We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
Freud famously discussed the Psychiatric goal as one of replacing neurotic unhappiness with normal unhappiness. When Freud wanted to feel merry, he would do a little coke and jump on his wife. I think he preferred coke to alcohol for merriment.
Certainly real life is tragic in many ways, real life is full of worries, joy is fleeting, no promised rose garden, etc etc.
I may be blessed in that, despite all of my own inner concerns and real life challenges and worries, I often find myself humming contentedly or smiling for no reason. Sometimes I think that might come from a life in Christ, and sometimes I think it's just me. I was a depressed, unmoored adolescent.
FYI, the State of Maine's constitution provides (Section 1) that "All people are born equally free and independent, and have certain natural, inherent and unalienable rights, among which are those of enjoying and defending life and liberty, acquiring, possessing and protecting property, and of pursuing and obtaining safety and happiness." Actually obtaining--not simply pursuing--safety and happiness is your right, Comrades. College crybullies take note: Maine has enshrined your battle whine in its paramount law. Move ye thither, especially since winter is icumen in.
There are few things in my life that bring me joy. Time spent motorcycling, time spent with friends, and time spent motorcycling with friends being among them. For other times I make merry as best I can and tell myself jokes. I can be quite funny.
For instance. After reading the web article about the passing away of the inventor of Viagra, I sent a link to the article to my sibs with the comment:
Asked for a statement on the passing of (forgot name) a family spokesperson replied' "It's been very hard."
Growing up poor and improving one's lot certainly makes one sure that they do not want to be poor again. I find it easy to have empathy, but hard to have sympathy, for the poor. Nothing against being wealthy--I am not, but I strongly advise it--I find that I have contempt for the condescending rich.
Joy, elation, peace of mind, contentment, freedom: Sometimes I am these; happy, I'm not so sure. It is an elusive state of bliss that remains temporary for me. I am not even sure that I would want to be in a perfect state all of the time.
I am still in pursuit. It is the journey, not the destination.