and grew up learning that happiness' is not one of the great
things.
It 's not the one that chases two decades, when, like gladiators
you fight the world to come out victorious ...
Happiness' is not what you frantically chasing believing
that love is all or nothing ...
... not 'the strong emotions that make the "pop" and that
burst out with spectacular thunder ...
happiness' is not to scale skyscrapers, challenges from
win constantly test.
grew up learning that happiness 'and' made of little things but
valuable.
... and you learn that the smell of coffee 'in the morning and' a small
ritual of happiness',
enough that the notes of a song, the feeling of a book by
colors that warm the heart,
enough that the aromas of a kitchen,
the poetry of the painter of happiness',
enough that the nose of your cat or your dog to feel a
happiness' mild.
And you learn that happiness' is made of emotions on tiptoe,
of small explosions that quietly expand the heart.
learn that the sea can open your heart,
that you can touch the stars and the sun to shine the
that you can touch the stars and the sun to shine the
eyes
and you learn that a field of sunflowers knows enlighten the face,
that wakes you up the scent of spring from winter
to sit and read under the shade of a tree relaxes and frees
thoughts.
And you learn that love is made of delicate feelings, small
sparks in the stomach, presence of nearby too distant
and learns that time expands and that those five minutes are
precious and long more 'for many hours,
and you learn that you just close your eyes, turn on the senses,
sfornellare in the kitchen, read a poem, write
on a book or watch a photo
to cancel the time and distance and be with loved ones.
And you learn to hear a voice on the phone,
receive an unexpected, happy moments are small.
And you learn to have in the drawer and the heart, small dreams but
precious.
And you learn that keeping a child in her arms is a delightful
happiness'.
And you learn that the more gifts' ones are those who speak of
people you love ...
and learned that there is' happiness' in the urge to write
are your thoughts on paper,
that there is' something to love, happy melancholy
And you learn that in spite of your defenses,
despite your will or your destiny,
in every gull flying there 'in the heart of a small-sized
Jonathan Livingston.
And you learn how beautiful and magnificent simplicity '.
[Anonymous]
May the light of hope is preserved intact, as a magic key that illuminates the path even when the light seems to have disappeared eo away ... a big hug and peaceful holidays to all, ish