When my mother was 80 years old, just one year before her death, I asked her, “Are you happy Mom?” She said, “Well, I am not UN-happy ” That wasn’t the first time I asked her that question, and she gave me the same answer every time. Over the years I have pondered the meaning of her answer. Was she just trying to avoid the question, not wanting to admit that she wasn’t happy? I seem to have been born with a “happiness habit” gene. Most of the time, I’m pretty dang happy. But Mom? She was plagued with depression, alcoholism, and fatigue. She didn’t seem to be blessed with happiness. But, like she said, she wasn’t UN-happy. I have finally come to the realization that what Mom had was peace. She didn’t seem to be bothered by the “am I happy?” question. She was at peace with her life and contented. So I think there’s a difference between peace and happiness. Perhaps it is somewhat pointless to pursue happiness. Our time might be better spent pursuing peace. Instead of chasing little bits of happiness, let’s go for little bits of peace. There’s something about peace that seems to last longer than happiness. Perhaps happiness is based on what we DO and peace is based on who we ARE. I’m not sure about this – I’m still pondering. For me right now, I choose happiness and peace. And love. If I am not totally happy all the time, I can still be at peace with what is. And that feels good.