The first unofficial rule of owning a Happy Place is – Don’t tell anyone else about it.
Let them reap the benefits of what your happy place does for you, share your happy with them, but don’t share your happy place with them.
It doesn’t matter how trustworthy they are, how respectful, thoughtful… and if they take off their shoes before entering it so as not to bring their mud in with them.
This place is yours, your haven, and the moment you let someone else in, it will no longer do for you what it does. You have irrevocably changed the dynamics of it by letting someone else in.
Have other happy places which you’re happy to share with others… but always keep one secret silent Shangri-La all to yourself.
This is mine:
I can show you a picture of it, in fact I share many images of it in my photographs and in what I write, as it is the place from which all is created within, and it pushes itself outwards wanting to be shared.
Sharing ourselves is a natural impulse.
An impulse which often leads to pain.
Pain is natural too. It’s part of living, being… we can’t get away from experiencing it as much as we all try to do so.
Sometimes we seek to evade our pain by taking refuge in the happy places of others… and sometimes we may destroy their happy place:
1 – accidentally, without intending to do so…
Q: What’s your favourite colour?
… someone asks
… maybe we asked it of someone else, to break the ice or perhaps because we were eager to share ours but we did it indirectly, the socially acceptable way.
… a pause ensues.
What comes next will trespass on the sanctity of a favourite colour either through someone expressing their dislike for the colour or their love for it. Both can alter our love for that colour by subtly adding their own shades and hues to it. Once their colours run into ours… ours changes, and theirs does too.
2 – deliberately, intending to do so… some people’s happy place is ruining those of others.
Most of us learn rule #1 of owning our happy place the hard way…
We are born with our arms open, exposing our hearts to the world, welcoming one and all to our happy place known as being alive, wanting to naturally share in the joy of life
… and we gradually learn to cross our arms, protect our hearts from the world, as we realise that welcoming others isn’t as easy as it seemed, we’re not as welcome as we thought we were, and being alive isn’t as happy a place as it felt at first… life can be a killjoy.
Our beautiful simplicity is seen as something to be used against us by those mired in complications… they’re caught in a tangled web and they drag us in when they try to use us to get themselves out.
Once we’re caught in the complex knots… we become the ones who pull others in while trying to pull ourselves out using them.
This is my favourite film… I said to someone.
If I could slow the moment down every nuance could be seen of what happened next.
The person who heard my confession of a film which was a happy place for me… the micro-expressions flitting across their face, turning a bored smile into a slight snicker. Their mind suddenly lulled out of apathy as their ego spotted an opportunity to stand on someone else’s head to gain some height.
It’s too simplistic… they said feeling rather good about being able to put something down with such a simple trick.
That’s why I like it, because it is simple… I replied, without adding the rest of the thought because sometimes it’s best to keep things simple.
This was the rest of the thought:
Ah, the person’s ego probably thought, you like simple things because you have a simple mind. But I have a more evolved mind than you and therefore simplicity is tedium, I need everything to be too complicated for others to understand as that way I prove to myself that I am of superior intelligence.
Ah, I thought, you’re one of those who confuses intellect with intelligence, and who uses your superior intellect as a buffer, a protective boundary, a hard border which hides your soft insides.
You’re really a rather kindhearted soul, but life has battered your heart and now your arms are firmly crossed – none shall pass the tricky tests, the gauntlet which your mind has devised to stop people from getting into your happy place.
Stopping others from getting into your happy place has become a happy place.
How’s complicated intellectual complexity working out for you as a happy place?
I’m good too with my simply being a simpleton simplicity.
We’re all good then. You in your happy place, and me in mine… what? You want to discuss the border issues of our respective places?
These are my boundaries:
I know, they’re a bit of a strange shape. I can attempt to explain why, but I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to do so simply, it might get a bit complicated. Not sure if it’s your kind of complexity, but maybe it is.
I grew up with people who were afraid of simplicity, who complicated everything, who used intellect to protect themselves from the world of people around them who frightened them, and they confused their superior intellect with intelligence and passed that confusion on by gleefully poo-pooing the pleasures of others and then tediously explaining with interminable length, highfalutin words, and rigid adherence to strict guidelines of some master or another (those THEY that said something and now we all have to live by what THEY said) why that happy place of others just wasn’t allowed to be a happy place… especially if your happy place didn’t make them happy when they pushed their way in and tromped their muddy boots all over your happy.
We all do that a bit with the happy places of others.
We don’t mean to, but we do. Sometimes we’re so happy when someone lets us in… our enthusiasm makes us clumsy. And sharing is a balancing act that takes time to learn, and we learn more efficiently when we make mistakes. Errors are an erogenous zone for learning.
At times we mean to and so we do. Sometimes we’re just passing on what has been done to us, we can’t help ourselves so we help ourselves to what others have that someone else took from us while helping themselves because they couldn’t help themselves… compulsive taking due to the urge to own a happy place.
It’s a twisted version of sharing.
I can’t share my secret silent Shangri-La with you. Even if I wanted to. It has a security system with lasers that disintegrate anyone who isn’t me. It’s funny that way.
However, I can share a version of it, the benefits and other aspects of it with you. I’m happy to do so on here… this is a reflection of my happy place.
You are all welcome here with open arms. Sometimes those arms flail, so be careful of accidental slaps occurring.
Take care of yourselves.