Quiet Happiness Isn’t Flashy — But It’s Real

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Quiet happiness.

It isn’t loud. Or flashy. Or showy.

It isn’t even vocalized all that often.

It’s seen. It’s witnessed. Not in the overt gestures. But the subtle ones.

The smiles to one another across a crowded room. The glow in your eyes as you talk about your passions.

Honestly, if you aren’t paying attention, you might miss it. Because we live in a world that tells us we need to scream every success from the rooftops. A modern proverbial tree in the forest. If it isn’t on Facebook and Instagram, it didn’t happen.

But there’s a magic to that subtlety. In the meaning that even laundry and dishes offers. The effortlessness. Like gliding—forward—through life.

Even fights feel effortless. Mostly because they feel authentic.

And description becomes impossible. Because it’s not just the words we speak that tell who we are. It’s everything. The clothing, the smiles, the laughter, the love. It’s a feeling. A knowing. That comes on quietly but stays forever.

It doesn’t demand attention because it’s too self-validating to crave it. So it sits. In utter quiet. Not daring to break the moment. Gently sharing its hidden exuberance with the world. Offering it to those who are ready to see it.

I remember the first time I knew that Garrett was in love me. Or was it when I fell in love with him? I can’t tell anymore.

I was at a Christmas party in one of the busiest sections of the city with zero parking. And he was in residency and working until midnight. And, just after midnight, I turned around and saw him standing there in his scrubs. I was shocked. And I asked what he was doing there. And he said that it’d take me half an hour to get home by public transportation. And that’d be half an hour more he wouldn’t get to see me. So, after a long day of work, all he wanted to do was sit at a party and watch me excitedly tell stories to a crowd. Because watching me made him happy.

It was years ago. And yet it’s a moment my mind won’t let me forget. The quiet moments I don’t talk about so often. Like last night when a friend proposed the question about who’s the spender and who’s the saver over dinner. And we jokingly fought about it at the table. But it was so clear to me that the fight was really about how we love the way we spend and save together—really, how we love to build a life together.

I remember, too, the first time I realized that I was in love with my work. I was on a call with Sherri planning out the next round of the Sacred Circle. And we were analyzing some results we’ve had in the past and unpacking the work even more. (For those who don’t know, we have a two-hour meeting to take the work further every week.) And we began to realize new elements of the work that were hidden in plain sight. Elements that, for the fifth time that week, shocked me.

And I turned to Sherri with tears in my eyes and said, “How the fuck did I get so lucky? Why me? Why do I get to be the water bearer for this work?”

These aren’t moments I shout from the rooftops. They’re quiet ones. They’re subtle ones. They’re happiness.

The whole world deserves that level of happiness. To be surrounded by love. To have people, places, work just fall in love with you. Simply for being yourself. Not for trying. But for say passionately telling a story. Or doing work that you care about. Or even just smiling.

That’s lovable. No matter what’s happened to you or what you’ve done in the past, that’s lovable. And there are people out there who want nothing more than just that. Because it makes them so blissfully happy to just witness you in all of your perfection.

Quietly happy people change the world.

What would it take for you to be that happy?

One Response to "Quiet Happiness Isn’t Flashy — But It’s Real"
  1. Nancy says:

    This made me so quietly happy. Thank you.

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