A friend who has thought a ton about it summed up the controversy around happiness. 

"You are already happy. You just want to be happier."

That notion has percolated in my mind for the month since I first heard it.

-ier. Happier.

If I admit the premise that there is already joy within reach, it is kindling enough to start a flame. 

There are birds outside my window that twitter with the busyness of finding tufts of bedding for their babies, who are on the way if not already here. The robins visit the chicks in my pen, and share breakfast. 

Puppywood blossoms are magically emerging from what look like dead sticks on the trees in the yard. The trees are a gift from friends who know I love them. 

The sound of my daughter in law's crystal voice is playing a private concert for me on the computer. I can listen as many times as I like. 

Blue cheese and red peppers are in the fridge, with spotted bananas and sunny oranges in a handmade ceramic bowl on the table. My belly is full. 

I could strain my neck to look for what I do not have. Or I can snuggle into the sounds and smells and softness of what is right here.