happiness

Have you ever thought about happiness? (hint: the answer is "no.") Maybe, you've thought about your sadness, or other people that were happy while you were down, and wondered why they got to be that way while you were miserable, but when you were happy, you probably didn't think much about it. You were too busy being happy.
Or, that's the way I am anyway.

My psych teacher said the other day that the reason there are good songs about being depressed and not as many, not as good songs about being happy or in love or what else, is because happy, in love people are too busy living life. They are at the park. The movies. Hanging out, having fun, doing other stuff. Broken hearts sit at home, mulling over things, sublimating their emotions into songs. I think that there is probably a bit of truth there, sure. But I also feel that there is much more to it than that.

Happiness is complacent. Happiness doesn't create. Happiness doesn't progress.
Happiness is a sedative.

Whether I'm happy or not, I still play guitar. But, my emotions don't require my thoughts when I'm content with how things are. So many good songs come from negative emotions because they beg us to pay attention to them. (Why do I feel this way? What is wrong with me?) This also causes all progress in general. If I'm happy with the laws, I don't try to change them. If I'm content with my job, I don't look for a new one. If I see nothing wrong with the way people think, then I don't challenge them. Disquietude is necessary for anything to get done.

Today, I started thinking about what probably causes me to be happy. I mean, what really is going on inside myself. I think if more people thought about their happiness, it would be depressing.