Why Me?

Who am I to write this book?

What kind of authority can I say I have in order for you to believe what I am about to tell you?

You probably opened this book, because you were curious about how you could be happy or happier than you are now.

Don't just believe what I say. Instead, perform some of the recommended exercises in this book. If, just if, you become happier, then apply these principles on a daily basis. Experience the results for yourself.

Early in childhood, I realized that all human beings are looking for happiness, each in their own way. A great number of us believe that when we acquire a beautiful or bigger home, we will be happy. That when we get the car of our dreams, we'll be happy. That the day we find the perfect significant other, we will be happy. Or, when we finally have babies with them or have enough money then, surely then, we will be happy. So we are always postponing our expectation for happiness in the belief that things or relationships will make us happy. Unfortunately, that day never arrives. Meanwhile, we waste our lives in search of the always evasive happiness. It never quite comes within our reach.

My background and experience on being happy is as universal as anyone's. It began in my early youth. I was born into Catholicism and my parents (who were devout) used to take me to Mass every Sunday.

For some reason, I used to faint in the middle of Mass and my father would have to take me out. Doctors never found what caused my fainting spells. They speculated I may have had a heart condition (I just turned sixty eight. I don't think it was heart condition). Some doctors said it may have been the air quality in the church due the amount of people and poor ventilation. That a lack of oxygen was the cause of my dilemma. I don't remember most of the reasons, my parents didn't tell me all of them, but it was a large enough concern for everyone to have an opinion on the matter.

My guess is that as a little boy, I was impressed with the figures and sculptures inside the church, especially with those of Jesus bathed in blood and the expression of suffering beyond the understanding of a child. The image of open wounds in his chest, the hands and feet penetrated by those big, rusted, and dirty nails full of blood coming out of his body. That vivid impression was what made me faint as a child. It was that simple.

I could not stand the pain and suffering, not from Jesus, nor from any creature. It didn't matter if it ranged from insects being smashed to owners hitting and punishing pets for what they perceived was bad behavior. So, from the beginning of my life, I noticed there was pain and pleasure. Through my Catholic upbringing, I learned about Paradise. It was the place where God had put Adam and Eve to be eternally happy and joyful. So, from a young age, I questioned myself, Why are we not happy andjoyful? What happened to the Paradise we were born into? (There are different opinions on the meaning of the words happy and joy, see the definitions and make your own analysis and meaning of the words, in the website below).

http://www.diffen.com/difference/Happiness vs Joy

I was a teen when the citizen band (CB) radio became popular. I purchased one and as many of you might know, we had nicknames to identify ourselves on the air. Well, for some reason, my subconscious mind at the age of sixteen suddenly said to me, "Your CB radio handle is: Happy." It was as if something inside me was telling me that I either wanted, desired, was able to, had to be, or had already inside of me; THE ABILITY TO BE HAPPY!

In my early twenties, I made a trip I to the south of Mexico. Cancun was in the beginning stages of its development. I was with friends and my daughter was only two years old at the time. We were using CB radios to communicate between three cars and I again used my old CB handle, "Happy". The trip was great and I remember being at the center of happiness and joy for everyone on the trip. My daughter's name is Azulinda and in Spanish, gasoline, is spelled "gasolina". The ending sounds of my daughter's name Azulinda and gasolina are very similar. She wanted to use the radio and communicated with my friends. When they asked what her handle was, we came up with, "Gasolina". The whole group had a great time and we all laughed during the trip.

So what qualifies me to write about happiness? Well, from my childhood, I started practicing being happy for no apparent reason. I've read books, gone to seminars, studied NLP (Neuro- Linguistic Programming, a science of the subconscious mind), and have practiced what I've learned. Due to the practice of the following principles described in this book, I've been able to create happiness on a moment by moment basis and even during the most difficult periods of my life.

During my sixty eight years of life, I've practiced what I've learned from a wide variety of authors. I've put into practice what they say about happiness and living in the NOW. Eckhart Tolle teaches this principle in his book, "The Power of Now."

A personal example of engaging in the practice of being happy without paying attention to any of my circumstances was this: following two ankle surgeries (one in June 2011 and the other one in February 2013) I had been in continuous pain for over two and a half years. While I was writing this in August of 2013, I was waking up every morning with searing pain in my right ankle. On the pain scale of zero to ten, I had a level eight.

Now, did I let the pain ruin my days, my nights or any moment in which I can decide my happiness? Not at all. I practice what I teach; nothing can make me unhappy. Wouldn't you like to know why? Because I choose happiness over anything else. Happiness is a choice.

Below are photos of two of the surgeries I had in June 2011 and February 2013. Maybe they can do a better job in illustrating the pain I have had for over two years. Yet, even this pain has not taken away my choice for daily happiness. In this first photo, you can see seven metal rods, --three on the back of my foot and two in each ring around my leg-- a total of seven metal rods crossing my leg from side to side and through the bones. The surgeons had to drill through the bones to put the rods in.

This next photo shows you the results of the second surgery. Here, I only had three rods crossing through the bones. However, even though there were only three, they were bigger, wider, and more painful. The red arrows in the picture point at the three bigger rods.

* Update:...