Sometimes I forget when I was five, I figured out happiness is found in the Now.
During my elementary school matriculation, a variation on the Theresa-daydreams-during-class comment was added by a helpful teacher's hand at the bottom of my report card. I don't recall my parents being concerned. I think they'd already noticed those quiet moments where I'd stop playing, eyes shiny and body relaxed, and stare in contentment at the wood grain paneling on the wall. Sooner or later I'd come back around to Barbie and G.I. Joe locked in a passionate embrace, as if there had been no interruption of make believe.
I still experience a joyful calm when studying my own grownup walls with their mustard-colored skip trowel texturing. When the Nagging Little Voice opens the floodgates of Anxiety and Doubt, I pat my Kindergartner-self on the head and tell her:
"Show me the crack in the ceiling." Chases away the bully every time.
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