Dogs, dusk and happiness

I was asked recently, "are you happy?"

Not the first time I've been asked that. Not the first time I mused on the question before giving an answer.

Eventually I answered. But I haven't stopped rolling that question round and round in my head. While I've made a decision to stop over-analysing everything, I am also trying to be a little more reflective.

No, I'm not too sure how all that is going to fit together either. I'll get back to you on that some other time.

So, am I happy...?

I am not in pursuit of happiness. That much I know. I think it's a foolish goal to set myself - to be happy.

One can only be.

And if one experiences some happiness along with everything else, then that starts to sound like balance.

I'm in pursuit of balance.

I fall over a lot though.

This weekend I took a stroll on my own through some nearby woodland, just after dusk. OK, I wasn't exactly on my own - I had my dog to keep me company and stop me looking like a complete weirdo.

Have you ever noticed the way that in poor light if you stare directly at something you've seen out of the corner of your eye, it seems to disappear?

This happened a lot, not surprisingly, while walking in the fading light of the day.

It became a kind of metaphor for me, or more accurately for the way I have pursued 'happiness' in the past - like it was something you had to give 100% attention to in order to obtain, to possess.

Yet somehow the more I would focus on it the more elusive it would always become.

Once or twice while out on my walk I lost sight of the dog and got a little anxious - how on earth would I find her in the dark?

But when I stopped looking, there she would inevitably be, visible out of the corner of my eye.

And what's more, I didn't need to go looking for her - she always came looking for me.