We'll be drinking margaritas by the sea, mamacita.
I always thought if I had no worries, no responsibilities, and could drink margaritas by the sea, things would be okay with the world.
One Thanksgiving I had the chance. My husband had a Social Studies conference in Florida the week before Thanksgiving. We traveled along and spent our days at DisneyWorld while he was in meetings. When the conference was over we went to Clearwater Beach for the Thanksgiving holiday. Stayed in a hotel right on the beach. And on Thanksgiving Day as we sat there by the pool, I drank margaritas. No worries, no problems, no responsibilities.
And yet, no bliss.
That thing I held up as the representation of what happiness would be, didn't turn out to be. I went all the way to Florida and had a great trip, but happiness in that very moment eluded me.
I think about happiness a lot. Or maybe it's contentment or bliss. I do know, now more than ever, that I'm more happy at home than anywhere else. It's not about the dollars in the bank, the stuff in my house, or the travels I've taken.
It's right here, right now. It's when I write, when I read, when I take pictures, when I sew. I'm just as happy sitting on the couch reading a magazine as I am sitting on a beach drinking margaritas.
Traveling through the town of Bliss with my mom, this sign (and the surrounding view) got me thinking about that happiness factor again. Dilapidated, run-down buildings and unkempt empty lots welcome us to Bliss, Idaho.
Not quite what I would define as bliss.
