Life is good. Like, really good. Happy and joyful and awesome.
Bobby McFerrin singing “Don’t worry be happy” went right over my head, but Loverboy’s “Working for the weekend” was on repeat in my boombox.
I looked right past all those yellow smiley face t-shirts epitomized in Forrest Gump and honed in on “Shit happens”. I’ve forgotten all kinds of happy things, but I clearly remember my mom’s coffee mug that said “Life’s a bitch”.
But life’s not a bitch.
Now I see that’s all bullshit that people tell themselves, often for sake of fitting in with other humans.
Fitting in is a strong biological drive. Strong enough to make us choose misery just because everyone else has.
When you show up in fully engaged in your life and stop buying into your own stories…
When you take total responsibility for your own happiness and wake up to the lies you’re telling…
Life gets GOOD.
And it doesn’t have to look any particular way. I’m sarcastic and I swear and I get crabby but I tell you, I’m happier than I ever thought possible underneath it all.
So trust me, this life-is-good stuff is not just for the former cheerleaders. You don’t have to be bubbly or gregarious or an extravert. I’m none of those.
But you can be happy underneath the rippling waves that life rolls across the surface. It has zero to do with banishing struggle or sadness, it’s about what’s always present underneath.
Life is really good.