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People keep asking me what I mean when I refer to my “happy”.

There’s no big secret. It’s not a code word. My happy is exactly what it sounds like – the moments that give me the warm and fuzzies and make me feel like all is right with the world.

Examples? Glad you asked…

  • Happy is sitting on the back porch in the sun with a coffee and a good book while my furbabies play in the yard.
  • Happy is having my 10 month old nephew greet me like I’m a rock star, and then singing the Tigger song to him while he laughs his little butt off.
  • Happy is having a good dinner and then drinking too much wine in the hot tub with good friends, and knowing that I don`t have to be “on” while I’m doing it.
  • Happy is taking the time to stop and watch hawks playing on the wind currents.
  • Happy is lying in bed and listening to it rain.
  • Happy is finding my peonies in bloom when I leave for work in the morning.
  • Happy is demolishing a pint of my favourite ice cream while watching one of my favourite tv shows.
  • Happy is a long, hot lavender scented bath at the end of a long day.

The point is, you see, that your “happy” can be anything and everything you want it to be.

It can be two seconds or two hours. It can be indoors or outdoors. It can be when you’re alone or when you’re in a crowded room. It can be big and loud, or small and whisper soft. It can be a look or a touch or a feeling.

Just find the things that make you smile, make you cry with joy, and make you feel at peace.

So have as many moments of “happy” as you can. Enjoy them. And hold onto them.

About Jessica Wilson

My name is Jessica Wilson, I’m 35 years old and single. The single is (mostly) by choice, the 35 is not. I am mom to 5 furbabies, have become an avid runner, and own and operate a small business.
I’ve been dealing with mental illness for as long as I can remember. I was diagnosed with clinical depression and anxiety in my early 20’s, and continue to struggle with it or manage quite well, depending on the day. It very obviously runs in my family – my grandmother was bipolar, and mental illness can be traced back at least 3 generations on my maternal side, in various forms.

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