Happiness, unlike so strongly believed to be earlier by me is not a state of divine discontent.
It is a state of calm. Of wanting to prove nothing. And being sure about what you want, when you want it, and WHY you want it.
It is being content with everything you already have. And being realistic and living so totally in the present that there is very little premise to fall back on to a version of a you in the past you no longer relate to and very little premise to aspire to a version of you in the future you refuse to reimagine.
Happiness is love and being in love and what it does to your soul with the passing of each day. It is smiling for no reason and letting go of daily trivialities that was earlier such strong stimuli for reaction.
Happiness is feeling good about yourself and because of that feeling amazing about everything.
Happiness is finding happiness in things and places and faces and sceneries unexpected.
Happiness is writing after months and months and not feeling like its been months and months since you wrote, almost like seeing an old friend after ages and things being exactly the way they were the last time you spoke.
It is embracing change through acceptance and understanding. Of growing older and wiser and quieter.
It is getting deep and sweet dreamless sleep and being able to bask in bliss of being by yourself in peace. Of looking out while looking in and seeking joy while finding it within.
And lastly. It is the simplest most natural feeling. Just be and by being you will be happy.