Don’t Worry, Be… Happy?

A warm and embracing thank you to Lynette d’Arty-Cross, for bravely and boldly doing the hokey-cokey-pokey with me and jumping into the challenge of asking me this question:

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What is one of your best, happy memories from any time in the past?

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In my posts I sometimes veer into lands of sadness, anger, frustration, ranting and raving while being chased by furies, harpies and weird looking parrots who are trying to eat the crackers in my brain (maybe my brain is made of crackers).

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Along the way I may take detours into intellectual pomposity, using logic, or something I call logic, to make a fort behind which I can safely take pot shots using a boomerang (the mechanics of which I still haven’t understood) at this baddie or that, which is actually a projection of my mind on the screen of the world.

Or I may duck into and hide in caves of silliness, flippancy, the ridiculous, seeking refuge in humour which may come across as sarcasm or seriousness… and may actually be truer words said in jest.

And so on and so forth… I’ve lost track of where I was going with this, someone close to me was singing, or just going, ‘boop, de boop, boop, de boop…’ and it was so catchy it caught a fish, but it wasn’t a fish even though sometimes it looks like one, it was a thought in my stream of consciousness which was sort of holding the words in this post together.

I am so easily distracted it’s amazing that any thought manages to hold on to me… speaking of catchy tunes, remember this one:

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“In every life we have some trouble
When you worry you make it double
Don’t worry, be happy”

– Bobby McFerrin

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When I’m not being dashed on the rocks by sirens (or a fly buzzing around my head – dude, you’re lucky I’m too lazy at the moment to give you some reincarnation therapy) which delays my journey in thought… I sometimes get to where I’m going due to… (now, what… kitten, you’re lovely and fluffy and all things nice, but how much food can you actually eat in the space of an hour? What? You want to try and see…)… putting wax in my ears, then forgetting it is there which is why I can’t hear anything except the bubbles popping in the brain (is that where the brain is?).

Happy thoughts, happy memories… these were the substance which I jammed in my ears for the long journey from there to here.

This is quite a useful survival tactic for life’s turbulence, however it can turn happiness into something else… as that is what is being done with it. The slightest happy becomes a life vest inflated to its maximum air capacity, and even then you’re worrying that you’re going to drown… or strangle yourself with the life jacket, or get your feet nibbled by sharks and other things from beneath… but you don’t need feet when you’re floating!

As a child I did a lot of accentuating the positive (and minimising the negative), whistling a happy tune when I was afraid, smiling when my heart was aching and breaking:

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“Light up your face with gladness
Hide every trace of sadness
Although a tear may be ever so near…”

– Charlie Chaplin

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To do that I made the most of what actually made me smile, whistle and be positive… and I kept doing it until it became all I did. Until it was what was expected of me, and others came to me for me to do that for them too.

They could hurt me, be mean to me, and such, and I would find the up side of it, make them feel good for being bad, ego te absolvo… it wasn’t meant to be twisted, it just got twisted.

Pain has a tendency to twist and turn things around, as do the things we do to deal with pain. Hush little baby, don’t say a word… shhh… it’ll be our secret.

Sorry, this is getting sinister… it’s weird how many children’s songs and nursery rhymes are sinister! One of my favourites was sung by a woman bemoaning the fact that her tiny husband was eaten by her cat. Or something like that.

So… a happy memory. I have many, even if I seem like a grump. Some of my happy memories include me being grumpy. I quite enjoy it!

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“Well, o.k. I made this up
I promised you I’d never give up”

-Cheryl Crow

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Many of my happies include getting wet… especially in the Summer, and since Summer is upon us…

One of my favourite memories, which still makes me grin, is of a young and feral me, running around in bikini bottoms… no need for a top in those days – really don’t need one these days either as I’m part of the itty bitty titty comittee, but… those were the days… no one else was around to bring the house down in a depressing and prudish, and think about what others think, manner.

I had escaped attention. I was free… for a while. Long enough to…

Run through sprinklers on a sweltering day, pretending those tiny drops were part of a rainstorm on a desert island like Lost, long before Lost. Danger and daring… wild and primal. Fun!

Once I was drenched and shivering, I would head inside, wrap a towel around me as though being hugged by loving warmth, and make myself a civilised cup of tea, with a slice of lemon and too much sugar.

Mmmmmm…

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“Even when the darkest clouds are in the sky
You mustn’t sigh and you mustn’t cry
Spread a little happiness as you go by
Please try…”

– Vivian Ellis and Clifford Grey

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What I learned during that time was, something I have kept relearning throughout life… you can make yourself happy and don’t need to wait around for anyone else to do it for you or for life to hand it to you on a silver platter.

You can be happy even when you’re unhappy. Not sure how, but it can be done with a twist here and there.

Is that happiness real?

I have no idea. Sometimes it feels real, so who cares if it is or not… and sometimes it doesn’t feel real and it makes you so much more unhappy when you’re thinking that and poking, prodding it.

Like everything else really…

Is this a dream or are we awake?

F*** if I know! Either way I can have a say in things to a certain degree, or imagine that I do… at least as far as my mood is concerned. I can be happy and worry at the same time, happy and unhappy simultaneously, depending on focus, and if you’re a scatterbrain like me… (maybe that’s why I’m that way – look at the birdy, chirpy chirpy cheep cheep!) and don’t have to choose between the two. So… there!

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“For life is quite absurd
And death’s the final word
You must always face the curtain
with a bow…”

– Monty Python

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That’s my golden hour and my mixed up tape. Boom! Shake the room!