This poem was read at our wedding:
So Much Happiness
It is difficult to know what to do with so much happiness.
With sadness there is something to rub against,
a wound to tend with lotion and cloth.
When the world falls in around you, you have pieces to pick up,
something to hold in your hands, like ticket stubs or change.
But happiness floats.
It doesn’t need you to hold it down.
It doesn’t need anything.
Happiness lands on the roof of the next house, singing,
and disappears when it wants to.
You are happy either way.
Even the fact that you once lived in a peaceful tree house
and now live over a quarry of noise and dust
cannot make you unhappy.
Everything has a life of its own,
it too could wake up filled with possibilities
of coffee cake and ripe peaches,
and love even the floor which needs to be swept,
the soiled linens and scratched records . . .
Since there is no place large enough
to contain so much happiness,
you shrug, you raise your hands, and it flows out of you
into everything you touch. You are not responsible.
You take no credit, as the night sky takes no credit
for the moon, but continues to hold it, and share it,
and in that way, be known.
It still makes me tear up reading it again now, and I love that we have a framed handwritten version in our bedroom, which was a present from my husbands niece who read it on the day.
This morning an inspiring lady I met at a meeting texted our sober group as it was her ninth anniversary of being sober- what an amazing achievement! The happiness I have for her, and that chance that I have to find the same happiness, one day at a time, is quite magical.
I texted her this:
Happiness for me isn’t about what I have or want, but what I have right now- today. I need to work so much on accepting what is and being grateful for it, but having inspiring women in my life like her really help me appreciate the journey.