This evening I sat down to write about a time in my life when I was resoundingly happy, in response to a challenge posed by the Daily Post, and was surprised at the flashing cursor as my fingers hesitated at the keyboard.

I am currently reading Gretchen Rubin’s book “The Happiness Project. ” Although her project has many similarities with my own, there is one major difference. While her project was entirely focused on being happier, mine has been more obsessively focused on being successful. As part of my project, I have been using a variety of self-improvement techniques, most recently cold showers, in order to attract more success into my life, but I recently came to the realization that, unfortunately, success doesn’t equal happiness.

In a lot of ways my “positivity project” has been successful in that in the span of a year and a half I have transitioned from a job as a hostess, making minimum wage at a family restaurant, to a job as an assistant editor at a very successful online yoga website (myyogaonline.com). Although my quality of life is certainly better, and I definitely feel more abundant, satisfied, and respected – I don’t really feel happy. I’m easily aggravated, and quick to angry outbursts. I’m tired – even as I write, I can feel the pressure of sleep deprivation behind my eyes. I do not spend enough time in play, and if my laughter was responsible for powering Monstropolis (Monsters Inc.), I’m afraid that the city has been suffering from an unnaturally long power outage. I’m not saying that I NEVER laugh. I’m just saying that it has been a long time since I’ve been overcome by the full-body, tears streaming down your face, can’t stop no matter how hard you try kind of laughter that I’ve come to realize is sort of an important part of happiness.

For this weeks challenge, I thought I’d try and recall the last time that I remembered laughing in the way described above. I’m embarrassed to admit that it took me a few moments to come up with a memory.

Finally it came to me… okay, I actually wrote this introductory sentence prematurely – I was being optimistic. I honestly cannot believe that I’m unable to scrounge up a single memory of laughter. I’m a little flabbergasted (an appropriately funny word for an incredibly unfunny realization).

I can recount TONS of memories that should have contained moments of laughter, but after some reflection it seems to me that I took every single one of these occurrences way too seriously.

I remember trying to flip a giant log of wood at my residence’s caber toss; I remember waking up at 5am with Greg my very first morning in Vancouver (jet lag) and walking around the sleeping city as we experienced our very first sunrise in our new home; and I remember spending 4 hours rock-climbing with my brother and sister, after having been away from them for over a year and a half.  All of these occasions should have made me extraordinarily happy, and they did, but something was always missing. Even with every ingredient for happiness being present -family, novelty, accomplishment, excitement, fun – I still found myself incapable of letting go and truly being present in the moment. I still couldn’t find and appreciate the silly that is present in every day life. I had squashed my inner child so deep within my gut, that the spontaneous emotions that sometimes result in laughter – like curiosity, passion, and anticipation – had been replaced by happiness-squashing emotions – like impatience, fear, uncertainty, and self-consciousness.

I cringe as I wonder if, perhaps, I have temporarily forgotten how to laugh. Have I really become so absorbed in my work, that I have neglected such an important part of my identity?

As luck would have it, this Saturday I will be volunteering at the Seawheeze (lululemon) half-marathon event. This is as good an opportunity as any to create a new memory where I can let my inner child out to explore, and have a little bit of fun. Every once in a while, we all need a good shove outside of our comfort zones.

It appears that my shove involves a willingness to be a little bit foolish.

What does your shove involve?