The Hidden Journal

Happiness used to feel like a flash —
bright, brief,
something that came and went
before I could hold it.

───

But happiness isn’t a moment.
It’s a practice.
A slow art made of choosing peace
again and again,
even when the world forgets how to be gentle.

───

The art of staying happy
isn’t about ignoring the ache.
It’s about giving joy permission to stay
beside it.

───

I water small things now —
morning light,
a quiet meal,
the softness of being seen.
And somehow,
that’s enough to keep the garden alive.

───

Happiness doesn’t ask for perfection.
It asks for presence.
To keep noticing the good
before it fades into normal.

───

This is how I stay happy —
not by holding on tighter,
but by remembering
how easily it finds me when I’m still.

───

— Desiree