I'm no spring chicken when it comes to speaking in front of people. I spoke at large conferences an presented to CMOs in my prior, corporate life. I can talk about intricate statistics, research and strategy. I can defend arguments. But this was a talk about happiness, that elusive emotion that's hard to talk about even with adults. Happiness, as a word, is right up there with "god". It's misunderstood, overused and under appreciated. And my teenage audience doesn't usually think it's particularly "dope" to open up about emotions like vulnerability, failure, hope, wisdom, and joy. 

I took this challenge because I may a point to have fun throwing myself in highly uncomfortable situations. There might be a name for this condition, and not many people may have it, but I do. 

So when I found myself in front of scary teenagers who weren't interested in me or what I had to say, I stood up, smiled, and said "My name is Ramona, and I'm here to talk to you about happiness. But before we do that, I'm sure you noticed my accent. Where do you think it's from?" And the ice started to break; I made fun of myself and of their wrong guesses, and moved on to talking about happiness. 

There is a question that has been both my thorn and my guru for many years. This question has burned at first through my brain and then through through my heart. Most of my thoughts at any given hour began revolving around this one question. And it’s a question as old as the world itself. “What am I here for?”

The question implies that there is something we’re here for, right? It implies that there is something we must seek, and that we’re capable of finding it. It implies that we’re here for a reason, that our individual lives matter. It also implies that each of us have our own particular reason we’re here for. We see and personally know a few people who seem like they found their unique calling, but that calling is not a good fit us.