Is it not enough to pursue the things which make you happy? Do I feel a true void in the absence of the sad, weighty things? Is it habit? Maybe it’s a viewpoint which needs tweaking, maneuvering.
Maybe I know what makes me happy, but I haven’t had much practice immersing myself in those things. If I only touch upon them occasionally and reluctantly, naturally I’ll still yearn for the other stuff I have become old friends with. The somber, melancholic stuff.

Maybe my childhood observation about my multiple personalities should tell me something about the possible cause of my moodiness. I liked to talk about how frequently I felt like a different person. I’m sure each different person was in a different mood.

I have observed that focusing more on what makes me happy engenders a state of mind which hearkens back to childhood. More unfettered mentally.

originally published on 12/29/09