…I’m happy

I went to a lovely birthday party on a recent Saturday night. My friend was celebrating her 70th birthday. 70th. I remembered being 33, the summer after my daughter was born, when a different friend from another life became 36. I remember the day clearly. On our wonderful screened back porch where the children played and built marvelous Lego creations, the eight of us, married couples who were part of each other’s lives, were sitting around the picnic table. I can see myself in post-pregnancy clothes and my friend, the husband of a close friend, sitting across from me. I had to say, “I cannot believe that a friend of mine is 36! Not 36!” But he was, and we all laughed. He seemed so much older than I was.

Now, of course, both of my children are older than I was then, and my friend from this life, from Saturday night’s party, is 70. That seems impossible to me, too, even though I am merely two years behind her on the same road heading in the same direction. To 70. I am not writing now to talk about how this happened, and where these last 35 years went, although I do think about that. What I am writing about from that party is how happy a time it was. My friend was full of joy, surrounded by her family, from California and New York and several other places: children, grandchildren, her sister, her niece, cousins and an aunt, all of whom were celebrating as they loved her and loved being there. Her friends, too, for the most part being people who enjoy a chance to celebrate and realize the beauty of life, were doing the same. I felt honored to be there, part of this exceptional group of people and receiving much more of the combined joy than I could possibly give.

I had noticed across the room a woman whose company I had enjoyed many times as part of a large group of women who met monthly to look at life and the community, both close and worldwide, discussing some personal things, but more how to give for the greater good. I had always admired this woman, wanting to pay close attention to her anytime she spoke. She was smart and insightful and showed her caring every time. Propelled, I think, by such fine birthday spirit on this particular night, I left my chair next to my husband to slip into the just empty chair next to her for a few minutes to tell her just that. And I did. She seemed surprised at first, and then appreciative, giving me a spontaneous hug, after which she asked me about what was going on in my life. I am usually stunned at that question, running down the list of husband, grandchildren, work, home projects, anything else, as I look for something interesting or at least acceptable to say. But this time, since I had already been asked several times during the evening, I told her about writing and this website coming and how I felt about it, fairly succinctly, I think, which is also not usual. She asked a few specific short-answer questions which I answered before asking, “And what about you?” She told me she was working at her same job, which she enjoys, and then she said “And I am at a good place in my life.” Pausing thoughtfully she added, “I’m happy.”

“I’m happy.” That is not a comment that I hear very much actually, which I realized right away. Such a clear pronouncement. “I’m happy.” She went on to tell me that for a long time she thought that with so much pain and hardship around us in the world, it wasn’t all right for her to be happy. And then one day she simply realized that she was. Her perspective had changed. “Being over fifty helps that, don’t you think,” she asked. Oh yes, I do. Somewhere after that age, I started telling people in my office that life may be a roller coaster, but you don’t have to ride it. You can decide whatever way you want to keep your feet solid on the earth as the roller coaster goes by, up and down and faster and more up and down, and around again and again and again. But you don’t have to get on. You do not have to go on that ride.

Instead you can pray or meditate or sit in nature and breathe. You can sing and dance and love. For even a moment, you can enter a child’s simple world of wonder and joy. You can make a decision in life to follow a different path than the exhausting roller coaster ride. In fact, it seems to me that it’s my responsibility to find whatever way I possibly can to see and feel the joys in life and be happy in them. Allow myself to feel the happiness. Allow myself to savor it and grow it as this woman helped me do in our brief conversation on a recent Saturday night, at a very happy birthday party.

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