TASK: Happiness

In the cold twilight of another passing year, before we bask in the glow of the coming new one – in the dizzying whirlwind of good intentions, resolutions, should-have-dones and wishes, I ask you to ponder this question: What is happiness to you?

I ask because I dread the question and the topic, which, inevitably comes every time I see my mother-in-law. Although I’m expecting it – from the unending drive to see her, to the minute we’re through the door – she never fails to catch me off-guard. When I’ve relaxed, perhaps smiling, for a split second and forgotten that it’s coming. Then, with witchcraft-like cunning, she pounces on me when I’m alone for a brief moment. She pins me with her dark eyes and coos . . . “Are you happy, love?”

Happy? Yes! Of course! Why wouldn’t I be? Isn’t everyone? By the way, what is happiness?

In trying to understand the startling, jarring, almost inhuman nature of the question, I’ve tried to think about the elusive and varied meaning of happiness.

To me, happiness has always been something invisible: My mother’s soft touch on my forehead as I dosed in bed when I was a child. The first, tentative tickle of cinnamon-and-pine-scented realisation that it’s Christmas morning. The smile from a boy you fancy. A sparkly ring on that finger. My baby in my arms for the first overwhelming, life-defining moment.

But happiness, to me, is also more than just the sum total of those breath-catching moments. It’s also the sight of my sleeping child every night. My husband’s silent presence next to me every day. My mother at the other end of the phone every week. And, somewhere along the line, for me and I think for most people, those moments blend into one great Connect-the-Dots picture of our life. Is it a happy one? For most people, I hope, the answer is yes.

For my mother-in-law, unfortunately, I fear the answer would be no. Because of the invisibility of happiness, I think, some people end up chasing it their whole lives, like a mist-veiled holy grail. Never realising, the grail is right in front of them, if only they’d pick it up and drink.