Happiness is a Choice

Happiness is a choice.

And it's a choice that each one of us have to make every single day.

The other day, we made a snowman out of snow that fell from the sky.

It was cold and the snowflakes fell one by one.

Some of the flakes were big and they were wet and heavy.

They were blobs and blobs and blobs.

But some of the flakes were just teeny tiny little grains of snow.

And they were light and flitty and fluffy.

It was really a beautiful, fluffy day.

Everyone who stood there looking at the snow looked so happy.

But I was the one who noticed the happiness.

I always notice the happiness.

It makes me happy to see it.

It's not a rare thing for me to see a happy person.

But sometimes they don't notice me.

Sometimes I don't notice them.

And that's ok.

It is my responsibility to see them, to smile at them, and to let them know that they are making others around them happy.

Theres no way to fake the happiness.

It cannot be faked.

We've all been alive long enough to have seen fake smiles, a fake laugh, fake anger, fake tears.

Fake.

That word alone strikes fear into our hearts and scares us into silence.

Can't we just be real for a minute?

Can't we just let ourselves be?

And not only can't we let ourselves be, we should.

Because real is so much better.

Real is a flower that has been thrown in the dirt.

It will die.

It may die overnight or years later, but it will die.

But if it's been given the attention it's been given, the love it's been given, then that flower will always remember to bloom again, regardless of the adversity.

Real has been dealt to each one of us in different ways.

But it is something that none of us can fake.

Real is a smile that has been drawn on someone's face.

It's the bright, caring eyes of the woman who has given her life to take care of a toddler.

It's the worn and tired hands of the grandma who has been helping a friend.

It's the sorrow of the person who's lying in the hospital bed, dying.

Real is a hand that has been extended to a friend who needs help.

It's a hug that is given so that that friend doesn't feel alone.

It's the voice of the volunteer that says, "Welcome to my home.

I love you."

It's a prayer from a kid who has a classmate with special needs.

It's the patience of the man who taught me how to drive.

It's the love that a couple shares for one another.

It's the hope in a person's heart that the future will be better than the past.

It's the hopes and dreams of the person who survived cancer.

It's the quiet strength of the woman who wakes up each day to make a living.

Real is the cheer of a young man who tries to pick himself up after the death of a friend.

It's the thoughtfulness of the friend who understands the struggles of the sick.

It's the compassion of the stranger who will stop to help you.

Real is the overflowing smile of the person who cannot believe someone so wonderful has been born into their life.

It's the love that a child has for their family and their friends.

It's the anger at injustice and the hope that one day, the injustice will be corrected.

It's the hope that life will be better tomorrow.

It's the warmth of the family that you know.

It's the hug of a friend who you just want to stay in touch with.

It's the joy of that family when they finally win the lottery.

It's the relief of the people who want to help but are at a loss of how.

It's the humility of the person who says they don't know how to help but secretly does.

I've said it before and I'll say it again.

I'm not really a "selfie" kind of girl.

I'm not an "I'm the bomb!

You know you want me "kind of girl either.

I'm more the, "I really need to wash this face" kind of girl.

I have no idea why, because there is no way I need to wash my face, but there it is.

I guess it's because I'm usually half asleep.

And I would rather be half asleep and happy.

In any case, I usually forget that I even have a selfie stick.