Saturday morning coffee with my husband has always been a treasured time. These days, any time I am off work we have “Saturday morning coffee time” as he no longer commutes to work. (He commutes to the dining room.) So although still enjoyable, the fact that we can have ‘coffee time’ almost every day, has caused us to take it for granted.
Today, however, was reminiscent of past coffee times. We picked a topic and began talking. It was a little one-sided however. The reason being that today’s topic was my happiness.
Now since it’s about ME, you think I would be thrilled. (I have a plaque that says “It’s All About Me” that my bowling friends gave me… ’cause they know I tend to be a little self-centered when it comes to bowling.)
But I actually was a little upset. The topic came about because yesterday I mentioned that “I am just not happy these days, and I wanna go away.”
So when my husband began with “Honey, I’ve been thinking about your happiness, and I think I know how to fix it”, I gave him a look. I don’t always want him to fix things. Sometimes I just want him to listen and sympathize.
“What? You don’t wanna hear?”
“Is it gonna make me upset?”, I reply, somewhat jokingly, well aware of the irony in my question. I could feel a lecture coming on, and I usually don’t respond well to lectures.
“Well, I don’t think so….”, And so he begins telling me about his plan for my happiness.
I keep my head down, to show that I’m still not too accepting of him ‘fixing’ my problem. I listen to his knowledge of how happiness is created from within, and not linked to what other people think. And to find happiness, I need to figure out what I’m good at, what I like to do, and what brings me pride. And once that’s determined, I can do those things and not need other people’s acceptance to feel happy.
According to him, writing would do that for me.
“You like to blog. You spend hours a day reading others’ blogs. You write many yourself. You read a ton. You understand words and sentences. The written word is something that has brought you joy from the time you were a little girl.”
Okay. By this time, my head has come up a little. I’m still not too anxious at showing him that I am interested, because that would mean he may be right…. and I’m a little too hard-headed to admit that very easily.
He continues on for a little while. I meakly throw a few argumentative points back at him. He’s quick with his counter-point. I give in, and open up my mind a little.
When he finally decides to “quit beating a dead horse” as he put it, I open my David Baldacci book and begin reading. But inside I’m thinking…. about the possibilities…. about having a goal…. about allowing myself to believe that blogging, writing, reading is not just a way to pass time, but it could be something that would bring me happiness…. and pride.
He stands up to move on to the next part of his day. I lift my head as he does, pucker my lips for a kiss, and mutter a quiet “Thank you, Honey”. I think he knows this is my way of saying… “You may be right.”