A few days ago I was feeling sad.
There was no particular source of my sadness – no single or series of events to make me unhappy or bring the tears to my eyes.
Just that general overall feeling of Sadness.
I probably could not explain it if I had to, and I probably don’t need to – because I am sure every human being has those moments or days – or even years – of vague heartache.
I am normally a cheerful person.
So I considered all the things I could count on to cheer myself:
Play with the dog.
Have some ice cream.
Go out for gourmet coffee.
Read a book.
Go makeup shopping.
Talk to my mother.
Take a walk.
Listen to music.
Take a warm lavender-scented bath.
All those things are beautiful activities that always elevate my mood.
So what did I do?
Something so subversive, so revolutionary it didn’t even feel like me.
I gave myself permission to be sad.
Not forever. Just for the day.
I am at heart a happy person.
But sometimes us happy people are under a lot of pressure (self-imposed, usually) to always be happy. To be happy every minute. To look happy. To make others happy.
To be bright and optimist and funny.
Well, just for the day, I said,
I was sad.
Now I can’t say that it felt ‘good’ – I was sad and that is not good.
But if we have an inalienable right to the pursuit of happiness, can we, just once in a while, claim the right to not pursue it – just for a day?
I felt a respite.
A relaxation of my face in letting go of my smile.
A solace in allowing myself the right to be sad.
“I’ll be fine,” I told myself.
“I’ll be fine. Tomorrow.”
And I was.