We are surrounded by selfishness. We judge one another by what we wear, who our parents were, how good looking we are. We objectify and categorise the people around us. This isn’t human and it feels empty. It makes us chase the empty chalices of fashion and prestige. But sometimes we are shocked back into reality. A student came into my office a while back, looking a little down. She was a very pretty girl, well put together, very fashionable, and often a little haughty with her peers. She asked if she might sit and chat awhile. And she told me the story of her father’s illness, of the objectification she felt wherever she went, of the catcalls and constant hounding she experienced. I asked her what she wanted, what made her happy. At first she was bemused, and thought for a minute. Then she tossed her hair back and told me of a childhood passion for the piano, which led to a wide-eyed recounting of how much she loved Sunday brunches, with her aunt, after Sunday service. Then she broke into tears. I asked what was wrong, had I asked the wrong question. And she said “No, I was just struck by the fact that I haven’t told those stories since I was sixteen – and I love them.” Great big tears rolled down her cheeks and she sobbed, rocking her body back and forth in the black office chair, over my faux Persian rug, “I want that simplicity back. I can feel it.” I reassured her that now that she knew wanted she could have it. Simplicity is within our grasp. We are sovereign. All we need to do is choose reality. Choose happiness. The secret, though, is that in reality, happiness is simply love.