I’m revisiting this subject, because happiness never seemed an ingredient in the lifes of Queen Sophie and her sons, and not even in her husband’s, the King’s, life. I’ve been wondering about how things were living in those palaces where the King and Queen fought their little wars. There was this one particular scene playing in my head.
“The Queen was talking about happiness, and about how she wasn’t. Eventually she turned to a maid and asked: “What do you think, miss?” The maid looks up briefly at the Queen while handing out tea. She only mutters: “Hmmm,” not wanting to answer. The Queen tries again: “Miss, are you happy?” Having finished putting the tea and cups on the table the maid stands up straight and answers the Queen: “I don’t have time to be happy.”.”
 |
| This is what my life looked like the last couple of weeks (only 2) |
Looking back at the past months at work, it’s been so busy, I forgot being miserable about my work. It has to do with the more variety and the fact that I now consciencely seek the variety. My chore task still doesn’t excite me. I was blisfully and ignorantly happy for a couple of weeks till it hit me again this morning in the metro; “I don’t want to this job.”
Here I have to admit to what was said: “When you’re busy doing stuff, you don’t have time to think about being happy. Conclusion: thinking about happiness is a luxury.”
Yeah, I can see that. However, I still don’t agree with the statement that if you’re too busy to think about happiness, you’re probably not happy.
The last couple of weeks I was pretty happy. At work I forgot being miserable eventhough I was doing a job I don’t like much. Looking back, that was blissful.
Oh well, so many skies, so many people. Every difference in situation and person might provoke the opposite result.
No comments:
Post a Comment