Which is, to be fully analytical here, absolutely bananas.
It gets even better. The synthetic happiness we create actually leads to sustained happiness.
Do you see what this means?!
Our brains are happiness factories! Production is in full force!
It just so happens that my brain, in particular, while it is simultaneously failing at all sorts of simple things, is actually prodigy-level skilled at the psychological manufacturing of bliss.
This is interesting information. It makes me feel good, obviously, but it also fills me with doubt. What if I'm completely wrong? What if things are objectively crummy and I'm blinded by this neurosuperpower?
I need to know! Because! See.
We've made a lot of big decisions lately that would have any normal humans second-guessing every step. We're moving our lives to a new city, and this has us reading way too much into each little thing that happens. Two English teachers who get really excited about symbolism tend to do that, I guess.
Every event, every interaction, every circumstance, is being considered a sign from the universe. We're constantly looking for some sort of cosmic feedback that we're making good decisions, that our move is the right one, that our happiness is more than imagined.
And so. We're in a bit of disbelief, I guess, that the signs have been overwhelmingly positive. A little bit of: Wait, really? Can it be? The swirl of chaos that is apartment hunting, packing, moving, and starting a new job in a new place is so surprisingly pleasant, like a violent tornado of rainbows and unicorns. It's challenging, sure, but it's simultaneously such a relief. A big whew, every eight minutes or so. It's such a welcome chaos.
I can't even really explain about how I just stopdropleft New York City.
Much less how I did that and am hardly looking back. If you can imagine, I didn't expect that to be the case at all. I expected to feel everything a lot harder than this.
We're going to live near here.
It's all just come together, I guess. It feels natural. Like we're taking steps in the direction we want to go. Like we're doing it on purpose.
It feels right.
And maybe my brain is imagining that. Maybe the signs are all contrived.
But even then. It's just as real.