Last weekend, a friend told me a story about his life that absolutely floored me. It was a story about ethical obligations, responsibilities, burdens, and the situations in life that leave you feeling trapped (yes, I felt the need for a stiff drink after listening to this one). At first, I couldn’t relate to his situation at all, his story was centered in another culture, an arranged marriage, and probably the heaviest load of family pressure that I had ever heard. It took a few moments for all of this information to penetrate my Irish-you-can-get-married-to-whomever-you-want-as-long-as-he-pays-his-taxes brain, and I was about to hang up the phone with a shrug of the shoulders and the mumbled statement, "That only the strong can pave their way to happiness."… but as usual, the situation was far more complex than one simple Amyism could reflect.
That night, as I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, my mind wandered again in his direction. I didn’t understand how someone so full of energy and life could actually be drowning in it. I felt sorry for him, angry for him, and to be honest, annoyed by him – people who are strong should be able to figure out their own crap, right? Wrong.
It took me a few moments before the light bulb went on inside my over-analyzing brain, and I realized that I had heard this story before—in fact, probably hundreds of times before. No, the version I had heard did not involve any romantic arranged marriages or over bearing mothers (well, no more imperious then an Irish mother after you candidly admit to practicing birth control), but rather the situation where a military spouse is exhausted, out of options, barely employable after a decade of globe hopping, and the mother of a small platoon. How many times have I answered the phone to a crying girlfriend where they shouted, “I love him so much, but this life is killing me.”? How many times have I heard the phrase, “I am tired of coming in second. When did this life become so complicated?”
It used to be so simple for me just to respond, “Happiness is a choice.”…. but what I failed to notice—and what my friend reminded me of-- is that happiness is also a journey. All of us have experienced that emotional weight on our shoulders that attempts to push us to our knees. All of us—whether fat, thin, rich, poor, military, or civilian—have felt trapped, alone, and out of options-- the fear of change to daunting; the fear of disappointing those we love to overwhelming. But what we missed—is that happiness does not have to be a simple black and white equation. Sometimes you need to walk in the gray to see the blessings that surround you—find joy in your children, seek out advance degrees, plan pretend weddings every summer (even if you have to tell your boss, “Dude… I am Irish. We reproduce like rabbits. Not my fault that I have 87 cousins”), and accept the fact that we would never notice or appreciate true joy if we never experienced adversity.
Happiness IS a voyage, not a destination. So today I am reminding all my friends—military or civilian-- to sit back and enjoy the ride. Dig in for the up hills, coast along the down hills, change the things you are willing and able to, and accept those that you can not. And always remember… there is only one person ultimately responsible for your happiness…. And that is you. Don’t waste it being afraid of the meaningful journey.
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