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I sit and listen in amusement to the chitter chatter of a crowded commuter train. Talk of work and last night’s TV programmes and the latest dilemma in someone’s life intermingle to form an overwhelming noise. Add to that the pulsating beats from music players turned a little too high and mobile phones sporadically blaring out various theme tunes and you may come to the conclusion that this is a claustrophobic, peace lover’s hell.
An elderly gentleman snoozes next to a window. I begin to ponder how much practice it would actually take to be able to block out all of this noise. A child emits a joyful squeal upon seeing the seaside looming closer. Pure happiness from such a simple thing, is it really possible? I think back to the happiness that I felt when I was a child. The fulfilment of enacting plays with friends, playing in sand, sledding down snowy hillsides chilling my cheeks as the wind whipped past. When did everything change? Why does maturity and responsibility seem so much more important? Why does happiness now need to be so much more? Simple grains of sand in a sandpit have been replaced with thoughts of shopping sprees or a brand new top of the range sports car sitting in the drive.
Happiness now seems to cost more. It takes much more to bring a smile or to shed a tear. Adulthood seems to bring a desire for greater fulfilment and the suppression of emotions. There are of course adults who are happy enough with the latest racing game and openly show their feelings. Yet these people are often considered to be “big kids” or they need to grow up. Adults along with greater responsibilities experience greater levels of stress. If age and experience lead to unhappiness then is it any wonder why people ponder on what there is to live for? An answer comes to me as the joyful child runs through the carriage beaming broadly. We live for love. A happy child is often a loved child.
At the moment in my thoughts however I am interrupted with the realisation that there is a woman sobbing to my right. She is crying to her best friend about how she has just found out that her boyfriend is a cheating rat. OK so maybe to her love is not so great as it leaves the heart and soul open to hurt and humiliation. So is there really a key to happiness? If there is then can it be identified? These are questions treaded by philosophers for years so who am I to think that I may be able to answer that?! But my thoughts lead me to think that happiness cannot lie in one thing, in one emotion, as life is so complex.
The train reaches its destination and I alight, straightening my clothes and surveying the scene. A serene, peaceful inviting view of the countryside meets my eyes. A picturesque landscape, which would be a peace lover’s paradise. Quite a contrast to the cramped, noisy and stifling train carriage thankfully left behind. My soul lies in this place. Memories of hillside hikes awash me like the wind whipping through the shrubbery. I walk slowly across the hillside to a small village with quaint houses and a peaceful silence unknown to any city dweller. Leaving this place for a city job was an exciting prospect and now I am back feeling somewhat different.
I hear my name called softly and I turn to see my family standing together looking towards me awaiting my presence. I straighten my clothes once more and follow my sister into the house to deposit my bag. After gently embracing my family I walk outside. With one hand clasping a single white rose and a letter, I join the funeral procession to walk towards the quaint little church in the centre of the village. Each footstep brings with it a memory. Memories of a time when we thought that we would be together for many years to come. To see ourselves turn grey with age. With mourning comes regret. Regret for not doing so many things that we thought could wait. Regret for prioritising the wrong things.
Life seems so much more now, as it seems so fragile and incomplete. As I place the single white rose upon the coffin, I am overwhelmed with a wave of emotion and sob gently into my handkerchief. My dreams, my hopes, my reason for living seems to have vanished. My heart feels empty, as it is no longer fed with the love it grew to depend on. All I have now is memories, and they alone seem to not be enough. I can no longer turn to my love for a hug, or someone to brighten my day. Is happiness really possible when the one person who made me happy and gave my life meaning is no longer with me? My answer comes in the form of a gentle pushing sensation. The first kick of our unborn child. I have a reason to live as I have someone to love. Someone to look after and someone who will look at the world with such purity, and can find happiness in the simplest of things. My journey through life continues, as another journey is soon to start.
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