Maybe...

What makes people optimistic in times of trouble?

It's been a preoccupation of mine for years -- how people in truly awful states of war or famine or sickness continue on with their lives and don't give up. Part of my personal problem with understanding the nuances of optimism has been nurture but much more has been nature: bipolar II has made me more depressed than manic and it's much easier for me to go southward than any other direction.

This weekend, however, gave me some clues about optimism. From Friday morning on, it was one of those few times in my life that I can say was honestly filled with giddy, unmediated joy. Seeing friends, sitting out on the porch on a summer evening, eating grilled kebabs and sour cherry cake, sharing tales of travels, hanging out with Noah, heading to a neighbors' surprise party, gossiping and giggling: all of it fueled me and sustained me in a way that I hadn't been for a long time.

It's not that these happy things haven't been there -- it's that I haven't been particularly receptive to them, preoccupied with my own dark thoughts.

So here's the secret: you have to be looking actively for happiness. You have to appreciate it when you find it. And you have to remember that you had it, so you can look back on it and smile.

Could I be more New Age-y and/or corny? Maybe not. But at this point, hell, I'll take it.

Happily.