I have discovered, at the age of 55, that most of my life has been spent expecting happiness to come to me from others. I may be running with the wrong people, but in any event, it has rarely come that way, and when it did, it soon departed. Now, I’m reaching the conclusion that I have to make myself happy…find the things I want to do which will make me happy. The problem, as least as I see it, is that after years of marriage, as well as parenting, I have been so focused on the needs of others that I’m not sure I could name the things which make me personally happy, or recognize contentment were it to drop into my lap. So at this point I’m pretty much of a blank slate…