The art of being happy?

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Last week I sat on the beach with some friends and their children. It was close to sunset, we were salty from the surf, the kids were running around naked and I had some annoying sand in my swimsuit; the kind of sand that no matter how much you try to find it, it evades you. It was really a perfect evening, apart from the sand. The niggling, scratchy feeling began to take all my attention. It dragged me away from the Instagram perfect scene in front of me. Looking over at my friend, I realised that she was probably equally as sandy, but she looked relaxed, calm, almost serene. The niggle wasn’t niggling her.

That evening I came to a stark realisation. Sometimes, you have to overcome the small irritations of life in order to be happy. We so often overlook what we have in favour of what we don’t. It’s a crazy thought process. An old ex of mine was constantly in the throws of pain and anguish for what he didn’t have (both emotionally and physically) whilst living in an amazing house, with sea views and no debts to concern himself with. I never fully understood it, much like I never understood why the dinner ladies at school would tell me off for not eating beetroot, because there were children starving in Ethiopia.

This past month has been one of huge flux and change, but through all of it I’ve tried to consider that something good can come from most events in our lives. It might not feel it at the time, but even if it means that we can grasp empathy or sympathy for others, that is positive.

And so the end of a much shorter than usual post and a moral: sometimes the niggles in life are there not to be ignored, but to allow us to appreciate everything else that we enjoy.

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