Continuing in my search of what happiness entails, and as a residual effect of recent health events having so graciously bestowed upon me the need to plan, I have been thinking about babies. And spontaneity.
Those who know me know that I like, need, choose to plan/control/leave minimal opportunity for chance to steer me away from what I’ve set my mind to. However, this has typically been reserved for my professional endeavours. My personal life is proof of this as evidenced by my current living situation and my “things are exactly as they should be” attitude. I, as confessed in my previous ramblings, am a hopeless romantic cowarding behind an ambitious, career driven young woman. Prince charming on a white horse. I want love and marriage and babies to happen as they will, with minimal planning on my part. None if possible would be great.
Unfortunately, I have learned recently that this will not be possible. We (referring to the amazing partner that will be blessed to share this wonderfully stressful journey with me) will have to plan and prepare. Medications months before and during. Careful diet. Numerous doctors visits. That will be our life. Kind of takes away from it, no? Well, considering my view of my personal life unraveling like a fairy tale, I’m still letting it all sink in.
Okay, now Vegas. I still haven’t gotten to experience it but I’m thinking it will provide the clearest picture of what spontaneity is. No plans. Just hitting the Strip. Sleeping a little. Enjoying a lot. An abundance of laughter. Mind you, I haven’t experienced it so there’s a chance I’m completely wrong. I have no problem admitting my fallacies so I’ll let you know.
The close proximity of these two events got me thinking about the role and influence of planning and spontaneity on happiness. My Zen-all-is-right-with-the-world attitude let’s me think that it’s all relative. I hope so.
Maybe this (travel, exploration, experiencing newness) is happiness?