I was laying on the rug in the lounge last night, tv on, lamp lit by my side, cat stalking around the room and for the first time in ages I felt genuinely happy. It came upon me quite unexpectedly, but the real shock was that until that point I wasn’t even aware that I wasn’t happy. But then, for a few minutes in a wave that grew and grew, expanding outwards in a kind of burning bursting pride (and I know pride is a sin) I felt that all was right with me and the madness was banished. For a while at least.
It happened again today. Happiness. Little moments of happiness. One can only guess what the ultimate cause of these spontaneous outbreaks of happiness is, but undoubtedly a sense of having some control over my life is playing a part.