Pretty little Childhood Happiness

I used to be happy when I was a little child but had no idea. What I once judged an enormous cliche, today I can acknowledge that is pretty much real. Going back home, throw my backpack onto my bed and rushed back way to play with my sister and friends was my routine. That was no time to waste.

When back home, I sat down with my parents and my older sister to savory my mother yummy’s dishes. At that moment, we used to talk about things that happened in our days, and very soon, my sister and I had to mind the washing up. It was just about time we finished to rush over again to play till dusk. 

Even other memories serve the purpose of warming my soul, such as the smell of cakes freshly backed, our traditional Brazilian coffee, cards, and dominos Sunday’s matches and, of course, the run football leagues with “the boys” in my neighborhood. How many amazing souvenirs!

It does not go without saying those pathetic and useless discussions about what would we like to be when grown-up. It used to be a future so far away from us that did not worth it.

Time has passed by, I grew quicker than foretasted. Although I have indeed achieved many dreams, such as becoming a Journalist, living abroad, speaking other languages, and having quite solid professional experience, still I regret the lack of simplicity and obviousness of my sweet childhood. Playing is no longer a priority. Being with friends and having fun are limited in a schedule overwhelmed by commitments and concerns towards the present and future. 

Looking back, I realized now that what kept myself happy was its absence. The concept of ‘Happiness’ was not needed as it was an inner present. The paradise turns into hell when growing up “we” were urged to search for a manufactured ideal of Happiness, virtually insane and unreachable.  

That is why, more and more, I come to believe that spending our lives in the pursuit of Happiness is a waste of time. Most recently, I have decided to take the maximum advantage of my experiences to when finally becoming elderly, my wrinkles can reflect wonderful and unforgettable memories, the same way as I carry today my pretty little childhood happiness.