There was a time when every shift in circumstance felt like a tremor underfoot. A lost job. A disagreement with someone dear. A dream that dissolved. In those moments I felt my happiness slip like sand through my fingers. It seemed fragile as glass. If what made me happy could vanish, my life always felt precarious. Until simple truth began to whisper through the cracks. What if real happiness was not tied to what happens around me? What if it rose from something deeper—something that carries me even when the winds change?
Picture a boat anchored in calm water. When the water shifts with waves or wind the boat moves. If the boat believes its stability depends on the water outside, it will forever drift in fear. Every swell becomes a threat. Every change a source of alarm. That is how happiness feels when built upon conditions. It moves when they move. It trembles when they tremble. It clings to what seems stable even when that seeming is an illusion.
Now imagine the same boat, rooted not to the water but to the bedrock beneath. The water can swirl. Storms may rise. Yet the boat stays steady. It rides with dignity. It remains anchored not because of the waves but because of what lies under the waves. That is the shift. That is the turning from building happiness on what passes to anchoring happiness in what endures.
When happiness rides the tide of all events it does not mean ignoring events. It does not mean pretending the waves are not there. Rather it means seeing them differently. The waves become movement. The storms become signals. Loss becomes a teacher. The harder the wind blows the deeper the roots of our being grow. In that state nothing outside can uproot us. Even when the world shakes the center within stays calm.
To live this way feels like living with windows open when the rain comes. Water splashes against the glass. The wind whistles through cracks. Rain pools on the floor. Yet there is no fear. Instead there is gratitude. Because these conditions awaken senses: the sharp scent of rain on earth, the muted rumble of thunder, the way light refracts through falling droplets. The body knows it is alive. The heart knows it is safe. The spirit knows it is whole.
Those who tie their happiness to sunshine may discover it lind when clouds gather. They may find fear, loss, grief or confusion robbing their sense of joy. Children playing in golden light appear precious. A warm hand held in trust seems necessary. A soft breeze on the neck proves essential. When these things vanish happiness seems to vanish too. What was built crumbles when foundation moves.
But when happiness comes from the bedrock within nothing outside can take it. That does not mean life ceases to matter. It means life becomes more. Loss still hurts. Disappointment still cuts. Confusion still lingers. Yet none of them steals the knowing: that at the core there is a presence that watches, that endures, that loves without conditions. That presence cannot be destroyed, shifted or dimmed by external events. It simply is. Always has been. Always will be.
In real life this truth changes how I respond. When I once heard bad news I braced myself. I expected fear. I expected desperation. I measured loss. I looked for ways to protect what felt fragile. Now I hear the same news, and I listen quietly first. I feel the body’s tremors. I acknowledge fear. I allow emotions to have their say. I don’t fight. I don’t rush to patch over pain. Instead I remember where true happiness lives. I breathe deeply. I anchor into presence. I hold the pain tenderly without believing pain will define the outcome.
Something shifts inside then. The mind still understands loss. The heart still feels grief. The body may shake. But underneath it something watches without judgement. Something that knows: I am still here. I still breathe. I still love. I still hold faith. If circumstances become heavy I accept heaviness. If circumstances lighten I accept light. I stop begging life to stay the same. I stop demanding comfort. I allow movement. I allow flow. I return to the home within from which true joy springs.
In that state life becomes creative rather than reactive. Loss becomes transformation. Pain becomes invitation. Confusion becomes question. And each day becomes open. No longer bound by fear or hope. No longer needing life to obey expectations. Instead flowing with what arises. Responding from clarity instead of survival. Offering love even when the world seems harsh. Holding compassion because I see what lives beneath action: souls reaching for belonging, for love, for remembrance.
Happiness in that sense becomes a declaration. Not of conditions being perfect. Not of events aligning. Not of comfort or ease. But a quiet statement from the inner flame: I live. I love. I see. I feel. I offer. I accept. And whatever happens I remain. I remain grounded. I remain open. I remain connected. Outside storms may howl. Outside weather may rage. Yet inside there is a spring that does not dry. A light that does not dim. A field where even in frozen winters seeds are held alive.
This does not mean detachment from living. On the contrary it invites deeper living. More honest. More vibrant. When pleasure appears I savor. When laughter visits I allow it full space in rib and breath and heart. When sorrow visits I let tears flow. I do not pretend to be immune. I simply let the deep self host all experience. And because I host, I no longer avoid, stall or numb. I meet.
This way ripples through relationships. I cease expecting love to be perfect. I cease believing approval or approval or validation should shape me. I cease needing people to act a certain way for me to feel safe. I open space for authenticity. For vulnerability. For presence. I listen deeply. I gaze without judgment. I respond without reaction. I choose patience before judgment. I choose softness before blame. I choose understanding before anger.
From there the world becomes less demanding. People become less dangerous. Events lose their power to wound. Fear ceases to order my days. I move from life rather than resist it. I flow in the ebb and return of tides rather than try to anchor in shifting sands. In that flow I sense the Holy Experience. Something greater than comfort. Something greater than pain. Something greater than expectation. Something that simply holds everything and loves.
The holy is not somewhere beyond these mountains or above the clouds. It lies inside every breath that knows it is breathing. In every heartbeat that carries love. In the quiet inside before voices rise. In the space between thoughts where awareness breathes. Happiness that rides all events sees both beauty and sorrow, warmth and cold, pleasure and pain, birth and death. It tastes the salt of tears and the softness of morning sun. It feels roots stretching deep under storms. It hears the songs of birds after night. It smells rain falling on thirsty earth. It touches the living world with reverence and presence.
Such happiness becomes not a response but a creative force. It shapes how I move. How I speak. How I meet the world. And it shapes the world inside me so I no longer look for approval. I no longer wait for permission to exist. Because the only permission I ever needed came from life itself. Through breath. Through pulse. Through love steady beneath chaos. Through that whisper that says yes even when everything around says no.
If life asks for meaning I no longer beg. I no longer clutch at reasons. I simply open. Let meaning emerge. Let love pulse. Let presence flow. Let being breathe. Let spirit rise not from building walls around fear but from dissolving walls in presence. Let seeing become offering. Let existing become giving. Let being become love alive.
So if happiness rides the tide of all events that means no circumstance can weaken its hold on me. That means the bad does not overpower. The good does not inflate. Pleasure does not seduce. Pain does not destroy. Everything passes through. Waves come. Storms rage. Then fade. The boat remains anchored. The core remains alive. The heart remains open.
To live that way is simple. Return again and again to breath. Notice light on a wall in morning. Feel warmth between skin and breeze. Hear laughter of children. Taste water. Smell earth after rain. Let senses remind you that you live. Let presence remind you that you belong. Let love remind you that you are home.
If happiness becomes the tide that carries all events then that tide does not rise only when conditions are fine. It pulsates all the time. Sometimes gentle. Sometimes strong. Sometimes silent. Sometimes shouting. But always there. Always alive. Always carrying. Always restoring. Always creating.
And in that tide I remember: I did not create myself. I did not earn the right to be here. Birth was not a ticket. Existence was not a favor. I am here because life wanted me to be. I am here because love whispered yes. I am here because this moment matters. I am here because being matters. And just by being I matter.
So let storms come without trembling. Let loss arrive without collapse. Let pain speak without shame. Let love rise even when fear stands near. Let presence hold all. Let awareness carry each moment. Let happiness ride the tide. Let life flow.
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With gentleness and love,
Jethro Orion
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