The Terrestrial Guide to a Happy Life

Image courtesy of Christianto Soning.

Welcome sorrow and pain. 

Let these waves crash into the shores of your neural networks;

Then, gradually, the sand will crumble and fall into the salt of history.

Listen to your bones and organs—

They, too, need love.

Become a fearless warrior to the weight of the invention of time.

Grow sweaty basking in the rays of even the tiniest of feats,

And then shower in a too high of expectation’s stardust stream of consciousness.

Soon to realize the clock’s worth: it’s now time to rest.

Study starlight. 

Welcome a stranger in at night.

Listen to the stories of everyday angels.

Observe smiles and teeth,

The very puzzle pieces of the Homosapien.

See the dust particles on your lover’s eye—

They too might have a story to tell.

Give your opals and rubies to someone.

Mount onto freedom like a finally uncaged creature.

Know your mind and its terrible tendency to deceive you.

Get to know your most loyal friend group who never leaves your side: 

Oxygen, Nitrogen, Neon, Hydrogen, Carbon Dioxide.

Catch them in your hand and tango. 

Observe your superior: the sky up above with its freckled face of clouds;

Praise the effort put into each color of the rainbow.

Lather yourself in nothingness for a while and see how that feels.

Sit still,

Meditate on Earth’s revolutions,

Feel the orchestral rush of the universe reverberate through your nervous system.

The rotations of the galaxy dizzy your mind into a playful frenzy.

Keep Note: The great Earth never ceases to spin throughout your time here.

Feel the wind’s pass. 

Dance to the moon and the sun’s disco—

The world’s most natural serotonin medications.

Pick up a beetle, care for it like it’s your very own child; you’ll see how God feels.

Let things die.

Venture to a mountaintop, look all the way down up and all around.

Let humility seep through your pores, unpack its bags, and get comfortable in your insides.

Watch a buzzard prey and realize you could have been him.

Prolong happiness like the slow sink of a summertime sun in the heat of July.

Slowly setting, let yourself sink down into

the Earth when you are through.

You would be too noble to think this Earth needs you like you need it.

Your temporary playground doesn’t need anything, especially not from you,

And still it offers its hand, over and over: a cradle for humanity.