Choosing Happiness

             A friend of mine who dearly loved my mother just sent me an email saying our family reminded her of “Little House on the Prairie.”  That brought to mind a guy I used to teach with who called us the Flagstaff Waltons.  It causes me to reflect.  

             According to my mother’s count, we moved some 28 times into a series of 1 or 2 bedroom houses.  (Our Minot house had 4 bedrooms, but we rented out 3 of them to college students.)  \

     Once when reflecting on the “good old times,” a friend spoke of the pot under the bed.  Now we didn’t even have a pot under the bed.  If it was too cold to go out we used the slop bucket under the sink.  So when we say we didn’t have a pot to piss in, it was absolutely true. 

        Our life was not golden, but we were a very happy family, because we chose to be.  Listening to a lecture on Prageru.com got me thinking about this.  He says the pursuit of happiness is not a selfish pursuit, it’s an obligation.  We bathe and use deodorant so as not to offend others.  By the same token, we should take on a happy spirit so as not to infect others with our unhappiness. 

         Our move to Arizona illustrates how we somehow knew that.  My four older brothers and sisters had followed their dreams, and my  Dad had always wanted to pursue distant horizons as well, so we packed up our car with what was left of our earthly possessions in the trunk and a carrier on top of our car and the remaining six of us headed for Arizona.   As we headed down Black Canyon Highway toward Phoenix mid-August we were all exuded excitement. We'd stuck our arms out the window of the our un-air-conditioned car and exclaimed “Oh, feel that heat.  Isn’t it wonderful?  Look at that cactus.  Isn’t it beautiful” 

       Some years later, my sister Diane and I were sitting on the couch in our Page trailer house and I said, “I’ve got to tell you, when we drove down that last stretch of highway toward Phoenix, I was appalled.  I could not believe we had done such a dumb thing.  It was God awful hot and ugly.”  Both Mom and Diane said, “Really?  Me too.”  We laughed hysterically at our mutual deceit. 

          How did my parents teach us to choose happiness, to not infect others with misery and gloom?