I collect moments of peace

A few years ago, I bought an off-white porcelain travel mug with the word HAPPY written on the side. During the colder months, this mug is never out of arm’s reach. I refill it hourly with coffee, tea, or cocoa, cups of comfort. But recently, I have noticed the word written on the mug rarely matches my mood.

I carry around a mug that promotes happiness, like it’s the only acceptable emotion, all day long. And honestly, this nonstop reminder to be happy has filled me with more rage than smiles.

When I was kid, and well into my adult life, I thought happiness was the ultimate #lifegoal. I thought adhering to social norms would make me happy. I thought a college degree, a husband, babies, vacations, botox, diets, and a two-story, 4-bedroom home with a pool was the only path to happiness because, unfortunately, that’s what my adolescent brain was exposed to.

Now, as I continue down the path of sobriety, I am learning to collect moments of peace, rather than striving for whatever happiness is. Peaceful moments happen when I slow down, notice how I am actually feeling, and mindfully re-enter my body after a long day of pretending to be “happy.” Peace, to me, is like an inner sense of calm. No matter what I am feeling, peaceful moments help bring me and my big, scary emotions back toward middle ground.

I have turned peaceful, quiet moments into daily rituals. Lighting a candle, cuddling with my dog, long walks at the nature trail up the street, preparing a comforting meal, watering my plants, hot baths, frequent trips to the library, deep breathing practices, fresh air on my lunch break, journaling, and wearing fuzzy socks are all things I can do to help collect a little peace.

 

In her latest book Atlas of the Heart, Dr. Brene Brown describes 87 different emotions humans experience. *Eighty-seven.* If this is true, why am I so hung up on happiness?

Maybe it’s normal to feel 87 different emotions in a single day. Maybe, as Brene suggests, the North Star to healing isn’t happiness. Maybe the bright light guiding us home lives in naming, feeling, and learning from all of our paradoxically messy emotions - while refilling our cups with moments of peace along the way.

Let me know if anyone finds a travel mug that says:

I collect moments of peace.