Joy is that moment. The one where your heart starts to beat and you can feel it--it's electric. Joy gave rise to "I wish this moment could last forever." euphoria.
Happiness is the mundane. It's finding sunshine in your soy latte and smiles at the dog park. It is there in small multitudes. Happiness is going to bed happy, and being tucked in by the comfort of 1,000 little pieces of love.
A Smile and A Grin
When you smile, it's there. It's there because someone said something nice or something funny. At that moment you're happy because you're not sad. Happiness is the absence of negative emotions. It's not anything amazing in particular. Many aim for this notion of happiness but in reality its content. It's being able to smile.
When you grin, it's not just there. You can feel it. Someone you love is nearby or something amazing just happened. At that moment you're filled with joy, you're not just happy. There's this indescribable bubble and you can feel yourself shake with excitement-with ecstasy. It's euphoric. It's being able to grin.
Happiness...
I was overjoyed when the strip turned pink,
and when the pets sniffed at my belly,
nuzzling their soft noses against me.
I was overwhelmed with joy, for I’d taken
these little moments of life as my securities.
Just like we almost always do while piling up
our bank accounts with savings.
Ironical more so, when we turn away beggars,
lazily dusting that prized porcelain doll
some beloved got for us from Tokyo,
picturing that long-awaited vacation
somewhere with the family around....
Beaches, mediterranean sun, music and laughter
colours, smells of spices, wafting around and joyous chaos
Hum of life would one day be on these ears,
I think as the doll slips through
and shatters into a million shards....
Oh no! That was from Tokyo, never coming back....
While Doris Day keeps singing
Enjoy yourself, it’s later than you think
Enjoy yourself, while you’re still in the pink
The years go by, as quickly as a wink
Enjoy yourself, enjoy yourself, it’s later than you think
I look out...the beggar’s gone. Then a screech of brakes,
neighbours rushing out towards what looks like a tragedy.
I walk up to see the mangled body, the unkempt beard,
the stained shirt and broken nails....
Oh no! That man was somebody too, never coming back....
The pets...one day they’re no longer playful,
seldom stirring up, languishing, distant cloudy eyes.
Sclerosis, the doc says, but there’s something worse
than those unseeing and vacant eyes.
Their hearts... missing rhythm, their kidneys failing....
So I give him the final nod and return to an empty home.
While Doris Day keeps singing
Your heart of hearts, your dream of dreams, your ravishing brunette
She’s left you and she’s now become somebody else’s pet
Lay down that gun, don’t try, my friend, to reach the great beyond
You’ll have more fun by reaching for a redhead or a blonde
I pick up my son, and smell the soft baby skin and powder....
I hold hands with my parents, as they console me every which way.
I tell myself I still got my childhood sweetheart beside me,
who’s my husband now, no longer a clown, rock solid now....
But I don’t pay heed to Doris Day.
Years roll by, and I return to a really empty house,
sans parents, sans sweetheart, sans pets and sans baby powder.
I look at his handsome young face in the photograph, kiss it goodbye.
The silence overwhelms me, and I turn on the radio.
Doris Day again....
This time I listen for the first time, do my dishes,
take my pills, apply lipstick, clean up the space....
I no longer depend on momets of joy,
I nod away to a blissful loll, a book in my gnarled hands.
I’m happy now, because I’m free.
Kick Rocks and Soda Cups
Joy is a challenge overcome.
Happiness is a dream made true.
Happiness is the overrated end goal that is always out of grasp;
much like 'tomorrow' it'll never really arrive, but it's the hope that comes with it that makes the ever-changing concept so essential.
Happiness is the root of deceit and so often where a character unravels.
The prospect of something so elusive and unrealistic is the risk that preys on weakness.
It's chasing perfect and it's chasing impossible. Yet still so worth the investment.
Joy is the margins in the pursuit of happiness, the little victories, the pleasant surprises, the feasible, the within arms reach, the butterfly that lands in your hand.
It is unlikely but everyday at the same time, and it's the small-reward incentive that comes from just existing, and sometimes appreciating the little things makes all the difference.
Anything can be both, but they are not always the same.
Arden
A feeling unexpected bursting from the chest
A wonder at what happened, embracing the best
A terrible thirst quenched from a dry well
That's what joy is, a surprising mirthful spell
Now happiness, it's that long smolder smokin'
Something many pursue their lives s hopin'
It'a a warm soft rain to soak up the cold
Or a lustful hope that strains young out of old
A replenishing vigor to take all of life's chores
And churn them into a gooey pit of delicious smores
It is a glowing thing to be cultivated, a a secret garden
For nothing can sprout without determination in this Arden
so work it through the night with sweat pouring from the brow
A little groan and grit may deliver a smile in the here and now
And tomorrow a little green treasure may sprout with a booming shout
To reveal its secret, perservence is what happinesss is all about.