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Happy and Sad

by Raymund Tamayo We call life as "happy" or "sad" like it belonged to a single genre. But perhaps life is neither. Maybe it is a library of moments, and we mistake one chapter for the whole book. No novel is written of only happy chapters. If it were, the joy would eventually become ordinary. Likewise, a book of nothing but tragedy would become unbearable. What gives each chapter its meaning is the chapter before it and the chapter after it. Perhaps the same is true in life. Laughing with my son on a quiet weekend morning does not erase the nights I spent worrying about bills. Neither do those worries diminish the beauty of that morning. Both belong to the same story, which I call "my life." We often let our present emotion be the title of our entire life. When we are suffering, we say, "My life is miserable." When everything is going well, we say, "Life is beautiful." Yet both statements are written from only one page of a book that i...

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