There isn't a correct way to interpret our world. As human beings, we have to interpret everything that happens to us; whether physically or mentally, we must form our opinion on it. Interpreting is how we view whether we enjoy something or not. Up till the end of my sophomore year, I’d never thought about interpreting life to find enjoyment; it has always come naturally to me. Once my summer of my sophomore year began, I began to interpret.

To begin, at the end of my sophomore year and that summer, a lot of change went on in my life. I wanted to change myself for the better; I had many goals and many wishes. In particular, I wanted to do more instead of doomscrolling on my phone; I loved the dopamine hits, but it needed to stop.

One day at the end of school, I was on YouTube and stumbled upon a guy recommending a book called Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience, by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi. He recommended this book because it helped with staying focused, which was exactly what I lacked when I painted, and so I bought the book.

When I opened the book, it wasn’t what I expected. This book was an interpretation of how to interpret. Csikszentmihalyi writes how to control your conscience by achieving bliss in the hardest tasks you do. He goes on to reference that war prisoners could find happiness despite brutal conditions. For example, these prisoners experienced starvation, disease, and torture but refocused their minds and consciences to escape their external conditions and find happiness. For me, reading this changed the way I viewed my everyday life; it changed my perception of everything I did. Being happy despite starving? Despite being held captive? How can somebody possibly do that?!

After reading most of Csikszentmihalyi’s book, I went about my life with his new ideas in mind, whether I was working, reading, drawing, or even just thinking, I wanted to achieve flow. “Set myself a goal, focus, and be happy,” I told myself. Being happy and in control was all I wanted. And I felt good about myself but confused; I still wanted more.

I remember during the summer being on a school trip to Europe. It was beautiful; the landscape views were nothing like I’d ever seen before. The blue capri shores and intricate architecture of Florence and Paris brought me joy. At the same time, I wanted more. There were beautiful times and hard times. The long, brutal and notoriously hot walks across the cities exhausted me. At the same time though, I got to try the most amazing foods, which satisfied my belly and soul. And there were great laughs with my friends I’d cherish forever and ever. Though in my head, I wanted more. I thought about Csikszentmihalyi and the soldiers being happy despite their conditions. Shouldn’t I be happier? Shouldn’t I always be happy?

Coming back to now, I think about that summer often and vividly. Dopamine is a drug we all get hooked on. Dopamine comes as fast as it goes. There isn’t a way to always be joyous, I have to accept that. In a way, there’s beauty in that itself. As humans we all make errors and make mistakes. As humans we keep on going despite everything that pushes us back. Sadness and happiness, so different, yet so alike. I can’t be awake without sleeping, just like I can’t be happy without being sad. I do believe I can improve my happiness and overall positivity, but I can’t do that unless I accept my feelings; I must keep going and simply just be. Maybe that’s the bliss and beauty of it all.

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