Are you talented at being happy in other areas of your life? 

Well. No. I mean. I'm not unhappy but I'm not happy, that's the problem. I'm always wanting more, bigger, best. Although, I'm not entirely sure why.


I don't think that this is an affliction that is purely mine, that's what capitalism is all about right? It's about wanting everything, all at once, right now. Except- we can make do with very little. In fact, that's what I'm doing right now. I have no more than two shorts, a pair of pants, three shirts and some socks. I have a sleeping bag and a bag bag and that's it, and I'm happy. I'm happy. Right now, sitting in a plaza, alone in Agés, watching the fingernail moon rise in the sky. I'm happy. I'm at peace even though there is a vicious sounding dog barking too close for my liking.


And yet. I just can't seem to make the ends meet, not just financially, because god knows I could use more money but in other parts of my life.


My job is fine, it's great actually. I work with some of the most inspiring people I've met and we do good shit.


I know things, in fact, I get paid based on what I can do using what I know. That's a privilege and also, kind of rare.


I have a home, it's not mine, I don't think I'll ever own one, not out of desire but out of circumstance. I don't know anyone my age that gets paid enough to buy a home using nothing but their salary, and with no help from parents or pokies.


I love my home, I have a lot of stuff though. I don't think wealth should be measured in stuff, but I have a lot of stuff and I don't know if that makes me wealthy or foolish or a hoarder.


I love my friends, they are few in number but will run circles based on quality alone over anyone you will know or hope to know.


Boyfriend, I have one and that's tumultuous at times, often, but that's largely kind of ok, except when it isn't and it's really not. It goes in waves, it's just a matter of flatlining that surf.


More importantly, I have four limbs, all working even though they are being tried with a walk across Spain. I have a brain that is unable to count but otherwise works marvellously. I have no family, by choice and circumstance. That's not a bad thing, that's a good thing. I have three degrees, somewhere to sleep, clothes on my back and shoes on my feet.


Are we happy yet?




No because I'm always wanting more. And that's the problem, you can't be happy if you are always wanting something that will forever be alluding you, because "'more" isn't a place. More is infinite and never ending and expansive and all consuming. More is impossible to achieve and yet, here I am trying to get there.


It's ok to be happy with what you have. It's ok to declutter your life and rid yourself of unnecessary things be they chattels or people.


It's ok to stop and to enjoy the things you have and be grateful for them and not strive for something unattainable.


I may not be the greatest person at everything, I may not be a great friend sometimes, or a great partner often, or a good colleague occasionally or a good son.


But, that's ok. Neither are you, and that's ok.


We are ok.


Learning to live in that is where happiness comes from.


Having the newest iPhone is happiness for a moment. Having someone to call using said iPhone about what ails me, that's happiness.



Today was fucking hard. Almost 30kms but a good 12 of them were uphill. My joints hurt and I'm so sore and tired I might just start crying. I actually might, at any given moment.