…And growing up you learn that happiness is not the one made by big things.
Is not the one who you chase at twenty years old, when, like a gladiator, you fight the world to get
Happiness is not what you breathlessly chases, believing love is all or nothing.
Is not even the one of the strong emotions that make the bang and exploding out with spectacular
thunder; happiness is not even the one of the skyscrapers to climb, of the challenges to win testing
Growing up you learn that happiness is made up of small but valuable things.
You learn that the smell of the coffee in the morning is a little ritual of happiness, that just the notes of a song, the feelings of a book made by the colors that warm the heart, the flavors of a kitchen are enough.. only the nose of your cat or of your dog, to feel a soft happiness…
And you learn that happiness is made of emotions on tiptoe, of small explosions that in muted expand the heart, that stars can touch yourself, sun make shine your eyes, and you learn that a field of sunflowers know how to enlighten your face, that the perfume of the spring wakes you up from winter, and sit down to read under a tree’s shadow relax and free your thoughts.
You learn that love is made of delicate feelings, small sparks in the stomach, of presences nearby although distant.
You learn that time expands and those five minutes are precious and long, over many hours..
That just close your eyes, kindle senses, read a poem, write on a book or watch a photo, to cancel time and distances and be with who you love.
You understand that listening a voice on the phone, to receive an unexpected message, are little happy moments and you learn to have in the drawer of the heart, dreams small but precious.
Also, you learn growing up, that to keep between arms a child is a little happiness, you learn that the greatest gifts are those that tell you of people who you love.