everyone else had, it was my mom that taught me how sometimes the best aspects of life are stored in our memory instead of a heavy price tag.
When I reflect on my favorite parts of my 18-year-old life, I realize how right she was. My friends know me as an avid HayDay player on my iPhone. Some might even go as far to say it’s my favorite hobby. But when I look back, none of my most special moments are spent with a screen to my face. Not one of them. I don’t think about the Amazing Amanda doll that I had to have or the Wii that I unwrapped. I reminisce on times spent dancing on my dad’s feet to A Whole New World from Aladdin. I remember laughing so hard at an afterschool camp in 2nd grade that I peed on the chair. I smile at the surprise party thrown for me on my 10th birthday and how my mom forgot to charge the tape recorder before I walked in. I think about submitting that final yearbook deadline and falling out of my chair with relief. I blush at when my seventh grade crush told me he liked the way my hair looked that day.
It’s hard to acknowledge our blessings when we think of all the horrible things that have happened. When on the phone with my parents, I’m guilty of failing to mention how I spent one night with my suitemate eating banana bread and jamming out to Hot Chelle Rae. Instead, I spend my time telling them about how my professorobviously has a personal vendetta or how I’ll never be able to figure out my computing class. If it makes us happy to talk about happy things, why do we spend so much of our time rehashing aspects of our lives that we’d much rather forget?
Happiness is love. It’s something you can look back on with a smile or step back from and feel warmth from your head to your toes. And it’s something we shouldn’t be afraid to talk about or share with others. It doesn’t take much to put a smile on someone’s face, so why not strive to do it every single day?
