So, you and I are having coffee in a little café off the main street in town. The conversation meanders as it always does between friends. We talk about our kids and our jobs and our husbands. And somewhere in one of those lulls of companionable silence, I spill a secret that I have kept hidden for the longest time. I have been unhappy my whole life, I tell you. You stop, and I can feel your discomfort. I can see you don't know what to say. Don't worry, I shrug. I've seen this reaction before. It wasn't the worst thing in the world, I explain. It's not like I lived a life of complete misery. Nothing so dramatic. I have had plenty of happy moments. But fundamentally, beneath the surface, in the core where I live, I was... lost, unsure, insecure... in a word, unhappy. I see surprise on your face. No way, you say. I don't believe you. You seem so happy now. So together. And then I smile. Yes, I am happy. Now. But it took me fifty years to figure it out. And now, it's the funniest thing. For years, no matter how hard I tried I couldn't be happy. Now, it's just the opposite. Now, I can't seem to be unhappy, even when bad things happen in my life. You shake your head as if you are not sure you can believe me. But then, you think back and see that I do seem to always be in sync, to roll with the challenges that I encounter and stay balanced. What happened, you finally ask. What changed? Everything, I say. It turns out I have been learning about happiness my whole life. I sit back and sip my coffee. Happiness, I tell you, was an elusive little sucker....