Happiness Is...

Could there be any purer happiness than the feeling that overcame the little blue penguins who were released back into the cold waters off New Zealand after an oil spill?

These were the lucky ones, the ones rescued in time from the toxic brew and nursed back to health on dry land while crews worked to clean up the sea. The view from the back tells it all; there is no need to check their faces for little penguin smiles to know these creatures are as happy as, well, clams.

I would love to be as happy as the penguins seem to be, but I remain stuck in an environment that can, on occasion, be toxic and very bad for my emotional health. It's not all bad, and it certainly won't kill me, but sometimes I'd love to be spirited away and taken care of while somebody else cleans up the mess in my house. Unfortunately -- or, maybe, fortunately -- I'm nowhere near as cute or helpless looking as a blue penguin, and I can take care of myself. And I can certainly take care of my messes, particularly since I had a hand in creating them.

Here at the top of the food chain, we don't get to experience the kind of simple, unadulterated joy experienced by a sea creature, a bird simply thrilled to be alive and home and have unlimited access to fishy treats. When my children were babies, they used to do something I referred to as the full body smile -- arms flapping, bellies jiggling, mouths squealing, and cheeks stretched to their ears. Helpless creatures, but capable of feeling pure joy. It always made me smile. Not a full body smile, but rather a smile tempered with the knowledge that such bliss would necessarily be fleeting, that life, for them, would one day be far more complicated.

I don't mean to sound negative. Pure bliss may be out of reach, but I wish for and expect a good degree of happiness for me, for my kids, for all the people I love. To the extent we are able, we should all experience the feeling of flapping our wings, pointing our toes outward, and dashing with pure abandon into the sea.