I suspect that unhappy people wish too much. Instead of just letting things happen, they wish this and that. And when they don't get it -- well, that makes them unhappy. I find I'm happiest when I just let the day unfold. Naturally. Rather than wishing, I accept the day as it comes. And often, it's full of surprises. Pleasant ones. But even if something unpleasant happens, it's a challenge. Just finding a way to cope. And turning the day around. Often, all it takes is just reminding myself that I'm in love. But even in times when I wasn't in love, I still found ways to be happy. In solitude, for instance. And just by letting things happen. Finding something to savor.
But I have to admit, it's easier to be happy now than it was 10 or 20 or 30 years ago. Maybe it's because I'm retired. I have fewer responsibilities, fewer pressures. Less stress. Sure, I'm getting older. Toward the end of life. But I've learned to savor the days that are left. And not to get too far ahead of myself. I suppose I could have done that long ago. But I didn't know better. I have a different idea now of the meaning of success. Really, it comes down to happiness. What makes one happy. I'm aware now that when I am in love and in good health, I'm the happiest. That's quite a nice combination. But then again, I was in love 30 years ago, too. And healthy. But I wasn't as happy as I am now. Maybe it was because I had far more responsibilities then. A full-time job, for instance. Making a living. I didn't have as much time to focus on the most meaningful aspects of life. --Jim Broede
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When I make asinine comments, I always sign my name to 'em. And I insist that the rest of you do the same. --Jim
I don't trust you, Linda. I know you only by your first name. You know a whole lot more about me than I know about you. Because my life is sort of like an open book. You can google my name and learn a whole lot about me. And you have access to a vast array of stuff I've written in the past 10 or 15 years. All kinds of things. Opinions. Biographic facts. Criticisms. You have submitted asinine comments. For publication here. Without basis in fact. You put me at a disadvantage by hiding your identity. You may very well have an axe to grind. Over something I may have done to you. Maybe some sort of misunderstanding. I don't know. If you want a private dialogue, fine. If you want a public debate -- well, then come clean. Identify yourself. Otherwise, you are wasting your time, and my time. I suspect you are a sick woman. In need of help. Counseling. But I don't know for sure. Because I don't really know you. -Jim
You continue to be a daffy stalker, Linda. You are obsessed with me. Get some help. But you have to seek it. You are mentally sick. That's no shame. Help is available. The fact that you keep coming back to this blog is not a good sign. Get on with your life. End this obsession. You are wasting your time. Wasting your life. You can be fixed. --Jim
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