Well, no. But let me explain why it’s worth even asking.

My one and only tattoo is a formula written on the lower part of my left thumb: Ha = Ev-Ex short for ‘Happiness equals Events minus Expectations’. It captures a grain of some of the most sage wisdom I’ve ever come across, from mindfulness/happiness guru, author and former Google exec, Mo Gawdat.

His story and philosophy are captivating. They are both wonderfully captured in this podcast interview, which I highly recommend listening to.

Anyway, Gawdat’s logic is that happiness is a choice. It goes something like this:

The events in our life are neutral (neither positive or negative). Winning a lottery, snapping a tendon or losing a loved one – all are fundamentally neutral – they are neither necessarily good or bad.

Our expectations, however, determine what we feel about the event. Winning a lottery is an unexpected windfall, so we associate positive emotions with it. Losing a loved one is devastating because of shock, surprise and loss. Both of these examples are logical.

But our expectations are subjective, flexible and potentially irrational. If our expectations from winning a lottery are too high, it would be easy to understand becoming depressed or blowing it seeking unsatiable dopamine hits. Similarly, Mo Gawdat unexpectedly lost his son, and managing his grief led to mental health initiatives for communities all over the world. Is Gawdat happy his son is dead? Of course not. But he is also experiencing more than just misery from that event. He is finding happiness.

So here I am, six weeks after the most severe injury of my life, often wondering, why I am generally so upbeat so far? Remember, the injury itself was neutral, so it boils down to my expectations after the event.

I said at the beginning of this journey that when I fell, I started to catastrophize immediately. Would I ever ‘this’ or ‘that’ again. What was apparent was the significance of the injury. The significance of the event. Questioning everything, my vulnerability, my helplessness, my fear were real. Based on these initial expectations, I suppose I set the bar really low.

My decision to tackle this injury and my recovery head-on with determination, optimism and fortitude probably helped me clear that low bar pretty easily. In other words, the state of mind I put myself in, the belief I have carried, have been instrumental in maintaining a pretty solid outlook.

At the same time, the incredible care and attention I got right away far surpassed my expectations. I wrote extensively about that early on.

Another factor I contemplated was how this event pulled me (nay, body-checked me) off the hamster wheel. Life is busy. Life with a job, two kids and all the accoutrements is even more so. And I’m a striver. A goal-setter. My happy place is doing things and being busy. Not feeling good? Do something about it. More is more.

This injury put a literal stop to all of that. Fitness? Nope. Chores? Tasks? Neither. Going… Anywhere? Can’t. If it couldn’t be done from my bed, it wasn’t happening.

The fact that I was probably feeling a ton of relief from essentially wiping the board clean of all my goals and ambition didn’t occur to me until last week, but I think it has formed a big part of my contentment during this time.

So yeah – is it possible to say I’ve been relatively happy over the last six weeks? I think so. It hasn’t been perfect – I’ve had a number of down days (as documented) and I know I’ve been grumpy sometimes to the kids or my wife when things are piling up, my energy is low, I’m in pain, or some combination of them. But overall – depression, gloom, anxiety? Far from it.

The tattoo, and where I got it, were meant to give me a reminder anytime I needed it, to snap me out of negative thinking or discontentment. To remind me that happiness is a choice and can be found under any circumstances. That it may have happened subconsciously in this situation is deeply satisfying.