The Measure

by Nikki Erlick

think we’re raised to believe that happiness is something we’ve been promised. That we all deserve to be happy. Which is why this really fucked-up thing that’s happening to some of us is so hard to accept. Because we’re supposed to be happy. But then this box arrived at our doorstep, saying that we don’t get the same happy ending as the people we pass on the sidewalk, at the movies, at the grocery store. They get to keep on living, and we don’t, and there’s just no reason why.

Maybe there are thousands of other ways we could measure our lives—the true quality of our lives—that lie within us, not within some box. And, by your own measure, you can still be happy. You can live well.

in Italy, I think we already knew. We already put the art first, the food first, the passion first,” she explained, a sweep of her arm encompassing the entire shop. “And we already put the family first. We did not need the strings to tell us what is most important.”