Happiness, as a concept, is a baffling one. It’s a state that exists solely in the imagination but we make it a life’s work to try and attain it. As with many of the greatest things in life, recognizing how much of it you already possess will instantly grant you more of it.

So that makes me consider my sources of this elusive term. In a swift departure from the doom and gloom of earlier today in my consideration of the state of the country in which I live, now I’ll focus on the world in which I live, however local it may be.

All things being equal I have my health, though it has been in disrepair in the past, it has been good as of late. This is a great source of happiness. The alternative is pain, acute and chronic, and I haven’t been having much of that at all. Chalk this one up as a victory.

The home which I live is palatial by global standards and I find a sense of peace and comfort being here. Huge source of happiness that I do my best to contribute to and not take for granted.

My interpersonal relationships are all cherished ones and this may be my greatest source of happiness. It is with and through these relationships I collect experiences and memories, the real fodder of life. My material possessions may be few in number but my experiential database is growing larger by the day, thanks in no small part to the people I am so grateful to have. I realize the fleeting nature of this life and the people in it and go out of my way to show my gratitude for this.

There is lack, of course, and there are concerns, as with any life. But my sources of happiness are obvious and numerous. When I compare my life to what it could be anywhere else in the world, literally just by a factor of geography, I would almost always choose the life I have. That is a tremendous realization. It serves to bring me to the present more often and revel in all of my good fortunes, humble as they may be.