Good wishes and contentment

Today someone wished me well. That is where the problem began.

It was over a phone. I know how phones are; they disconnect voices from the rest of the person. This disconnected voice was happy. The voice was even on a high pitch, bursting with excitement, straining to break news but holding itself for fear of jinxing this happiness. The voice wished me well. I wondered about this voice all day. Between news rewrites I wondered about contentment and good wishes. During lunch I thought about wishes, and how good wishes come easily during happy times. By six 'o' clock I had it figured out. The voice was content, at ease with itself, and so the good wishes seemed more real, less strained than normal. It is not this simplistic in every case, but it helps to know the subject, or the voice.

The voice was in a garden, or dipping its toes in cool water at a beach. That kind of happiness. Some write. Some fall in love. Some hit a ball about. No, not hit a ball about; it's too violent for this delicate contentment. It was a voice that wanted nothing in return. Of course I got thinking. What makes you so happy that you want nothing in return?

So I bought a few books. The questions answered themselves.