March 16: Always Something, Bluebird of Happiness, According to Plan

I just spoke to my wife a few minutes ago.  She was late to her new job for the second day in a row this morning.  Nobody at the bank said anything to her, but this was her first week in the position.  She's been late twice already.  On both days, my daughter made her late.  Yesterday, my daughter forgot her shoes.  My wife had to bring her the shoes.  This morning, my daughter missed her bus.  My wife had to drive her to school.  I was really hoping that this week was just going to go so smoothly for my wife.  It hasn't.

To top it all off, my wife got a call from another bank she submitted her resume to.  She was supposed to call them back this morning.  She tried and never got through to the manager.  I really hate it when things don't go according to plan.  I should amend that statement:  I hate it when things don't go according to my plan.  Things didn't go according to my plan this week.

In a lot of ancient and not-so-ancient cultures, the bluebird has been used to represent happiness.  That doesn't surprise me.  I have rarely seen a bluebird in the wild.  In fact, I've only seen one wild bluebird in my life.  It was beautiful and fierce at the same time.  Because of its color, because of its rarity, I imagine bluebirds would cause quite a stir when they appeared in the olden days.  In one European tale, a boy and a girl are sent by a fairy on a quest to find the bluebird of happiness.  They travel through many lands, but return empty-handed.  When they get home, they find that the bluebird has been in a cage in their home the whole time.  The moral of the story is that the quest for happiness is never-ending, and the only place to really find happiness is within your own self.  (Thanks to Wikipedia for that little synopsis.)

It's true.  Happiness is really difficult to find and hold on to.  When I depend on other people/things for my happiness (my wife's job, my wife, my daughter, poetry editors, my job), I don't always end up happy.  However, when I look inward for happiness (in poetry, in writing, in reading, in blogging), I generally am never disappointed, unless I look to other people to tell me how good my poetry/writing/blogging is.  (I still haven't been named a Blog of Note.)

I guess the bluebird is inside all of us.  Even Dorothy learns that in The Wizard of Oz.  She goes where happy little bluebirds fly, beyond the rainbow.  She meets some witches, a lot of weird little people, flying monkeys, and a few really good friends.  In the end, she has to return to Kansas to find her bliss.  The bluebird has been at her house all along.

I guess I need to stop looking for that goddamned bluebird.

It's already at Saint Marty's home, probably in the bathroom, on the toilet, reading a magazine.

This is about right for my bluebird!