Life is full of choices. What we don’t always understand is that happiness is a choice, too. It seems strange that being happy would be a choice, but that is one of the things I learned when I was caught up in grief.
As chance would have it, I went down to Florida to visit some good friends about eight months after my husband’s sudden death. He and I had planned to do that, so I got up my courage and went by myself. It was in the early part of the year, and while I was there, they decided to have a Super Bowl party. It was also my host’s birthday, so there were a lot of people and there was a lot of laughter.
Even though everyone else was having a good time, I had trouble joining in. In fact, I wondered how they could be having so much fun when I was hurting so much. How could they not feel my pain?
It was then I realized that what I was experiencing wasn’t “out there.” It was inside myself, and the only way that was going to change was if I changed.
But to be “happy,” to laugh, to really laugh, felt dishonest. When I tried to laugh, it felt like I was denying the importance of my husband’s passing.
I knew he didn’t want me to spend the rest of my life crying. What to do? I was stuck, and I knew it.
I thought about that a lot over the next few days. Finally I decided to just give myself permission to be happy. It wasn’t the same happy as I had known before, and it certainly wasn’t the happy I know now, but it was a start. It was a place to begin.
I think that is how it is for many of us. We have to give ourselves permission to not work so hard, to be kind to ourselves, even to nurture ourselves, and yes, to follow the deep calling in our heart that can lead us to the happiness we are seeking. Once we make that choice, our deep healing begins.