In my currently hectic life, I can't help but wonder. What does it mean to live, to be happy? You know, wake up in the morning and spring out of bed, know that today is something worth enjoying, that today is going to be a good day. I try to think of the days that I felt this way and not many come to mind. Perhaps, during these times, I am only living for myself. I'm doing what I need to do and nothing more.
I know that when a younger boy was depending on me each and every day to reassure him, I was awake and ready. I felt that my life had meaning. It had value. He used to call me at all hours and I was there for him, even when my eyes refused to stay open. I felt that I had a bigger purpose. I think that living means doing things for others.
Happiness seems to come to me when I am helping. I like feeling as if I am making a difference for someone. Even if it is only temporary, it is nice to believe that I am making their life a little easier.
If you ever need a pick me up, do something kind. You'll feel so much better about yourself and the type of person you are. It might not solve your problems, but taking care of someone else is a good way to take care of yourself.
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