And growing up you learn that happiness is not 'one of the great things.
It 's not the one that chases two decades, when, like gladiators fought the world to come out victorious ...
happiness is not 'that which is pursued Affan believing that love is all or nothing ... and not' the strong emotions that make the "pop" out and exploding with spectacular thunder ... happiness not 'to climb skyscrapers, challenges to win constantly test.
grew up learning that happiness and 'made ....... but precious little things and you learn that the smell of coffee' in the morning and 'a little ritual of happiness, which are enough notes in a song, the feelings of a book by colors that warm the heart, that's enough aromas of a kitchen, the poetry of the painters of happiness, just the nose of your cat or your dog to feel a little happiness.
And you learn that happiness and 'made up of emotions on tiptoe, on the quiet of small explosions that expand the heart, that you can touch the stars and the sun to shine my eyes, and you learn that a field of sunflowers illuminate the sa face, which wakes you up the scent of spring from winter, and sit down to read under the shade of a tree, relax and free thoughts.
And you learn that love and 'made up of sensations delicate, small sparks in the stomach, presence of nearby too distant, and learns that time expands, and that those 5 Precious minutes are long over many hours, and you learn that you just close your eyes, turn on the senses, sfornellare in the kitchen, read a poem, write a book or watch a photo to cancel the time and distances and be with loved ones . And you learn that
hear a voice on the phone, receive an unexpected, happy moments are small.
And you learn to have in the drawer and the heart, but precious little dreams.
And you learn that keeping a child in her arms and 'delicious happiness.
And you learn that the greatest gifts are those that talk about people you love ...
And you learn that there is 'happiness in the urgent need to write down your thoughts, that there is' something to love, happy melancholy.
And you learn that in spite of your defense, despite your will or your destiny, there is every gull flying 'in the heart of a small-large Jonathan Livingston.
And you learn how beautiful and majestic simplicity.
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