Living the Dream (For Real)

Have you ever asked someone, “How are you?” and they respond with, “Just living the dream”. The irony, of course, is that they usually aren’t. That snarky reply is often just a cover for sadness, frustration, or disappointment with some part of their life. It often turns into a shared conversation of “woe is me” because misery loves company. Somehow, it feels easier when others are unhappy too.

But here’s the question: what happens if you really are living your dream, no sarcasm, no irony?

That’s the space I find myself in right now.

On paper, my life doesn’t look particularly dreamy. I don’t have a permanent home, almost everything I own fits into a few Rubbermaid containers and canvas bags, I don’t have a traditional job, and my private wellness practice has come to a full stop. I’ve been chronically ill with tick-borne infections for five years, and while I’ve made huge improvements recently, I’m still not where I want to be physically.

By most standards, I should be freaking out. But I’m not.

If you asked me today, I’d tell you: I’m living my best life. I’m living the dream, for real. In fact, I’m referring to this time in my life as my Zen phase. I am the happiest I’ve been in my entire adult life.

Want to know my secret? I stopped fighting the riptide. I leaned into fear. And I learned how to relax with the flow.

If you’ve spent time at the ocean, you know how dangerous riptides can be. They pull you out to sea and exhaust you as you fight against them. The harder you struggle, the more you risk drowning. The best chance you have is to stop resisting and simply float with the current until you’re carried to calmer water, where you can swim to shore or call for help.

Life’s riptides are the “musts” and “cant’s” we accept without question:

• I must go to college, get a good job, make money, and build a picture perfect life.

• I must stay in the job I dislike because of the bills or the insurance.

• I must stay in an unhappy relationship because it’s easier or “better for the kids.”

• I must maintain the façade of happiness on social media.

• I can’t be my authentic self because people will judge me.

• I can’t follow my dream because it’s crazy, reckless, or risky.

But here’s the thing: most of the happiest people I’ve met are living lives that society might call “unconventional.”  They took risks and made sacrifices. They faced the fear of the “what if’s” and decided the possibility of success and happiness were greater than the certainty of regret. They accepted that it was scary and did it anyway. They leaned into the fear of the riptide and relaxed into the flow. They stopped fighting against the current and just learned to float. And by floating they found themselves in calm waters, able to swim to shore.

Fighting the metaphorical riptide is exhausting. It leaves us bitter, resentful, and unfulfilled. To numb the ache, we consume: food, alcohol, drugs, porn, or just endless stuff. We get stuck in the game of “I’ll be happy when I…”

…find a partner.

…get the flashy car

…buy the house.

…get the promotion.

…earn a million dollars.

…buy a bigger house

…hit my goal weight.

…gain 1,000 followers.

But here’s the trap: once you reach the next milestone, happiness slips away. The cycle begins again.

You will never find happiness outside of yourself. True happiness comes from recognizing the beauty in the small, daily moments.

For me it’s things like enjoying the warm, morning sun as I sip my coffee, the sound of birds singing or the wind rustling through leaves. It’s the smell of freshly cut grass, the first bite of a fall apple, tart, juicy and crisp or the silky feel of a cat’s fur as it purrs in my lap.  I find joy when I make time for my wellness – a brisk walk, yoga, cooking a healthy meal, or relaxing in a hot bath with a good book. Great pleasure can be found in a phone visit with a loved one, shared laughter, making someone smile, a simple hug. I’m grateful for this adventure of life and having a loving, supportive partner to share it with.  These modest, quiet moments add up and make me rich. Not in a conventional sense. Despite having very little “stuff” and “just enough” actual money, I am rich with gratitude and love for all the blessings I do have.

I stopped doing what others thought I should do. I stopped being who others thought I should be. I stopped trying to fill emptiness with things. I stopped chasing happiness.

Instead, I began to live authentically. I peeled away the layers of expectation to “unbecome” who I wasn’t, so I could finally step into who I am. I chose a simple life filled with moments, not possessions. I learned to float with the riptide instead of fighting it.

And then something magical happened: happiness found me.