Happiness is 50% genetics, 10% circumstances, and 40% intention, some studies say. Bummer! No wonder people have different temperament and contentment. We were born with certain portion of “talent” to be happy. That means we cannot control this 50% of our happiness level.
So let’s say, hypothetically, I’m genetically not a happy person. If I’m married to a person with bad “happiness genes” and we make babies, these babies will be genetically doomed. Won’t they?
The good thing is, we can actually control the rest 50% to be happy. Or happier. That 10% accounts to life circumstances like personal experiences, occupation, health, income, religious beliefs, status, age, gender, geographic factors like where we live. We can “work” on some of those. However, we shouldn’t put efforts solely to achieve these factors because the other big portion is actually what’s happening in our head, what’s in our recent past, and the intentional activities we choose to do. The bad news is, it’s not easy to control. It requires effort.
But take my advice. Every time you feel upset or sad or unhappy, don’t bother too much. Maybe it’s just your genes. Hehehe 😀 😀 :D.
[I’m not good at writing a happy thing. Nor capturing a deep yet simple emotion called: happiness. Most of the times, my writings are result of all negative feelings e.g. sadness, misery, disappointment, loneliness, anger. Nonetheless I always want to write a happy poem. So there I was… struggling to find proper words. Listened to good songs and collected all sweet memories. Oh I was aghast realizing that was not easy.]
Can I just simply say that those crows look more beautiful than they used to be?
They used to be all black and mysterious and dark and ugly and pecking on trashes.
Or I just simply utter that the ghetto is not at all scary?
That quiet avenue offers a bizarre companionship. That metro station doesn’t feel so intimidating.
Those people glance with beaming faces.
Or I just simply write that the huge dog sounds cuter than usual?
He used to bark with his suspicious gaze every time I pass that street. But now he suddenly looks at me with subtle smile and lovely greeting as if he wishes a good evening.
Or I just simply tell that those grayish clouds felt more intense and soothing at the same time?
They contain one source of life and are slowly driven by the flirty wind from the west to the east.
Giving space for the sunlight to hit me and get me squinting.
I think I just can say that the rain is more comforting, the trees are waving pleasantly through my window, the pigeons are flying low with joyful face, and the wind is blowing amusingly around my tiny body.
And I smile. I’m smiling while putting these thoughts into words.