“Happiness is not a state to arrive at, but a manner of traveling.” — Margaret Lee Runbeck
I’ve been fascinated lately with a documentary where people with cameras travel around the globe and ask strangers a simple question: Are you happy? The answers are as varied as the people they ask—young, old, and everyone in between. A tattooed man riding a skateboard in Central Park. An elderly woman feeding birds on a park bench in Brussels. A young barista working a morning shift in France.
Are you happy?
So simple, yet so complicated.
“Overall, I’m happy, but I’m grieving my grandmother right now,” one woman said, her voice trembling. Another beamed, “Of course I’m happy! It’s a beautiful day. I woke up. I have breath in my lungs. What else do I need?” For some, their faith comes pouring out: “I’m really happy because Jesus changed my life!” Others may not outwardly radiate joy, but you can tell they’ve arrived at a place of contentment—accepting, forgiving, and at peace with how their lives have unfolded.
And then there are the heartbreaking answers: a man who wished he could live his life over again, his face weighted with regret. A young student who constantly worries about money and her future. She looked into the camera and said quietly, “No, I’m not happy.”
Last summer, I asked my wife out to dinner because I wanted to look her in the eyes and say three difficult words: I’m not happy. It wasn’t our marriage. It wasn’t our family. It certainly wasn’t our life together. I just felt stuck in the mud. Not growing and not challenged. This feeling also came with guilt. You have friends, your health, a comfortable home, a great job, an SUV with a backup camera. What are you complaining about?
All true. And yet, I was struggling. I asked her to help me make some changes, and because she’s Polly, she immediately said she was in.
Six months later, I’m surprised by many things. This journey to re-center myself and make better decisions about life, work, and health has been incredibly lonely at times. I’ve looked long and hard at the man in the mirror. I’ve woken up in the middle of the night in tears. I’ve held my granddaughter and truly felt God’s love. I’ve sat in my backyard listening to the gentle sound of leaves falling on a windy afternoon. And I’ve breathed deeply.
Today, I’m challenging myself to do things that scare me, do more meaningful work, draw closer to God, and pay attention to the parts of my life I had ignored for far too long.
So let me ask you: Are you happy? Do you need a reset? I’m here to talk. Reach out. Start by telling the truth to yourself. Pay attention to what truly energizes you. A sweet friend asked me the other day, “When you wake up in the morning, what really gets you going? What do you look forward to? What does Curt want to do?”
I didn’t even have to think about it. I answered her right away. Six months ago I would have replied, “I don’t know.”
We’re not after perfection. We’re learning to choose a life that matters—and God has placed you here, right now, for a purpose only you can fulfill.
