When I was four I wanted to be a ballerina.

I craved the attention and fame I thought would follow my career choice.

When I was seven I wanted to be a firefighter.

I wanted to be the brave heroine in all my bedtime stories.

At twelve I had my heart set on being a photographer.

I wanted to be able to capture the emotions of the people around me and share it with the world.

Now, when I grow up, I just want to be happy.

I used to want to live a luxurious life with gold things and silver trinkets. I wanted piles of diamonds waiting to be spent and a pool with a water slide that would rival the movie stars in Beverly Hills. A garage full of fancy cars, one for every day of the week and a different pair of shoes for every day of the year. I wanted things and I thought things would bring me satisfaction.

This was my idea of happiness.

As I grew older, my idea of happiness shifted. It took on many new forms and came with many different faces and shapes.

My happiness once embodied the idea of thingamabobs and whosits and whatsits. Now, I’ve learned to find joy in the little things. I used to allow inanimate objects to hold my joy; now, I find joy in the living.

The soft flickering of a fireflies’ glow brings me tranquility and fleeting pieces of old memories, long forgotten, of the girl who wanted to be a ballerina. The fireflies twinkling in the night sky are reminiscent of the stage lights I once imagined in my future—they dance and dip in the wind going wherever it takes them.

Those small plants in the sidewalk cracks make me smile. They crawl their way out from the depths of the earth, breaking whatever obstacle is in their way. Against all odds; they just are. And it’s beautiful.

I just want my life to embody happiness. I crave the feeling of warm sand and snow on the tip of my nose. The bright smiles and the soft fur of a puppy. I want my life to be lived as if warm chocolate chip cookies are constantly baking.

I want to live my life as if I am wrapped in a soft blanket, wrapped in the love and warmth of those around me never allowing my joy to belong to inanimate objects again.