Intelligence and happiness

I have a vivid childhood memory. My mother is reading something she received from my school. She starts crying. I don't understand. Years pass before I ask her about this. She tells me this: the school had sent her the results of my I.Q. test. She burst into tears because I had a high I.Q. -- and therefore would never be happy. In her view, the more intelligent you were, the less chance you had at happiness.

My father was always happiest at sea, she'd told me many times over the years. Happiest alone on the bridge under a brilliant night sky, alone on watch. He'd hinted as much to me himself.

My mother may not have had a high I.Q. but she certainly was no dummy.

In fact, I abandoned happiness years ago. I settled for being content.