It's 3:37, and I can't sleep. I have to wake up at 9 to volunteer at the museum tomorrow (actually, today). Needless to say, this is an inconvenience. Insomnia sneaks up on me at the best of times, usually the result of reading or thinking too hard close to when I want to sleep. Yes, apparently sudoku is also something I can't do past 10, including watching TV or eating anything. My mistake- so now I'm in for a lovely couple of hours before I have to get out of bed. I'll be productive.
What, exactly, is the value of a happy life? The point of life is to find a sense of joy in everything you do. When you hear a story about a happy old couple living together in a pretty little house by the ocean, being visited occasionally by their grandchildren and going on walks and trying to cook new foods, there's an immediate "awww" reaction, and the undeniable sense that this would be the perfect ending for any life, one where you were at peace. Nothing too exciting anymore, just a return to basics. Gardening, the natural world, and the presence of a loving family should bring people joy, and I confess that a part of me wants this desperately: the simple ending, a vague understanding that you are happy in some sense, you are grateful for what you have because it's all you really need. I feel as though the people who are lucky enough to find this are admired at a level far below the everyday concept of success, and I'm slowly driving myself absolutely insane by asking why.
Happiness is an emotion, and triggered by different things in different people. In some, its excitement and thrills, while in others, its just a normal day spent at simple, dull tasks filled with familiarity. The physiological basis is exactly the same: a rush of dopamine and serotonin, the lighting up of pleasure centers in the brain. So if everyone were rational and concluded that happiness was the end goal of a life, they wo
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I am now tired. It is 3:38, and I am feeling more tired. Maybe writing boring essays voluntarily should be my new sleep trick.
What, exactly, is the value of a happy life? The point of life is to find a sense of joy in everything you do. When you hear a story about a happy old couple living together in a pretty little house by the ocean, being visited occasionally by their grandchildren and going on walks and trying to cook new foods, there's an immediate "awww" reaction, and the undeniable sense that this would be the perfect ending for any life, one where you were at peace. Nothing too exciting anymore, just a return to basics. Gardening, the natural world, and the presence of a loving family should bring people joy, and I confess that a part of me wants this desperately: the simple ending, a vague understanding that you are happy in some sense, you are grateful for what you have because it's all you really need. I feel as though the people who are lucky enough to find this are admired at a level far below the everyday concept of success, and I'm slowly driving myself absolutely insane by asking why.
Happiness is an emotion, and triggered by different things in different people. In some, its excitement and thrills, while in others, its just a normal day spent at simple, dull tasks filled with familiarity. The physiological basis is exactly the same: a rush of dopamine and serotonin, the lighting up of pleasure centers in the brain. So if everyone were rational and concluded that happiness was the end goal of a life, they wo
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I am now tired. It is 3:38, and I am feeling more tired. Maybe writing boring essays voluntarily should be my new sleep trick.
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