In small and big moments, this thought takes birth, “The older I get, the less I know about this life and my part in it.”

I continue to fumble over things I believe are true and realize my own attachment to my beliefs and ego sometimes prevents me from saying, “I really don’t know.”  But it is the truth. I question how much we all truly know ourselves and what makes us happy. I make this statement based on my own reflections and conversations with others. So many of us are struggling, in our careers, relationships, and our notions of happiness.

I try to overcomplicate happiness. Because I am an overthinker. But in recent weeks, I am identifying a truth I know that I really know about myself. In simplicity is where I feel a happiness that vibrates in my marrow.

Those flashes of sheer simplicity is where happiness pulses loud and in surround sound. I am noticing these flickers more and more and taking note of how I feel as they are happening.

My morning coffee and a moment of quiet in my office, and the light that glints in-between the blinds. This particular image reinforces the truth, both literally and metaphorically, that there is light after darkness, and we all continue to ride the ferris wheel of what I’ve identified as the pendulum, the swing between sadness and joy.

Without music, I am lost. I often discover and reach for the same song over and over again. Right now, Home by Phillip Phillips, Babel by Mumford and Sons, and Come and Get it by Selena Gomez are my favorites. The contradictions in my song choices are glaring, but that is yet another way I know I am happy.

Contradictions. I spent so much time trying to understand and reconcile this about myself, that I now learn to accept this. I love reading The Great Gatsby, but also like to peruse US Weekly.  Downton Abbey is one of my favorite television series, but I enjoy cheering my hometown football team, the Dallas Cowboys. Mothering is one of the most fulfilling endeavors in my life, but I also crave and need my independence. So many contradictions over so much. But embracing these inconsistencies cements my happiness.

Impromptu hugs from my daughter and movie night with my husband represent some of the simplest times in my day to day life, but I derive so much joy from these activities, I know that I’ve experienced a happiness that is palpable.

Words. Oh, how I love them. Writing and reading offers a happiness that lingers and helps me make sense of the transience around me.

In an odd way, my penchance for melancholy – by noting how time passes so quickly and that  experiencing sadness is a way to really feel the depth of happiness is a place where I also find comfort. It makes knowing and feeling happiness count even more.

These glimmers of happiness teach me that in simplicity there is light.  I still believe I know less and less, but in these moments I understand more.