How badly do you want to be happy?

How badly do you want to be happy? What are you doing to get there?

You are always living: You walk, stumble, fall and get up. You are born, grow, age and die. You do, undo, retreat and advance.

What difference does wanting to be happy make in your life? Just one: that you resist unhappiness.

And your resistance stings you as if you were trying to push away the live coal with your bare hands; it gnaws at you as if you wanted to erase your experiences with an aggressiveness that only throws your footsteps out of true. You rebel against a restlessness that is nothing but the result of that very rebellion.

And what, then, are you opposing? This: being disturbed in your comfortable sleep.

Perhaps you do not want to be happy, but only to rudely demand that life let you sleep. You want comfort, green paths, juicy fruit and sunny skies. Perhaps you do not want to be happy, but to have your whims served and your ideas revered.

From the sky comes sun, but also rain. In the jungle live friends, but also predators. Paths can be gentle, but also rocky. The bed can be comfortable, but there will also be times when you have nowhere to lay your head.

And what can you do to be happy? One thing: Accept that, in the midst of this impenetrable and enormous mystery that is life, you are no one.