Journal

The Shape of a Smile and Freedom of True Joy

Perhaps I have been carrying my happiness like a responsibility rather than receiving it as a gift.

I woke this morning with a question pressing against my spirit – when was the last time I truly smiled? Not the polite curve of the lips that the world expects. Not the practiced expression that smooths over weariness like a hand brushing dust from a bookshelf. No, I mean the kind of smile that begins deep within, where the soul is weightless and the heart forgets to guard itself.

I have chosen happiness. I have decided that I will not wait for the world to align itself in flawless symmetry before I allow myself joy. Yet, somewhere between that choice and this morning’s reflection, I have misplaced something vital. I have moved through my days with determination, with resilience, with gratitude even, but not with the kind of ease that lifts the corners of my mouth without effort.

Perhaps I have been carrying my happiness like a responsibility rather than receiving it as a gift. Holding it carefully, tending to it like something fragile, instead of letting it dance through me unbound.

I think of the last time laughter took me by surprise. The way it bubbled up, unplanned, unforced, as if my soul had let out a breath it didn’t realize it was holding. That is where the real smile lives. In those stolen moments of delight that ask for nothing in return.

I do not believe I am lost. Only paused, only in need of a moment to remember. So today, I will seek out something that stirs the embers. A song that once moved me, a scent that reminds me of home, the feeling of sunlight warming my skin. And when my smile comes, I will not question it. I will not measure it or ask if it is real enough. I will simply let it be.

And maybe, just maybe, I will feel free.

Writer • Poet • Thinker ❖ Capturing the beauty of introspection, resilience, and timeless wisdom in words - where thought and emotion intertwine

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