In Search of Happiness

Sometimes I compare my happiness to that of other people’s. I sit and look through pictures or meet for coffee and wonder if I should be as happy as they are, as they seem to be.
I’m not a person who likes to be out at parties all the time, or out drinking but I wonder if maybe I would be happier doing that. I spend too much time in my own head questioning everything and anything that comes my way. I am sometimes a mess, some days I cry, most days I don’t sleep.
I question my life, my choices, the place I live, my family relationships, my personal relationships, all this in the pursuit of happiness. I want to know the mechanics of happy and how mathematically one can achieve this state permanently and without pause.
But in reality my belief is that happiness is a choice, also a product of a slew of choices but in and of itself a singular choice. Is my dinner awful at the new restaurant? I choose to love the company I am keeping. Does it rain? I enjoy my new, fabulous umbrella. Is my heating off? I take solace with a cup of tea at a bookstore and enjoy the people watching. Happiness - like love, like marriage, like life - is a choice that is made on a daily basis, several times a day.
So if I believe this, and I do, why do I constantly compare my happiness to other people’s as if we were competing for grades in law school? I’ve always been the dutiful child, the eldest, and the only; and because of that, I have always had a huge sense of responsibility, even when I’ve behaved irresponsibly. It’s always about doing what is right, what is fair and what I should do, and somehow, that way of thinking has translated into all aspects of my life.
Do I love enough? Do I love in the right way? Am I obedient enough to my parents? Am I doing everything in my power to make them happy? Am I a good friend? Do I listen enough? Am I a burden? What can I do to not be a burden on other people? Do I have doubts? If I have doubts then how can I go forward? Am I unfair? Do I talk too much?
The funny thing is I am happy, right now, at this moment, I am happy. Most nights, before I go to sleep I pray and thank God for all the blessings in my life. At this moment, in this chair, I wouldn’t rather be doing anything else that what I am doing right now. So why am I doubtful?
It seems I’m so preoccupied with trying to do what I think my duty is that most time I neglect to do what I really want.
But I’m going. I’m going to do something I have wanted to do for a long time. And All doubt that I should do this has been erased, but I’m scared. I’m out on a ledge and I’m wondering what the hell I’m going to do if I change my mind; if this isn’t right for me?
Why can’t I reconcile what I want with what is right? Why can’t it be right simply because I want it; because it’s what I am doing? Why am I so afraid of failing that some days I spend all day wondering if other people have it right and I’m just a lost case?
I guess the good part about going on a six-week walk by yourself is that you have plenty of time to ponder all of these doubts and questions. Good thing I’m packing light, I’ve got too much baggage to carry already.