Returning to Happiness
When we’re born, our default is happiness. We don’t arrive worried about bills, careers, or whether we’re enough. We just are—and in that being, there’s joy. You can see it in any baby who laughs at something as simple as a shadow on the wall or the sound of their own giggle.
But as we grow, life starts layering things onto us. Expectations, comparisons, responsibilities. Little by little, that natural state of happiness gets covered up. And for a long time, I didn’t notice how much of my life was filled with things that actually didn’t bring me joy.
Photography has been a big part of helping me see that more clearly. When I look through the lens, I notice what I’m drawn to—the light breaking through clouds, the curve of a wave, the simple moments that feel alive. My camera doesn’t care about status or noise. It just reflects back what’s already there. In a way, it reminds me of that natural default of happiness I was born with.
It was only later, after living, after falling, after reflecting, that I began to ask myself a simple question. What really makes me happy? And maybe even more important, what makes me unhappy?
The answers weren’t complicated. There were certain patterns, people, and choices that consistently left me drained, stressed, or empty. And the more I noticed those things, the more I began to let them go. Slowly, I started clearing space.
At first, it wasn’t easy. Some of those things had been part of my life for so long that I thought they were just “normal.” But with each one I let go of, I noticed how much lighter I felt. And just like in photography, when you remove distractions from the frame, the picture becomes clearer. Happiness doesn’t always come from adding more. More often, it comes from subtracting.
I think a lot of this has to do with living long enough to reflect. There comes a point where you stop chasing every shiny thing and instead start paying attention to how you feel in different moments. The times where I feel most alive are usually the simplest ones—being in the ocean, camera in hand, sitting quietly with the light changing around me, or sharing time with people I love.
And just like a good photograph, happiness is about noticing. About presence. About paying attention to what feels true.
When I clear space for that, I find myself returning—closer and closer—to the default I was born with. Happiness.
