I’ve been trying to define happiness.
I didn’t realize I had to, that I didn’t recognize it, until a few (ten?) years ago after I had moved back to the city and was showing my new home to a new friend. She admired it, as people must do if they’re polite, but then she said, “You must be happy”, and I realized I wasn’t. I paused.
“I’m content,” I said.
That was saying a lot. I have to think about this some more.
More anon.