Making Others Happy

I am convinced that it is our purpose in life to make others happy. 

We do this through a limitless number of ways. We teach, we serve, we listen, we share, we love, we pay attention to details, we say crazy random things when we're tired... and in each of those ways along with millions more, we make someone else happy.

I realized today as my miserable prolonged sickness finally reached the point of laying in bed with a copy of Hunger Games why it is that I am so easily broken up by people walking out of my life.

It's because that happiness is gone. 

It's because I will never again see them smile or laugh because I something I did. And not only the absence of that happiness in their lives from me but also that my presence in their life causes the opposite effect-- sadness. 

How depressing is the idea that someone is happier without you in their life? 

That you are something that makes them sad or causes them pain?

When you want to be everything for someone else and live off of their happiness as it becomes your own.. When suddenly your world isn't your own because it's a continuous cycle of happiness from others which makes you happy which makes them happy... 

It's difficult to find a new beginning to a circle.

There's also something special about accepting people-- no matter who they are or what dumb little flaws or irritations they may include.

Some have put it this way:

Everyone has an identity. It's how they want to be. You can call it their "beingness."

How great is it to realize that you love someone entirely-- that you don't necessarily love their little quirks but that it is part of who they are so you automatically look past those things. And how great is it to have the confidence that someone sees you that way? To be close enough to someone where you're not self-conscious as to your actions, always waiting to be judged by them.

That's my realization for today- that my fear of losing people I've allowed to enter my life is not so much due to the fear of being alone-- I was alone before they came into my life so I will be fine once they leave it-- but that I fear that I will no longer be enough to be part of their happiness or to be accepted by them entirely. 

Well, that realization and also a short blonde moment in which I finally figured out where the term "mutt" came from. It comes from mutation. A mutt is a mutation from an original form.