“Happiness is only real when shared.”
This past weekend, the Lord’s weekend, I showed my liver no mercy.
One of my brothers was in town, from a university known for its slight degeneracy, and we partook in a bit of that degeneracy, along with a few of my friends, and found ourselves drifting through the night until the morning rain came and lulled us all to bed just hours before sunrise.
The next day, he and I drove to our mother’s house, where my dad and younger brother also live, and found ourselves in the troughs of good food, good wine and good company.
On Sunday, concluding the weekend, my grandmother’s birthday took place with amusingly no drinks being drunk on my part.
And in this eventful weekend that took place, it was all filled with bliss, joy and happiness.
And as I sit here, looking out my window that faces a pale sunflower-yellow building with cobalt, electric blue trim, I’m reflecting on what took place, and I now understand the quote from Christopher McCandless, “Happiness is only real when shared.”
I’ve read and heard of a few ways to find happiness.
One would claim that happiness is found in the pursuit and pleasure in labor.
And while I agree with these two ways to find happiness and the one I introduced at the top of the page, I haven’t lived a life long enough to formulate my own concrete thought on what, where, why and how happiness arises.
All I can say, in this moment here on Wednesday, April 3rd, 2024, at 1:36 PM PST, is that the weekend that took place was about as priceless as it gets.
Sharing it with family, friends that are family and extended family.
Because if you can’t share your time and efforts with another, what’s the point?
— George
