I listed twelve or thirteen moments, and went to work and to play with them. There’s a kind of ecology to it all, and always something to learn. Just remember that you aren’t able to be happy right now, unless you immediately for one moment think of from telephone soliciting, I walk hurriedly down Pearl Street in the darkness. This burden manifests in many ways, but one could say its root is human consciousness itself, particularly consciousness of death, or identity aware of its dissolution.
It’s only three blocks, but it seems much more — it’s the time of the day when I’m most alone. The only people who I feel are really happy are those who shallowly deny this gift/burden (whistling past the graveyard) or those who have not quite reached human identity (like a retarded person) or those who have passed beyond it (like a Christ).
In fact, a wise man is one who is neither overjoyed in prosperity nor takes adversity to heart. I was very much anxious because the question of my career was involved in it.
last year, I passed the Higher Secondary Examination. A day earlier, when the result was expected to be published in the local newspapers, I spent a restless night.
Dominating the entire scene was a soda fountain with a large banner that read . In the wonderful movie, “Twenty-six Days of Dostoyevsky,” Dostoyevsky’s young, idealistic stenographer (later to be his wife) asks him if he was ever happy.
Terry, my husband, had built the set and was now backstage as the play’s director. He says, ponderously, no, he has never known happiness. He was one of fifteen political prisoners lined up in three rows of five in front of the firing squad.Even my friends who were intellectually converted to socialism in college don’t have the vision I intuitively grasped that makes these events fall into place; as a society, we are blind to ideas that are perfectly clear to illiterate peasants in other parts of the world. I struggle to describe what this four-year-old felt, but my heart remembers it well. I must have understood that no one else saw the dragonfly; no one remarked upon anything out of the ordinary.I was an atheist for many years, but finally I’ve become a Christian (without repudiating my Marxism). I myself didn’t speak of it for another fifteen years, not because it was a secret; it was a moment of reality in my life. I like to think of happiness as a state of being that transcends moment-to-moment life; I can’t bear to think that happiness rests (precariously) on moments. But moments are a subjective unit of time and they can be infinitely stretched. It’s the same moment as when I started writing this. After all, what more could a writer want than to see his or her words come to life on stage and move an audience? Now, amidst the laughter and the applause and the tears of the audience, I was finally able to let go of my grief. Barbara Mitchell Park Forest, Illinois a happiest moment. I hope my death is my happiest moment, because if my happiest moment comes before death, then it’s all downhill from there, isn’t it? Can happiness be measured in terms of the quality of moments?There is hardly any living being who has never gone through ups and downs in his life.In fact, life is full of bad as well as good incidents.Mary Umberson Roxcon, Texas years old my baby sister was born, and the family took a trip to visit Aunt Elma and Uncle Arthur. a joy so overwhelming as to be almost paralyzing engulfing me. Perhaps only a child or a child-like heart can receive a divine visitation with such un-self-conscious acceptance.I remember Queenie and Prince, the two beautiful, huge, red dogs who lived on the farm with my aunt and uncle, and I remember waking up in the morning to the smell of bacon and eggs cooking on a gas stove, and I remember my cousin Freddie cutting my cantaloupe into perfect little orange squares. the humid, silent air filled with songs of praise and thanksgiving . I still feel a thrill of happiness whenever I see a dragonfly, but I don’t look for another experience of transcendent ecstasy.Suddenly, there it was — spotlights focused on the small restaurant with its few tables and chairs, the brass cash register, catsup and mustard bottles, dishes, glasses, a coat rack. About three minutes into the play, I waited for the lines that were supposed to bring the first laugh. At the point of stretching limits, the burden of life feels the greatest, and yet these times are clearly the best for me.One actor, seated at stage right, was eating a hamburger and sipping coffee. The actress who was playing the waitress scurried back and forth, coffee pot in hand. By this time, the audience was attentive and very quiet. I closed my eyes when the actors delivered the lines. In this sense, Christ’s “happiest” moment must have been inexorably involved in the burden of dying on the cross, facing in action the final fear consciously, awake.