Journey

I sit and listen in amusement to the chitter chatter of a crowded
commuter train. Talk of work and last night's TV programmes and the
latest dilemma in someone's life intermingle to form an overwhelming
noise. Add to that the pulsating beats from music players turned a
little too high and mobile phones sporadically blaring out various
theme tunes and you may come to the conclusion that this is a
claustrophobic, peace lover's hell.

An elderly gentleman snoozes next to a window. I begin to ponder how
much practice it would actually take to be able to block out all of
this noise. A child emits a joyful squeal upon seeing the seaside
looming closer. Pure happiness from such a simple thing, is it really
possible? I think back to the happiness that I felt when I was a child.
The fulfilment of enacting plays with friends, playing in sand,
sledding down snowy hillsides chilling my cheeks as the wind whipped
past. When did everything change? Why does maturity and responsibility
seem so much more important? Why does happiness now need to be so much
more? Simple grains of sand in a sandpit have been replaced with
thoughts of shopping sprees or a brand new top of the range sports car
sitting in the drive.

Happiness now seems to cost more. It takes much more to bring a smile
or to shed a tear. Adulthood seems to bring a desire for greater
fulfilment and the suppression of emotions. There are of course adults
who are happy enough with the latest racing game and openly show their
feelings. Yet these people are often considered to be "big kids" or
they need to grow up. Adults along with greater responsibilities
experience greater levels of stress. If age and experience lead to
unhappiness then is it any wonder why people ponder on what there is to
live for? An answer comes to me as the joyful child runs through the
carriage beaming broadly. We live for love. A happy child is often a
loved child.

At the moment in my thoughts however I am interrupted with the
realisation that there is a woman sobbing to my right. She is crying to
her best friend about how she has just found out that her boyfriend is
a cheating rat. OK so maybe to her love is not so great as it leaves
the heart and soul open to hurt and humiliation. So is there really a
key to happiness? If there is then can it be identified? These are
questions treaded by philosophers for years so who am I to think that I
may be able to answer that?! But my thoughts lead me to think that
happiness cannot lie in one thing, in one emotion, as life is so
complex.

The train reaches its destination and I alight, straightening my
clothes and surveying the scene. A serene, peaceful inviting view of
the countryside meets my eyes. A picturesque landscape, which would be
a peace lover's paradise. Quite a contrast to the cramped, noisy and
stifling train carriage thankfully left behind. My soul lies in this
place. Memories of hillside hikes awash me like the wind whipping
through the shrubbery. I walk slowly across the hillside to a small
village with quaint houses and a peaceful silence unknown to any city
dweller. Leaving this place for a city job was an exciting prospect and
now I am back feeling somewhat different.

I hear my name called softly and I turn to see my family standing
together looking towards me awaiting my presence. I straighten my
clothes once more and follow my sister into the house to deposit my
bag. After gently embracing my family I walk outside. With one hand
clasping a single white rose and a letter, I join the funeral
procession to walk towards the quaint little church in the centre of
the village. Each footstep brings with it a memory. Memories of a time
when we thought that we would be together for many years to come. To
see ourselves turn grey with age. With mourning comes regret. Regret
for not doing so many things that we thought could wait. Regret for
prioritising the wrong things.

Life seems so much more now, as it seems so fragile and incomplete. As
I place the single white rose upon the coffin, I am overwhelmed with a
wave of emotion and sob gently into my handkerchief. My dreams, my
hopes, my reason for living seems to have vanished. My heart feels
empty, as it is no longer fed with the love it grew to depend on. All I
have now is memories, and they alone seem to not be enough. I can no
longer turn to my love for a hug, or someone to brighten my day. Is
happiness really possible when the one person who made me happy and
gave my life meaning is no longer with me? My answer comes in the form
of a gentle pushing sensation. The first kick of our unborn child. I
have a reason to live as I have someone to love. Someone to look after
and someone who will look at the world with such purity, and can find
happiness in the simplest of things. My journey through life continues,
as another journey is soon to start.