“It’s all in the name”
THE first real problem with being asked to write a regular newspaper column is choosing which photo to use and picking out a name that would appear on one’s box.
I had that dilemma in 2006 when I first started writing for this newspaper. I was thankful it was a step away from getting only older, established, predominantly male columnists.
I settled fast on a photo but agonized over the name. I had two other choices, “No Shrinking Violet” and “In Plain English.” I thought the former would convey that I would not shy away from any topic – my soft-spoken introversion was often mistaken for shyness, and the latter would express my disdain for complex words and too-long, show-offy sentences.
The then young-ish, domestic me eventually chose “Chasing Happy” because I thought it captured where I was at that point and where I was hoping to be. Never mind that some people said it sounded grammatically infirm. It wasn’t. Happy was a noun.
And so I chased Happy for the next 10 years, writing pieces on various topics – government, governance, women, families, communities.
It was a mixed bag, really. And then I felt the need for change, first writing something entitled “Retiring the chase,” explaining why the pursuit of Happy seemed so pointless, and then started calling my column “Long Story Short.”
It was intended to be a tribute to clarity and brevity, but also an expression of my desire to be like LSS, a worm in one’s ear. I’m now using LSS somewhere else and, upon my return to the Standard’s opinion pages, which I edited and wrote for for 16 years, guess what? I’m chasing Happy yet again.
I’ve done some growing up since ‘06.
Today I return with a renewed commitment to continue chasing Happy, now fully aware that, catching it, possessing it, living with it every day is never going to happen. Nor it is the point.
It is Happy’s nature to be elusive. It could, from time to time, allow itself to be frozen. It comes at a moment when all you can do is close your eyes and savor the sensation of things being as they should be.
It could be the sight of the tops of trees, the setting sun, gentle rain that seems to wash away your cares and gives you better perspective, the knowledge that you’ve done a tiny thing that made a difference to someone, the company of persons who matter to you, the sight of a page you have filled with words, even a lazy morning when you can lounge around and not have to do anything.
And all too soon, it is gone.
It is Happy’s nature to be fleeting. When you sense it, prepare yourself for the moment it goes. Expecting it to stay is a recipe for heartbreak. Something is always going to shift.
I won’t be writing anything grave or heavy on this weekend space. I will write about things that are familiar to me, that are important to me, and perhaps these will find resonance among others even if we are complete strangers. I will try to make sense of the things that confound me. It may at first blush appear self-indulgent, but the ultimate hope is that even a few readers could identify and relate with whatever it is I am saying.
This is my Happy, and my hope is that it bears a semblance to yours. It’s a fleeting moment, but both the flash of experience and the lifelong pursuit are worth living the rest of our days.
And so hello again.
