To write a blog about happiness, I went to the public beach. Impromptu destination. Sat on the rocks in an orange shirt. The same one that I wore when I laid on the grass with the youngest and took a snapshot. "The grass looks like a bed of parsley" remarked one of my two favourite cousins.
Radio on my ipod. Because lyrics matter. Because I previewed my favourite DJ about this happy post. Because it is 92FM and they may play either Snow Patrol or Calvin Harris, a combo gig at Sandance that I will party on tomorrow with a couple that know everything about music.
Happiness begins at very early sunrise. With the desert light that filters through the windows of the high rise. With the split moment when the "pinktaxi" engages onto the SheikhZayed Road lane, with 3 kids in tow, Katy Perry, Kanye-JayZ, Example or Eminem blaring, direction OudMetha! With the completion of a pilates class, when my whole body feels stretched and aligned, or after a tough circuit training called Heartbreak that tastes like endorphin instead of lactic acid. When I walk out of Bikram Yoga with the feel of achievement and a red facial glow.
Happiness happens at the precise angle of the riding ring when I press my outer heal and ask Pepper to galop on in Arabic because he is an Arabian! Contact with a horse is happiness releasing, the same way holding a nephew is.
Happiness is reaching to people you like or love, sharing, learning from them, teaching them. Happiness is noticing that any city you are in can be your city for that day. That trees look superb in any season and in any light. That twilight translates as crepuscule in French and both languages convey so perfectly my favorite ephemeral time of the day. That I enjoy the music of vocabulary, chewing on adverbs and complex nouns for hours. Happiness can also come in a perfect cup of coffee while writing a blog.
When I play golf, when I skate with my children, when we open the sun roof of the car so they can stick their heads out while I drive off the beaten track, when I pick up a nephew, or take my father to the beach, or my husband to coffee, when I bench press a heavier weight, when I read leMonde or visit the Beyeler foundation in Basel, when I ride a bike through the vineyards of Geneva, or hear Paradise by ColdPlay like a daily vitamin supplement on the radio, or watch Roger Federer win or follow Tiger Woods on the course or stare at BurjKhalifa I feel happy.
"Le bonheur est dans le pre" say the French which simply translates as happiness is in the fields.