I drove to Big Sky for a conference tonight. As I made the turn to the woods I always visit, even though it’s out of my way, I felt an unfamiliar feeling:

I was happy.

As I lay here getting ready for bed, a goofy smile creeps across my face. It’s a blissful, giddy feeling. I’ve been so estranged from pure happiness for so long. Then, out of nowhere, it lands at my feet. I slip it on like an old favorite sweater and dance in twirls and glides across the floor. It’s a lightness, a bouncy, graceful movement. I don’t know how it came to me, but it’s no matter. I won’t press the issue. I will just let the sweet simple melody of joy leave its delicate footprints across my heart.

Happiness feels like possibility. It feels like the doors of my life could still burst open and I might yet have the chance to run through them. For the first time in a long time, I don’t have to convince myself that I’m okay. I just am okay. This is what normal feels like. This is what healthy and capable feels like. It’s like soaring, finding out that you can fly after lifetimes of being too weighed down to even try. The future not only feels brighter, it feels real. 

That’s all it takes to make me feel unsinkable happiness. The knowledge that I can go on living. I can go on loving. I can go on. 

And on. 

And on.

Give ‘Em Hell