I've been thinking a lot about the meaning of life, happiness, bla bla bla. I've got a self help book which is sort of unintentionally humorous and one chapter sticks out in my mind. It starts with a question. What if I've had a crappy life? Isn't happiness just a clever way of lying to one's self? Then I tell myself: "Look at all the poor suffering souls in 3rd world countries. That could be you." Hmm, I don't think it's very logical to look at things in relative terms. If there were only 10 people left on earth including myself and they had all lost an arm should I every morning rejoice in the fact that I have two arms. Here's my litmus test. If I wasn't aware of the condition of all of the other people on earth would I still have the same reaction? In other words, if I'd never met the one armed people would I wake up and thank god that I had two arms? Probably not.
Maybe happiness is boring. Maybe it's overrated. Maybe it's been blown way out of proportion by people tired of religion so they substitute happiness for heaven. I'm not depressed, but perky just isn't me.