I chanced upon a conversation today. An accidental one, because it wasn't supposed to be a conversation at all, but merely a retelling. Which is why I wasn't prepared.
Anyways, so the question was - "If you had the chance to relive one day/moment from your life once again, which one would it be?"
Now of course, there is no right or wrong answers to this, specially if one has to answer on the fly. And as it turns out, I am not particularly fond of the impromptu answer. Anyways, that particular issue is not up for discussion right now. What I want to decide first, for myself, is the right answer to this question, for me.
The more I think about it, the more I realize that every moment in the past had its own ... joys and troubles. As an individual, the most troublefree one ever is, is their childhood (for most of us). The troubles of childhood are simpler, the consequences of the choices made are immediate and most often not really sticking. And yet, the joys are more vibrant, almost reverberating. The best of the situations really. But then I think of my parents at the same time. Of course, they must have had the trials and tribulations of being parents of young children, of earning money, of keeping a happy, healthy and safe home, of being responsible on a daily basis... so on and so forth. When I thought about this, I hesitated for a second - would I want them to go through those troubles again? But then, immediately it dawned on me that even they would trade a day now for a day then in a heartbeat. They had their youth and their kids lived still with them. Of course, that is the time they would want to relive too.
But by that logic, I should want to time travel at all. So I go back to the question, I have to decide on a time I would like to go back to for a day, and for me. I would like to think more, fantasize more, relive more.
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Anyways, so this train of thoughts led me to another one. Namely, the troubles we all like to discuss when we get together with friends. The quintessential question at any coffee/lunch/dinner/club/date is always - "So what's up with life nowadays?" And the answer is always a recounting or summary of how busy one is, how much their kids are troubling them, how demanding their job is, how the house is a mess... And the funny thing is that all of us believe this to be the truth. But I think it is not. We often talk about how we should be happy and thankful and full of gratitude since these are our golden days. And we think we are not happy but I really think we are mistaken. We are all incredibly happy. And we know it, at least deep down. It is just that we are scared to admit that we are happy. Because the moment you admit it, it becomes concrete, describable, real. And that kind of puts a boundary to it and makes it defined, less than unlimited.
Also, there is the notion that in order to be truly happy one has to be both ignorant and selfish. So obviously we are reluctant.
Is that why no one confesses?
Who in the world is courageous enough to admit that they are truly unconditionally happy?
