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| The Winning Spermatozoon |
I've enjoyed quite a lot of both but there are none that top either list. Also, as I grow older, a lot of things lose their original impact.
When I see a film for the first time, I may really like it, but later it will blend in with all the other good ones that I remember. It's the same with a good time. Something may be momentous when it happens, but will gradually become just a part of the large quilt of experiences that make up my life.
I have many happy memories but oddly there are three separate days that really stand out in memory and it is because of their dreadfulness. They were the kind of awful that, at the time, detached me momentarily from reality. Each involved the extraordinary behavior of people I knew and loved.
I am not about to recount the events but they stand out as crystalline episodes of horror. I don't dwell on them at all and they came to mind as a comparison when I had the idea to write a blog about my happiest memories. I'd rather not remember these unhappy ones but they made me wonder why my happy memories don't compare with them in intensity.
When I tried to think of my happiest memories the three bad ones presented themselves as memories that spring vividly to mind, while the happy ones tended to homogenize into a whole. This concerned me and I had to think of why this had occurred.
I do have very happy memories. I really gave this some thought and came to an interesting conclusion but will take you along the lines of thinking that led me to it.
Do the memories of the unhappy episodes stand out because of some survival instinct? Is it the shock value of an event that imprints it so distinctly on my mind?
The happy memories have no shock value. There may be the element of surprise but not of shock. The happy experiences are also usually longer lasting and as such, the time frame is less concentrated and intense than an unhappy experience.
I thought about the day I was married, being the usual generic notion of a happy day. Is that a happy memory of mine? In a word 'no'. I hate weddings and wanted to elope and spend the money on a honeymoon but my mother insisted. I spent the morning detailing my car to keep my mind off the coming ceremony and post-celebration. I also hate wedding dresses and can't understand people who save for years for the ceremony and reception rather than spending it all on a honeymoon. This isn't criticism, I just don't relate to them.
Well, didn't I enjoy it at the end of the day? No, I breathed a sigh of relief when it was all over. In fact that made me happy. There's nothing like relief to make you happy. I do credit my parents with giving a wonderful reception at our home. I only wish my heart had been in it.
What about having a baby, which is meant to be one of your happiest days? No, it hurt and I felt too sick to be overcome with joy. I loved the result but only after I was capable of feeling normal again. It is a very foolish thing to make women think that they should be overwhelmed with joy after they give birth. I'm sure many feel guilty when they don't feel this way. Some women do, of course, but most are too exhausted or overwhelmed after the experience to feel immediate joy. Some births are kinder than others naturally which helps mother and child bonding.
My mother did a rather sweet thing before I had my son. I asked her if giving birth to me had hurt. She said she was too anesthetized to really notice. Afterwards I told her it had been incredibly painful and that she must have been lucky. I had also been given two epidurals, one when the other wore off. "No," she said, "I lied. I didn't want to worry you."
It's unexpected things that make people happy. For me it's a beautiful day, the sight of the ocean or some other body of water, the quality of sunlight or a storm. Nature has always been my greatest source of joy.
Having eyesight makes me happy. I couldn't enjoy life without mine. I'm not a bit musical and can live without music entirely. I love silence and the sounds of nature. I love the smell of the beach and an ocean breeze.
Living in Hong Kong for three years is one of my happiest memories. Some bad things also happened there but my love of the place was such a buffer these faded away. Most of all the memory of where I grew up makes me happy. I was lucky enough to live in the most beautiful place in Australia.
It had an incomparable view of water and headlands. The colours changed with every angle of the sun and the weather changed the mood and colour of the water. There was nothing like it when, after a sunny day with a dazzling blue sky and calm water, a Southerly buster blew in and the water whipped up into frothy tips, dark clouds swirled above it and lighting forks split the sky.
Sadly my parents sold the place to retire and I mourn the loss of it to this day. I am still eternally grateful to have experienced my childhood in such a beautiful setting. I honestly feel that I am a part of it that has been torn from the whole and, like the Flying Dutchman, destined to wander forever detached from it. Better to have loved and lost, as they say, than never to have loved at all.
The people in my life have proved to be problematical. I need and love the people to whom I am close but all relationships require constant negotiation and tactical redistribution according the moods of those involved in them.
I try to be constant and amenable but I'm still accused of being difficult on occasion. I often think this is because of the other party's change of mood. You know the situation: "It's not me, it's you." The problem is, it is all relative no matter who is right and who is wrong. Perhaps no one is right or wrong. Certainly there are rarely winners.
I do know, however, when I'm in a mood. I feel guilty about it and even tend to apologise instead of just letting it rip. As an only child to a charming yet depressive mother prone to moods I learned to do what I call 'the Boston two step' around her throughout my childhood. This is a bad habit as it didn't prepare me to deal with other people.
I am strong and do stand up for myself, but even when I do I tend to see what the other party is thinking and see myself from their point of view. When I was married and at twenty-four years of age I finally stood up to my mother and lost my temper with her. She hardly spoke to me for the next six months.
My father had always been oblivious to her nature. He didn't understand people at all but just treated everyone well and the same. The result was that he never understood why my mother and I fought. Eventually after he died my mother mellowed and we became close in the way I had always wanted. It may have been late in the day but it finally happened.
Holidays and vacations away always give me pleasure because I love to explore the unknown. I haven't had the money for a while and this has been very frustrating. It's not cause for unhappiness though because I am healthy. I wasn't for a long time. I suffered from Chronic Fatigue for twenty-four years. I first came down with it when everyone thought it was a psychological condition.
Because I had previously suffered from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and Panic Attacks, it was assumed I was imagining things. The fact that I had overcome both those conditions didn't seem to count. Gradually the medical profession along with other professionals realised it was physiological. That was a relief in itself. I was fortunate in that the condition gradually lifted five years ago. I was thrilled to bits. Life became easier again and it's so great to feel good that lack of money doesn't matter.
That brings me to what really was the happiest day of my life. I can say unequivocally that it was the day I was born. Being born is a privilege and there'll always be bad along with the good. The fact is I'm here to experience everything as opposed to not being here.
Life is a happy surprise which is why, I believe, that it's the awful days that create the strongest memories. They don't add up to much in the whole span of my life so I can count the number of these, whereas I can't count the happy ones because there are too many. The former are too rare in the happy event that is life. There are days that are neither happy or sad but just run of the mill. At least they seem run of the mill. Just have flu for a week or feel rotten for some other reason and you'll come back to 'run of the mill' and revel in it. Sometimes, we just take things for granted. The fact that we do is positive in a way. It means nothing really bad is going on. I think that's all part of being happy.
I like to imagine the little spermatozoon, that made up one half of me, swimming against millions of other hopeful, competing spermatoza towards the egg that made up my other half. It's the first race I ever won. It made me the unique person I am against so much competition. I am not going to fail the little guy by not enjoying myself now that I'm here.
THE END.
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