On happiness

So thankful :)

(Please let me indulge myself one more time.)

I remember the first time I wrote about happiness was in July last year, when the roti prata stall in school just reopened and I remember telling my classmate (Zenneth! Hi Zenneth!!) that this was the best thing that had happened to me that year so far. And right after I said that I thought about it for a long time — did this mean that there wasn’t anything better happening in my life? I never really felt truly sad about my year before that, though I was beginning to question it.

But I also realised — this is enough. It is enough to appreciate what I currently have. I remember, after first having this thought, that everything started to look so beautiful. The world is so beautiful because I have eyes that can see the world. My eyes aren’t very good at their job but my glasses help; a true marvel of Physics, precision and perfection. Even beyond that, just waking up and believing in myself. That isn’t a feeling that was always there (I’m glad to have acquired it). And now, in Berkeley: this is some damned amazing weather. I’ve traded the petrichor smell for the marijuana stench, which isn’t great, but at least the sun isn’t lava and I get to actually enjoy it, and I could probably walk all day if I had the athleticism to match. There’s a lot of small things that I get to appreciate every day, again and again. For that I am grateful.

I suppose another part of my own happiness is a result of others’ happiness. In the way that I watch other people be happy whether directly from my actions or not (and whether they realise it or not). I’d say most of my quiet sacrifices are made to my family but kindness and care exhibits itself in sometimes-mysterious ways. Making other people happy makes me feel like a better person; I suppose being moral makes me happy too.

Possibly the first time I ever tried putting this into words was after watching Wings of Desire (1984) and Perfect Days (2023), both by Wim Wenders (happy birthday Wim Wenders!). I wrote this review for Wings of Desire on Letterboxd that does tie in rather nicely with all this; Perfect Days is another great slice-of-life movie that just makes you think. I am so thankful that I’ve found movies, good ones, that I can now reflect upon and write about.

Being halfway across the world from all the people I’d loved and cared about was really terrifying to me. Suddenly I’m missing so many key milestones of the people I care about so much (most recently medicine’s white coat ceremonies) and it does pain me not to be there. To all my friends: remember that I believe in you; I know you believe in me too. This is not something that we owe each other but is something that I sincerely believe.

These days I sometimes struggle to find the correct words in American English (“bandaids” being a great recent example) (can someone tell me how to transcribe “kiasu” into proper English? I’ve been thinking about this lately. My first thought was “kancheong”, which doesn’t help at all.) and I’m constantly reminded that I’m not at home. At the same time this is where I’ve always wanted to be and I know I will be fine (better than that).

As a closing I’d just like to thank all the people and experiences that brought me to point. You inspire me every day. Thank you.

Come what may, this is happiness. I cannot wish for anything better. Now, for a few minutes, I can experience perfection and I feel profoundly grateful to my life, which gives me so much. - Cries and Whispers, Ingmar Bergman