Goodbye

Cliché surrounds making yourself happy: the ‘do it because you’re the only person that matters’ type ethic is used to fill blank walls with similar sounding quotes, and appears meaningless and almost laughable that somebody needs a daily reminder to make themselves happy. That’s what it’s about, isn’t it? The pursuit of happiness. That’s what counts, and what matters. Whichever method you find tranquillity in pursuing this ongoing journey towards finding fulfilment, satisfaction and contentedness, you physically cannot let anybody tell you otherwise. If you do, it ceases to be an individual journey, and ruins the ethic entirely, however cliché, it must be individual.

It starts with a ‘lightbulb’ type epiphany: you’re sitting in a car doing 140mph on the German-autobahn and somebody in the seat next to you tells you that they don’t care about a life changing decision you’ve made, or you’re wandering through a field and stepping over a small brook, and the wind which rushes through you shifts your mentality, or you’re deep in the metropolis, surrounded by people following a similar pursuit (however many of those metropolis dwellers confuse money for happiness) and you look up at the skyscrapers and realise it’s futile. It does not matter where you are when you gain this certain light, but what matters is that it usually occurs at a critical juncture in your life, at a crossroads when you’re looking around and observing, trying to make a snap decision which exact route to take.

Scarily, it is individual, so intimate and personal that you fail quite to put into words just how this scene or scenario has made you feel and changed your entire outlook as a result. It’s been a long time coming but hits you as a wave of rushing cold water, soothing and refreshing, but cold nonetheless. You realise there are certain aspects of your current life that you have to change and other avenues that you have to pursue, deciding in an impromptu fashion to take a small cobbled street to the left of you in the hope that it’s quicker to get where you’re heading.

As you pierce the shell of an egg with your two thumbs in order to crack it, you don’t think about the shell being torn apart and ripped in two. Instead, you think about the bright yellow yolk inside, moulded into the white about to trickle into your pan of melting butter. Indeed, as you slowly start to cook your egg, and grind some peppercorns on top, place the bread in the toaster, you realise that the splitting of the shell was necessary to accomplish this. Similarly, coming to a realisation that there may be certain people or things in your life which at the moment seem vital to who you are, but to get where you want to be, may become a hindrance is a difficult thing to comprehend. It cracks your outer skin slightly, and slowly makes its way down to your core, perhaps even influencing your important decisions.

This is the danger with an individual pursuit like happiness; you must, to a certain extent, dwell on the equal amount of loss and sadness before you experience any type of meaningful gain, and it remains an impossible task, to know what’s right. Putting into words such an intimate walk of life risks being so wrong, so far away from the reality of it, and what is happening in another person’s soul. That is the beautiful intricacy of the human spectrum, there is as much Individual struggle as collective struggle. Perhaps that is the reason why many people choose to laugh at a constant reminder that you have to do something to make yourself happy; seeing such words which have been unexperienced cracks their shell slightly, only insignificantly, it is a mere dent on their exterior, nothing has quite penetrated their being yet. Without realisation and comprehension, however difficult, what hope can there be of action?

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An Aura

An aura consumes you, it takes over your soul. It isn’t negative, it’s simply overwhelming and all-encompassing. Certain notes of the piano which just seem to ‘hit the spot’. A sequence of words in a completely illogical order that transpire into a profound, and deeply meaningful sentence. You stare out over a calm sea, standing on the edge of a headland, and all you can see is a small sailboat, gliding, being taken by the wind. The sudden sense of quiet you feel whilst trudging through untouched snow in the middle of the forest.

I cannot hope to explain to you what all of these scenes have in common, not precisely however. What I can tell you is this, they are all auras, the touch you cannot quite put a hand on, a feeling which you can’t shake off, not easily anyhow. Something which forces you to stop completely in your tracks and take a whole step back, sit on the floor, or stand in utter silence with outstretched arms, in awe of the whole scene. These are the moments which matter, and one’s which you must take hold of.

Putting these feelings into words is as difficult as holding air in the palm of your hands, trying to capture miniscule figments of dust and air particles in your hand. It’s impossible. Nevertheless, it’s a wave of feeling you must ride and embrace. Of course, it is extremely difficult to let the sudden sense of serenity take you surrounded by people. It’s not fitting. You must be entirely alone.

The sense I’m talking about isn’t as simple as bliss, or beauty. They are things which you can create, and easily observe. Simply go into an art gallery, you will see beauty around you, before you. Go out to dinner, somewhere nicer than usual. Your overindulgence will grant you a simple sense of bliss, but nothing more than that. Momentary sensations of sweetness, richness, smoothness, sharpness, all hit your taste buds at once. It lasts a matter of seconds, just like the sense you crave.  And still, despite the different flavours, the exquisite company and the overall wonder of the evening, there’s that sense of something missing, a sensation that you long for.

It’s peculiar, because it can be obtained in a form which is almost anti-climatic. You can certainly obtain this feeling materialistically, but, really, what good would it do? What would it achieve to say you’ve ‘made it’ because of the four-figure Rolex too heavy for your dainty wrist? Instead, it can be obtained almost spiritually, an internal harmony that becomes present as a result of various mechanisms of happiness…

The sunset you see before you will be the only sunset like that of its kind, just like every snow flake that gently lays itself upon your thinly woven, grandma-knitted gloves is individual. The contrast of romantic reds with the slightly obscure and deep oranges with the sea as you look on over the bay manages to induce the feeling that you crave, but in the most unusual fashion. The colours manage to seduce you to a point of despair. You reside yourself to the fact that nothing can get more beautiful than the way the pink sky is bound with the deep blue of the ocean. There it is. It overcomes you. Not as a caress that you deliver to a cat, it’s fur stroking in between your fingers, but it’s a sudden barrage, a tsunami, being hit by the full force of an atomic bomb.

A wave of spiritual contentedness passes through your body, swimming through your veins, filling you with a warmth that cannot be achieved by a £600,000 property in Hampshire, or a car worth a quarter of your yearly salary. You still think the same though. You’ve made it. Somehow, looking at this scene is not to dissimilar to being able to afford a wardrobe of Ralph Lauren. However, it is still oh so different. Beautifully different, challengingly introspective. No matter the clothes you wear or the business deals you manage to complete, there is a bigger picture. The entire spectrum of colour mystifies you so much so that you still have to check you’re on solid ground. The world manages to gift to you a moment of its beauty, and you have to stand, completely still and let it consume you.

The search for this type of contentedness is almost impossible on a day-to-day basis. It’s exactly that which makes it special, and so remarkable. You cannot find it, like you can find wealth and search for happiness through your significant other. Rather, this sense of beauty finds you, every once in a while, touches yourself to remind you that there is more out there than you can possibly hope to rationalise.

That’s why it flies over you in a figment, a fleeting moment of calmness. Not only would you fail to accept such constant serenity and happiness, but it would become normalised. What then, once happiness is normalised?