I walked out the front door of my Florida home and stepped into a sky-blue-bright day blazing with heat only to find a chicken turtle clinging to the edge of my paver-patterned driveway. As I approached, thinking how much it looked like a painted turtle our children once raised, it appeared more lethargic than frightened. It blinked and blinked its weary eyes rather than retreating into its moss-draped shell even when I sat down quite close to it. Having so recently lost my cat, Gracie, I felt my chest tighten with fear and grief. I certainly did not want to lose this creature. “It’s suffering,” I thought.

I moved away to give it a wide berth and simply observed. I realized it had either climbed up the steep bank of Spring Creek, which meanders behind the homes across the serene street from me, and crossed it in hopes of finding the lake behind me. Or it sought to find its way to the creek having left the lake behind. Which way should I move it, I wondered? Content to watch and wait, the chicken turtle would get to its feet and lumber toward my front stairs only to become confused. That was when I realized it wanted to get to the lake yet couldn’t find an opening in the six-plex of row houses that I call home.

Time and again, it poked, crawled, and then rested as it sought a path to freedom – and water. After about an hour of effort in the unrelenting sun, it stopped and dropped its head into the grass wearily, its long, slender neck heaving and its shell bone dry. Dehydration was setting it; it had been too long out of the water. Racing into the garage, I grabbed a big bucket, filled it from the hose, and gentle splashed water over its shell, head, and neck, fearing the worst. Then I filled Gracie’s old water bowl and set it in front of turtle whose life seemed to be ebbing. Lo and behold, it gently lifted its head and submerged it in the bowl for a few minutes and then backed away looking much revived.

That’s it! I thought. I leaned over and carefully picked the calm creature up with my hands gently holding either side of it 12-inch shell, the dripping moss on its back soft and smooth. I cornered my building firmly grasping the compliant creature, surprised both by how light it felt and how calm it remained. When we reached the lake some 50 yards away, I placed it in front of the reeds on the shore right below my lanai and sat down next to it. It remained near me for a full five minutes, blinking and nodding at me as if to say, “Thanks ever so much. I’m not afraid of you.” Then, with what felt like one last glance, it crawled through the reeds, slipped into the water, and disappeared below the surface, home and free at last.

It hit me then, contentment moving through my body like a warm current. This, I thought, is what happiness feels like.

For the sixth consecutive year, Finland is the happiest country in the world, though the Finns themselves describe what they feel more as contentment.

Here are reasons Finns say they are happy:

They spend a lot of time in nature. My time with that turtle caused contentment – happiness – to flow within me.

They practice SISU: This means strength of will or perseverance, especially in the cold, dark Finish winters, something we Minnesotans appreciate, and it applies generally to many situations.

They trust others, and they eschew conspiracy theories. This supports better mental health.

They are open about how they are really feeling. Giving a genuinely honest answer to "How are you?" is valued in Finland.

They don't humblebrag. They have a saying, "The one who has happiness should hide it." Translation, according to the reporting: "Press pause on that slightly ‘gloaty’ IG post." Living our happiness is better for our happiness and our health than humblebragging about it, especially on social media.

They aim for contentment. They explain this in English as, according to the stories about being on top of the happiness heap again, "Happiness is found not by endlessly searching but by living." Happiness doesn't always have to be a soaring sense of bliss. Instead, there's value in enjoying what you have, once the basic needs of life are met, and then fostering a feeling of contentment.

Happiness, contentment – these are subjective words so feel your way there. The Finns must be on to something.

Here's to your happiness and contentment – may you have it in abundance.

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Marcia Appel

In 2006, Marcia, a former journalist and corporate executive, wrote the plan that launched Green Lotus. In 2007, Green Lotus opened, and Marcia and business partner Merry Beth Hovey, who joined in 2009, planted the seeds of service that are the foundation of the Green Lotus philosophy. "As teachers and healers," Marcia says, "we meet students and clients where they are. We learn and grow from each other -- and have fun doing it."

Marcia's Musings