Anal Beads... I Mean, Happiness

In trying to put the concept of happiness in the proper context, I'm avoiding philosophy, or worse yet, ethics. Energy in our squishy little world seems to go through a cycle. Part of this cycle, one might say, is happiness. Or perhaps happiness is the ability itself of the cycle to be completed rather than hung up on one part.

The latter might be more akin to happiness as the yogi's acceptance, where one accepts all that comes with equanimity. That state seems dismal at first, but if one sees it through it can flower into something much more redeeming, something that could be explained rather crudely as "happiness." Ah, well, crudeness is simple, so this is not without appeal. I am happy to exist, however that turns out.

Wilhelm Reich's version of the cycle (tension -> charge -> discharge -> relaxation) works for me. Just as there is no orgasm without an initial sexual tension in the muscles, happiness also must follow certain tensions. It will come and it will go, all the while providing us with an indigenous chemical reward system that guides us through the terrestrial matrix.

I've noticed this cycle occurring many times over in my life thus far, and not by chance so much as by an equal balance of points and counterpoints. You can't avoid either side of the coin. Even when I've tried to remain in a sad state, I've failed terribly. Or failed rather joyfully, you might say. The best we can do, as far as I can tell, is be an honest witness to change.

So, just breathe, I guess. Fuck, don't look at me. I don't know.