The difference between happiness and joy is vast. What we call joy might only be mere happiness, and much of what we call happiness might actually be contentment or the absence of pain. While there are many things I enjoy today, and many days that are wonderful, my son has given me new perspective.
There is not enough joy out there. As an adult, I would choose my wedding day and the day Max was born as the happiest of my life. But when I think about my favorite memories, for sheer, delirious, minute-by-minute euphoria, they’re always from my childhood.
The best day
When I was in Junior high, I had computer class first period. One morning the teacher came over and said I was needed in the office. This scared me. Good kids didn’t get sent to the office, and I wasn’t cool enough to act out.
When I got to the office, my dad was standing there with my best friend’s mom. Then my friend appeared at the other end of the hall. My dad had bought tickets to go see the Utah Jazz play in the playoffs, weeks earlier. It was my first time going to an NBA game, and I was going with my dad and my best friend.
We left school, drove to Salt Lake City, watched the game, and arrived home about 17 hours later. What is most memorable about it all is that every single minute of that day was absolute bliss. very single minute was fun.
I’m not sure that I still have those sorts of days in me. Is this part of being an adult? Most of my best days are still tempered with thoughts of obligations and nagging problems in the background.
What do you think? Do we lose the ability to enjoy things on the level of childhood? If so, can we et it back? What are your favorite memories of happiness so intense you barely survived it? Let’s talk in the comments section.
PS: The Jazz won that basketball game. I wouldn’t surprise anyone with a trip to see them these days. Could turn into a disaster.
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