1) I enjoyed the first day of summer holidays with my daughter.
2) I am feeling better today.
3) I'm thankful for our jaunt to the library to prowl through the stacks and bring home new books/treasures to discover.
4) I enjoyed reading one of my library books and made some popcorn to munch on while reading.
5) I am thankful for a quiet evening.
6) I enjoyed my relaxing yoga workout this evening.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
I'm Thankful
1) I'm thankful for a beautiful day, sun shining, blue skies.
2) I'm grateful for a comfortable bed to rest on while I'm in the throes of a nasty headache.
3) I'm thankful for people who care about how I'm feeling today.
4) I'm grateful for ice-packs to put on my throbbing temples.
5) I'm thankful that tomorrow is another day, one that I'm hoping will be pain free.
2) I'm grateful for a comfortable bed to rest on while I'm in the throes of a nasty headache.
3) I'm thankful for people who care about how I'm feeling today.
4) I'm grateful for ice-packs to put on my throbbing temples.
5) I'm thankful that tomorrow is another day, one that I'm hoping will be pain free.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Gratitude Week...or finding 5 things to be thankful for...
As a part of my happiness project each day for the next week I will post things 5 things I am grateful or thankful for that happened that day...
So - today's list -
1)I am grateful that even though I felt really unwell and yucky today, I still did 5 miles, my yoga, three loads of laundry and made dinner!
2) I am thankful that my husband bought the gift cards for the teachers as I was unable to get out of the house...thanks, my love!
3) My daughter got over her extreme (and we're talking crying, hysteria and weeping, wailing and moaning) nerves and was able to perform part of her tap dance in her class. Way to go sweet girl!
4) I am thankful for flushing toilets on each floor of the house..."nuff said."
5) I am so grateful for a wonderful, and long overdue conversation with a very dear friend!
So - today's list -
1)I am grateful that even though I felt really unwell and yucky today, I still did 5 miles, my yoga, three loads of laundry and made dinner!
2) I am thankful that my husband bought the gift cards for the teachers as I was unable to get out of the house...thanks, my love!
3) My daughter got over her extreme (and we're talking crying, hysteria and weeping, wailing and moaning) nerves and was able to perform part of her tap dance in her class. Way to go sweet girl!
4) I am thankful for flushing toilets on each floor of the house..."nuff said."
5) I am so grateful for a wonderful, and long overdue conversation with a very dear friend!
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Happiness Project...
I love the feeling of accomplishment, it makes me feel happy.
So, all my life I've known the importance of exercise...it's good for your body, good for your soul, good for your spirit.
It activates the endorphins in your brain. It's that feel good chemical that gets fired up when you crank up the work-out.
Why then, didn't I do it??? The optimism of youth? Laziness? Couldn't care less? Lack of discipline? Probably, at different times, all or any of the above...but now I've aged...oooh scary thought.
My dearest Dad died of heart disease. My brother had a heart attack at the age of 48. There is heart disease in aunts and uncles of mine. However, none of this had ever made a difference.
I would exercise every now and then, very sporadicly, go like crazy and then give up. But over the past few months I've been watching my friends. One of them works full-time outside of the home, she gets up at 5 a.m. to exercise before she goes to work! For some reason, after talking to her, something kicked in, I was suddenly motivated. Another friend, a stay at homer like myself has been consistently exercising for a couple of years, and this too, motivated me.
Gretchen Rubin, in her Manifesto of Happiness says that "the body matters." I think this is true. As women, we are particularly prone to self-criticism when it come to our physical bodies. Our culture as a whole is brutally cruel. We are constantly bombarded with female "perfection," and Hollywood gives us glaring examples of how that perfectionism is portrayed. We see fake boobs, faces lifted almost beyond recognition, bodies thin and often emaciated. Magazine covers boast beautiful faces, no wrinkles or lines, perfect skin, perfect hair. It's tough to be a woman.
And then, there are women like you and me. We are not perfect. We see our lines and our imperfections. We struggle with weight issues, or whether what we have is "big" enough or "small" enough. The funny thing is history tells us different stories, there was a time when thin was not "in." Even today, in some countries, generous, full figures are the "it" shapes.
So, I think that happiness comes when we, finally, accept the body we're in, when we come to fully appreciate our individual uniqueness. When the glow we have comes from the beauty that shines within through all our seeming imperfections.
In that acceptance, also comes the recognition that my body is a gift. In it I live and move and have my being. My body also houses my spirit, it is the eternal part of me; through it I love my family, work at the things I love, affect change in and around my world. In caring for my body, I care for myself, for my family, for my world.
I think perhaps, that this (along with watching my friends) is what pushed me to begin to exercise and to become consistent doing it. I want to be here, for my family, for my children, my friends. I want to be healthier, to feel fully alive. I want to rid myself of the blues that sometimes hang over me like a dark, threatening cloud. I want to have energy, verve and joy in everyday living. I think I can do this better when I am fit.
So, as of July 1, I will have been exercising for a full 6 months, at least 4-6 times a week! This is an enormous accomplishment. I feel much better, I enjoy (most days) getting up, putting on that work-out garb and doing my thing.
Revel in your body, rejoice in it, exercise it, move it; get up, walk, jump, hop, dance, skip. Be happy.
This is your life, lived in your body; live it to the fullest!
So, all my life I've known the importance of exercise...it's good for your body, good for your soul, good for your spirit.
It activates the endorphins in your brain. It's that feel good chemical that gets fired up when you crank up the work-out.
Why then, didn't I do it??? The optimism of youth? Laziness? Couldn't care less? Lack of discipline? Probably, at different times, all or any of the above...but now I've aged...oooh scary thought.
My dearest Dad died of heart disease. My brother had a heart attack at the age of 48. There is heart disease in aunts and uncles of mine. However, none of this had ever made a difference.
I would exercise every now and then, very sporadicly, go like crazy and then give up. But over the past few months I've been watching my friends. One of them works full-time outside of the home, she gets up at 5 a.m. to exercise before she goes to work! For some reason, after talking to her, something kicked in, I was suddenly motivated. Another friend, a stay at homer like myself has been consistently exercising for a couple of years, and this too, motivated me.
Gretchen Rubin, in her Manifesto of Happiness says that "the body matters." I think this is true. As women, we are particularly prone to self-criticism when it come to our physical bodies. Our culture as a whole is brutally cruel. We are constantly bombarded with female "perfection," and Hollywood gives us glaring examples of how that perfectionism is portrayed. We see fake boobs, faces lifted almost beyond recognition, bodies thin and often emaciated. Magazine covers boast beautiful faces, no wrinkles or lines, perfect skin, perfect hair. It's tough to be a woman.
And then, there are women like you and me. We are not perfect. We see our lines and our imperfections. We struggle with weight issues, or whether what we have is "big" enough or "small" enough. The funny thing is history tells us different stories, there was a time when thin was not "in." Even today, in some countries, generous, full figures are the "it" shapes.
So, I think that happiness comes when we, finally, accept the body we're in, when we come to fully appreciate our individual uniqueness. When the glow we have comes from the beauty that shines within through all our seeming imperfections.
In that acceptance, also comes the recognition that my body is a gift. In it I live and move and have my being. My body also houses my spirit, it is the eternal part of me; through it I love my family, work at the things I love, affect change in and around my world. In caring for my body, I care for myself, for my family, for my world.
I think perhaps, that this (along with watching my friends) is what pushed me to begin to exercise and to become consistent doing it. I want to be here, for my family, for my children, my friends. I want to be healthier, to feel fully alive. I want to rid myself of the blues that sometimes hang over me like a dark, threatening cloud. I want to have energy, verve and joy in everyday living. I think I can do this better when I am fit.
So, as of July 1, I will have been exercising for a full 6 months, at least 4-6 times a week! This is an enormous accomplishment. I feel much better, I enjoy (most days) getting up, putting on that work-out garb and doing my thing.
Revel in your body, rejoice in it, exercise it, move it; get up, walk, jump, hop, dance, skip. Be happy.
This is your life, lived in your body; live it to the fullest!
Monday, June 21, 2010
Fame
Yesterday, I took my iced coffee out onto the deck to sit with hubby.
In a hushed voice he told me that two doors down our neighbor who happens to be a drummer was being filmed/interviewed in his backyard.
Like a curious voyeur I peeked over our BBQ and peered through the curtain of our flowered hanging baskets. I called our daughter out and she too spied on our neighbor, watching the process with delight. She struck a pose in case somehow she would get in the picture and be on T.V. We laughed with her, smiling at her antics.
From time to time we would stand up and look over and report to one another about what was going on. We watched our famous neighbor kicking back in his chair, gesticulating, imitating drumming motions, then talking with his hands.
It's hard to decipher what fame has given him other than notoriety. His marriage has ended in divorce and his son is rather wild right now. But that could be any of us and often is.
Upon reflection I decided my life is good even with its attending heartaches. I have no need for fame. I've suffered the same blows as my neighbor, first marriage ending in divorce, a son on the wild side.
That's it I think - there are the common realities that we all experience regardless of who we are. I want to be satisfied with my life, even happy. If I constantly compare myself to "the Jones", I only end up with a nagging dissatisfaction or a raging greed to better my circumstances, so there is no contentment. And contentment, I think is a good thing, whoever, and wherever I am.
In a hushed voice he told me that two doors down our neighbor who happens to be a drummer was being filmed/interviewed in his backyard.
Like a curious voyeur I peeked over our BBQ and peered through the curtain of our flowered hanging baskets. I called our daughter out and she too spied on our neighbor, watching the process with delight. She struck a pose in case somehow she would get in the picture and be on T.V. We laughed with her, smiling at her antics.
From time to time we would stand up and look over and report to one another about what was going on. We watched our famous neighbor kicking back in his chair, gesticulating, imitating drumming motions, then talking with his hands.
It's hard to decipher what fame has given him other than notoriety. His marriage has ended in divorce and his son is rather wild right now. But that could be any of us and often is.
Upon reflection I decided my life is good even with its attending heartaches. I have no need for fame. I've suffered the same blows as my neighbor, first marriage ending in divorce, a son on the wild side.
That's it I think - there are the common realities that we all experience regardless of who we are. I want to be satisfied with my life, even happy. If I constantly compare myself to "the Jones", I only end up with a nagging dissatisfaction or a raging greed to better my circumstances, so there is no contentment. And contentment, I think is a good thing, whoever, and wherever I am.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
20/20 My Happiness Project
This past week I lost my voice (I contracted laryngitis) and it was a thought-provoking experience. Usually, when I am not speaking to someone, it is, I'm sad to say because I am angry, or ticked off. Or perhaps I've been hurt by someone so I retreat into a cave of silence, build walls of distance as thick as concrete and as seemingly impenetrable.
But this forced quiet brought me a curious sense of peace. It taught me the value of quietude.
I was happy, reflective.
I could not engage in any conflict that took place between my husband and daughter. I had to remain an observer, somewhat detached from the intense emotion of the moment, the energy pulsating around me did not draw me in.
Certainly, I missed the laughter, the joking, the day to day discourse normally shared with my family. I missed talking with my friends. I found I had to "save up," like money collecting in the bank, the things that I wanted to pass on or the events that had happened.
But the quiet gave me the time to let my thoughts come together with clarity, to sort through issues that had been been pressing in on me. Piling my thoughts like laundry, separating the dark, somber thoughts from the contrasting white ones, loading the gentle softer colors into different baskets, giving each thought a context, a place. This is the gift of quiet.
My sister-in-law once gave me a framed picture of a photograph that she had taken. It is of a treed path, sunshine casting lights on that path as it goes into the distance. It is tranquil, inviting, and filled with mystery. Perhaps, you hear the song-bird, or the trees rustling in the wind. You feel the cool of the covered path and the warmth caressing you as you walk through the rays of sunshine. This is happiness of quiet.
Then there is the quiet happiness of being. Together. Sitting together reading, engrossed in a good book, the spider web of words weaving tales of history, intrigue, tragedy, love, mystery or romance. Being outside on our deck side by side drinking a homemade iced coffee; soaking up the sights, sounds and smells of our neighborhood. Watching the creamy clouds skittering across the blues of the skies. Hearing the trees in wind, seeing them swaying gently to a music all of their own. Inhaling the sweet fragrance of our lilac trees. Listening to lawns being mowed, fresh smells the grass newly cut. Curling up in our family room, watching old movies or old TV series that we've collected, laughing or crying or being caught up in the stories being told. Eating popcorn, richly buttered, warm and lightly salted, these are moments of quiet happiness indeed.
The happiness of quiet is in the dark velvet blanket of the sky with glittering, twinkling stars. It is knowing in the quietness that there is surely Someone bigger than me, that the Heavens though sometimes also silent, have answers and that the questions that are constellations of doubt will one day be swept away by the look of absolute Love.
In quietness we learn to listen, really listen. We learn to hear what isn't being said.
I am enthralled by all I have to learn, to discover...it makes me, happy.
Shhh....listen with me to all that the quiet has to teach us about happiness.
But this forced quiet brought me a curious sense of peace. It taught me the value of quietude.
I was happy, reflective.
I could not engage in any conflict that took place between my husband and daughter. I had to remain an observer, somewhat detached from the intense emotion of the moment, the energy pulsating around me did not draw me in.
Certainly, I missed the laughter, the joking, the day to day discourse normally shared with my family. I missed talking with my friends. I found I had to "save up," like money collecting in the bank, the things that I wanted to pass on or the events that had happened.
But the quiet gave me the time to let my thoughts come together with clarity, to sort through issues that had been been pressing in on me. Piling my thoughts like laundry, separating the dark, somber thoughts from the contrasting white ones, loading the gentle softer colors into different baskets, giving each thought a context, a place. This is the gift of quiet.
My sister-in-law once gave me a framed picture of a photograph that she had taken. It is of a treed path, sunshine casting lights on that path as it goes into the distance. It is tranquil, inviting, and filled with mystery. Perhaps, you hear the song-bird, or the trees rustling in the wind. You feel the cool of the covered path and the warmth caressing you as you walk through the rays of sunshine. This is happiness of quiet.
Then there is the quiet happiness of being. Together. Sitting together reading, engrossed in a good book, the spider web of words weaving tales of history, intrigue, tragedy, love, mystery or romance. Being outside on our deck side by side drinking a homemade iced coffee; soaking up the sights, sounds and smells of our neighborhood. Watching the creamy clouds skittering across the blues of the skies. Hearing the trees in wind, seeing them swaying gently to a music all of their own. Inhaling the sweet fragrance of our lilac trees. Listening to lawns being mowed, fresh smells the grass newly cut. Curling up in our family room, watching old movies or old TV series that we've collected, laughing or crying or being caught up in the stories being told. Eating popcorn, richly buttered, warm and lightly salted, these are moments of quiet happiness indeed.
The happiness of quiet is in the dark velvet blanket of the sky with glittering, twinkling stars. It is knowing in the quietness that there is surely Someone bigger than me, that the Heavens though sometimes also silent, have answers and that the questions that are constellations of doubt will one day be swept away by the look of absolute Love.
In quietness we learn to listen, really listen. We learn to hear what isn't being said.
I am enthralled by all I have to learn, to discover...it makes me, happy.
Shhh....listen with me to all that the quiet has to teach us about happiness.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Sunday - My Happiness Project
I went downtown this past Monday, a trip to Yorkville with my girlfriend. This adventure made me, by the way, happy...
As we were meandering through the shops we saw all manner of fun "stuff" and in a paper store we found cocktail napkins with sayings that made us giggle and guffaw. I found one napkin set and exclaimed to my friend "Look at this, have you got paper?, a pen???? I have to write this down for my blog on happiness." The cocktail napkin quoted Ben Franklin as saying "Wine is proof God loves us and want us to be happy." Well, I hooted over that one!
Happiness that day was drunk with the wine of the sunshine, of the conversation, of the laughter, and even of the serious moments, of the deep connection with my very dear friend.
It was a good day, a day to be remembered, and treasured. A day of happiness to packed in my trunk of memories to be brought out and reveled over on a darker day.
As I sit here mulling this over, I am thinking that perhaps that is part of the secret of happiness. Perhaps, happiness is a beautiful necklace, stored in a box of some kind, that has been beaded one by one with beautiful jewels, exquisite jewels, placed ever so lovingly on the necklace of my life, to brought out and enjoyed.
The pearls of happiness strung on my necklace have come from irritating, seemingly unending circumstances that I had thought I could not bear, but upon retrospect have brought the happiness of knowing that I am perhaps a wiser and gentler person because of those very irritations.
The diamonds of happiness on my necklace are the perplexing, crushing loads that have brought me great and deep despair, but yet have yielded I hope, the sparkle of compassion and kindness to others.
The aquamarines on my necklace blue with the delight of happiness I feel when I swimming, splashing, and laughing with the ones I love. The feeling of rolling over onto my back and gazing into the magnificent azure of the sky dotted with fluffy clouds imitating anything your imagination can conjure up.
The green of emeralds. Solid, enduring, life-giving friendships. Each one unique, and precious; some come and gone, some grown stronger, forged through immense pain and great euphoria never to fade as a distant memory.
The incredible deep blue of sapphires. My tears, rivers, oceans of them...wept for myself, my children, my family, my friends, and the world. Didn't a great Book once say that those that sow in tears will reap in joy! Tears are jewels of both our sorrow and our happiness embedded into our very beings.
The murky quiet beauty of an opal. White with glints of pink and blue almost pearl-like but more colorful than that. The opal is the mystery in my life, the not knowing, the whys, and the hard, granite questions. The glints of color, the pinks and the blues and the zig-zag of gold weaving patterns through the opal - is the happiness of knowing that I don't really, really have to know the whys and wherefores after all, and that I can live with happiness in the midst of mysteries. I may not always like the mystery, but I can be happy nevertheless.
The ruby, blood red and brilliant.
Family. My heart and soul are poured into these so very dear to me. They bring me the most spectacular happiness and the most devastating grief. This is a jewel I would never be without, no matter what the attending sorrow. The joys, the connections, the bonds; these have stretched over time, distance and circumstance of every kind. Almost wordless are the feelings I have for my family. In my family I find love, deep and strong. In my family I find meaning, laughter, and pure joy. There are at times fierce anger and moments of conflict so quake-deep it seems beyond repair, yet repair it does. This jewel glitters on my necklace most brightly I think.
So I think I'll end here...hang this necklace on my neck, not tuck it away....remind myself of all the jewels of happiness that I have.
I am a rich woman.
What about you?
As we were meandering through the shops we saw all manner of fun "stuff" and in a paper store we found cocktail napkins with sayings that made us giggle and guffaw. I found one napkin set and exclaimed to my friend "Look at this, have you got paper?, a pen???? I have to write this down for my blog on happiness." The cocktail napkin quoted Ben Franklin as saying "Wine is proof God loves us and want us to be happy." Well, I hooted over that one!
Happiness that day was drunk with the wine of the sunshine, of the conversation, of the laughter, and even of the serious moments, of the deep connection with my very dear friend.
It was a good day, a day to be remembered, and treasured. A day of happiness to packed in my trunk of memories to be brought out and reveled over on a darker day.
As I sit here mulling this over, I am thinking that perhaps that is part of the secret of happiness. Perhaps, happiness is a beautiful necklace, stored in a box of some kind, that has been beaded one by one with beautiful jewels, exquisite jewels, placed ever so lovingly on the necklace of my life, to brought out and enjoyed.
The pearls of happiness strung on my necklace have come from irritating, seemingly unending circumstances that I had thought I could not bear, but upon retrospect have brought the happiness of knowing that I am perhaps a wiser and gentler person because of those very irritations.
The diamonds of happiness on my necklace are the perplexing, crushing loads that have brought me great and deep despair, but yet have yielded I hope, the sparkle of compassion and kindness to others.
The aquamarines on my necklace blue with the delight of happiness I feel when I swimming, splashing, and laughing with the ones I love. The feeling of rolling over onto my back and gazing into the magnificent azure of the sky dotted with fluffy clouds imitating anything your imagination can conjure up.
The green of emeralds. Solid, enduring, life-giving friendships. Each one unique, and precious; some come and gone, some grown stronger, forged through immense pain and great euphoria never to fade as a distant memory.
The incredible deep blue of sapphires. My tears, rivers, oceans of them...wept for myself, my children, my family, my friends, and the world. Didn't a great Book once say that those that sow in tears will reap in joy! Tears are jewels of both our sorrow and our happiness embedded into our very beings.
The murky quiet beauty of an opal. White with glints of pink and blue almost pearl-like but more colorful than that. The opal is the mystery in my life, the not knowing, the whys, and the hard, granite questions. The glints of color, the pinks and the blues and the zig-zag of gold weaving patterns through the opal - is the happiness of knowing that I don't really, really have to know the whys and wherefores after all, and that I can live with happiness in the midst of mysteries. I may not always like the mystery, but I can be happy nevertheless.
The ruby, blood red and brilliant.
Family. My heart and soul are poured into these so very dear to me. They bring me the most spectacular happiness and the most devastating grief. This is a jewel I would never be without, no matter what the attending sorrow. The joys, the connections, the bonds; these have stretched over time, distance and circumstance of every kind. Almost wordless are the feelings I have for my family. In my family I find love, deep and strong. In my family I find meaning, laughter, and pure joy. There are at times fierce anger and moments of conflict so quake-deep it seems beyond repair, yet repair it does. This jewel glitters on my necklace most brightly I think.
So I think I'll end here...hang this necklace on my neck, not tuck it away....remind myself of all the jewels of happiness that I have.
I am a rich woman.
What about you?
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Sunday Challenge for 20/20 - My Happiness Project
I am on a journey. A journey to happiness.
So, let the challenge begin!
Happiness can be mine...oh yes, it can...
But how to start???
Well, I did go out and purchase the book "The Happiness Project" by Gretchen Rubin as she is the one who got me thinking "happy" in the first place. And I have pondered and thought and pondered and thought some more.
To begin with, I will post a quote from Gretchen's "Happiness Toolbox" (found on her website), called the "Happiness Manifesto." These points will be things that I will be considering as I craft my days around the thoughts of happiness.
This week, I thought about my attitude, the way I see the world from day to day. I asked myself this question, "On what am I focusing my thoughts?" "Am I thinking happy thoughts, good thoughts, pleasant thoughts, uplifting thoughts...or is my FOCUS negative???"
I cannot and will not be in denial, pretend that everything is wonderful if it is not. I will not play that kind of game. However, it is in my power to shift my thoughts away from the things that bring me down. It is also in my power, to express those things (the sad, heart-rending, soul-bending things) so that I can be free to breathe in and to partake in the happiness that is there waiting for me to enjoy. Things of which I am often not even aware.
My beloved sister had sent me, years ago, some pages from a treasure, a little book called "Telling Secrets" by Frederich Buechner. He addresses this lack of awareness: "Consider...those dwarves in C.S. Lewis's The Last Battle. They are huddled togehter in what they think is a cramped, dark, stable where, like the dungeon of the Little Ease, there is hardly any room to move or breathe. The truth of it, you will remember, is that they are not in any such place at all. Instead they are in the midst of an endless green meadow where the sun is shining and the sky is blue. Aslan himself stands there offering them refreshments and freedom from their self-imprisonment, the great golden Lion who moves through Lewis's fairytale the way the fierce power of God moves through our world of Cowardly Lions - to be called "Dear heart" by whom is an everlasting blessing... But the dwarves see none of this. About all they can is is each other.
Now transform that scene. It is not Lewis's dwarves who are gathered together. It is people very much like you and me."
As Gretchen says, in her Manifesto - "you are not happy unless you think you are happy."
So this week, I gathered my wandering thoughts, as dogs nipping at the heels of horses running wild. I corralled those thoughts and turned them to happiness. I do not want to be one of those dwarves who cannot see the beauty right in front of them. And it made a difference, it really did... There were far more moments and far more hours where there was the light, delightful feeling of happiness. Because I thought I was happy I felt happy...
There are, still, of course, concerns and burdens. But in the midst of all that worries me, freaks me out, causes me to grieve deeply and completely, light is breaking through.
Let me share another quote by Buechner that has been so helpful...
"This...was a rule that I had no less devastatingly laid down for myself, and it was this: that I had no right to be happy unless the people I loved - especially my children - were happy too. I have come to believe that is not true. (Me here: this was a riveting insight and one that after years of having these pages sent to me I can finally begin to believe...) I believe instead that we all of us have not only the right to be happy no matter what but also a kind of scared commission to be happy - in the sense of being free to breathe and to move, in the sense of being able to bless our own lives, even the sad times of our own lives, because through all our times we can learn and grow, and through all our times, if we keep our ears open, God speaks to us his saving word....I have come to believe that to be happy inside ourselves - to be less and less as the years go by in the dungeon the the Little Ease and more and more in still chapel where beyond all understanding there is peace - is in the long run the the best we can do both for ourselves and for the people closet to us."
!!! Did you catch that last phrase!??!!
Being happy is a gift I give myself and I can give it to those I love.
So join me on this journey.
This journey of happiness.
So, let the challenge begin!
Happiness can be mine...oh yes, it can...
But how to start???
Well, I did go out and purchase the book "The Happiness Project" by Gretchen Rubin as she is the one who got me thinking "happy" in the first place. And I have pondered and thought and pondered and thought some more.
To begin with, I will post a quote from Gretchen's "Happiness Toolbox" (found on her website), called the "Happiness Manifesto." These points will be things that I will be considering as I craft my days around the thoughts of happiness.
"A Happiness Manifesto
- To be happy, you need to consider feeling good, feeling bad, and feeling right, in an atmosphere of growth.
- One of the best ways to make yourself happy is to make other people happy; One of the best ways to make other people happy is to be happy yourself.
- The days are long, but the years are short.
- You're not happy unless you think you're happy.
- Your body matters.
- Happiness is other people.
- Think about yourself so you can forget yourself.
- "It is easy to be heavy: hard to be light."—G. K. Chesterton
- What's fun for other people may not be fun for you, and vice versa.
- Best is good, better is best.
- Outer order contributes to inner calm.
- Happiness comes not from having more, not from having less, but from wanting what you have.
- You can choose what you do, but you can't choose what you like to do.
- "There is no duty we so much underrate as the duty of being happy." —Robert Louis Stevenson
- You manage what you measure."
This week, I thought about my attitude, the way I see the world from day to day. I asked myself this question, "On what am I focusing my thoughts?" "Am I thinking happy thoughts, good thoughts, pleasant thoughts, uplifting thoughts...or is my FOCUS negative???"
I cannot and will not be in denial, pretend that everything is wonderful if it is not. I will not play that kind of game. However, it is in my power to shift my thoughts away from the things that bring me down. It is also in my power, to express those things (the sad, heart-rending, soul-bending things) so that I can be free to breathe in and to partake in the happiness that is there waiting for me to enjoy. Things of which I am often not even aware.
My beloved sister had sent me, years ago, some pages from a treasure, a little book called "Telling Secrets" by Frederich Buechner. He addresses this lack of awareness: "Consider...those dwarves in C.S. Lewis's The Last Battle. They are huddled togehter in what they think is a cramped, dark, stable where, like the dungeon of the Little Ease, there is hardly any room to move or breathe. The truth of it, you will remember, is that they are not in any such place at all. Instead they are in the midst of an endless green meadow where the sun is shining and the sky is blue. Aslan himself stands there offering them refreshments and freedom from their self-imprisonment, the great golden Lion who moves through Lewis's fairytale the way the fierce power of God moves through our world of Cowardly Lions - to be called "Dear heart" by whom is an everlasting blessing... But the dwarves see none of this. About all they can is is each other.
Now transform that scene. It is not Lewis's dwarves who are gathered together. It is people very much like you and me."
As Gretchen says, in her Manifesto - "you are not happy unless you think you are happy."
So this week, I gathered my wandering thoughts, as dogs nipping at the heels of horses running wild. I corralled those thoughts and turned them to happiness. I do not want to be one of those dwarves who cannot see the beauty right in front of them. And it made a difference, it really did... There were far more moments and far more hours where there was the light, delightful feeling of happiness. Because I thought I was happy I felt happy...
There are, still, of course, concerns and burdens. But in the midst of all that worries me, freaks me out, causes me to grieve deeply and completely, light is breaking through.
Let me share another quote by Buechner that has been so helpful...
"This...was a rule that I had no less devastatingly laid down for myself, and it was this: that I had no right to be happy unless the people I loved - especially my children - were happy too. I have come to believe that is not true. (Me here: this was a riveting insight and one that after years of having these pages sent to me I can finally begin to believe...) I believe instead that we all of us have not only the right to be happy no matter what but also a kind of scared commission to be happy - in the sense of being free to breathe and to move, in the sense of being able to bless our own lives, even the sad times of our own lives, because through all our times we can learn and grow, and through all our times, if we keep our ears open, God speaks to us his saving word....I have come to believe that to be happy inside ourselves - to be less and less as the years go by in the dungeon the the Little Ease and more and more in still chapel where beyond all understanding there is peace - is in the long run the the best we can do both for ourselves and for the people closet to us."
!!! Did you catch that last phrase!??!!
Being happy is a gift I give myself and I can give it to those I love.
So join me on this journey.
This journey of happiness.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Life is like a Bowl of Mangoes
Mangoes are juicy, sweet, rich and firm. You bite into them and immediately you are transported.
There is pleasure, delight, you can feel the warmth of the sun.
If you cut into one too soon though, it is sour, bitter; you want to spit it right out and never taste it again.
Life is like a bowl of mangoes, sometimes sweet and rich, sometimes bitter and sour.
But when it's good, it's good.
Just like life, good or bitter.
Just like mangoes.
There is pleasure, delight, you can feel the warmth of the sun.
If you cut into one too soon though, it is sour, bitter; you want to spit it right out and never taste it again.
Life is like a bowl of mangoes, sometimes sweet and rich, sometimes bitter and sour.
But when it's good, it's good.
Just like life, good or bitter.
Just like mangoes.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Sunday Challenge for 20/20
My niece, blogger, Luna Pie decided to start her own project...20 weeks, loose 20 pounds...
So, she issued a invitation for fellow bloggers, friends, relatives etc. to join in some kind of challenge ourselves and she made several suggestions.
At first I though I would do 20 book recommendations. But on deeper reflection, I thought that for me, it would be the "easy" way out or in to the project... Reading is something I love to do and I've probably read thousands of books in my life time. So finding 20 more or even reporting on 20 that I loved while interesting didn't really offer me a significant challenge.
When I was out west visiting my sister in March she took me to her Book Club. They were discussing a book, "The Happiness Project" by Gretchen Rubin. In it she explores happiness, how to get it, how to keep it and so on. Having not read the book but intrigued by the subject I listened reflectively to the conversation swirling around me. I came to a rather shocking conclusion. At least it was shocking to me.
Happiness is not even something I have considered much in my life; not even as an option.
I am very familiar with the concepts of suffering and of joy. I grew up learning about and talking about suffering. I grew up learning about the concept of joy; not just everyday joy, but biblical joy.
I turned to my sister and said, "we weren't taught to be happy were we, or even that being happy is O.K.???" She agreed.
Now, don't get me wrong, my parents were, in my opinion, wonderful. Not perfect by any stretch of the imagination; but loving, thoughtful, genuinely caring people. And I do think that they liked us to be "happy." But the object of our lives, so I grew up believing both in church and at home was that holiness was more important than happiness. Holiness was being "like Jesus;" which is a great idea; but I don't think that a serious, unhappy Jesus is the Jesus that is the Jesus of the Bible.
Certainly, He suffered, immensely, greatly, incomparably. But I also think that He laughed, danced and enjoyed life. He made wine at a wedding for goodness sakes. And He had not just joy, but ordinary, everyday happiness.
I have certainly suffered in my life; physically, emotionally, mentally; all of it. I have had flashes of joy, laughter and delight.
But I wouldn't say I have been particularly happy, nor have I ever made it point to try to be happy.
Now I know that there are no guarantees in life. Suffering, can and does come, to all of us.
I have seen my dear friend's daughter contract leukemia at the age of 10 months and die at the age of three. My own sweet wee niece died when she was five years old, oh, the agony of the that. My beloved son, who was such a longed for, long awaited child and who is so very dearly loved, has veered of the straight path into a life lived largely to his own destruction. I've been divorced. Our darling daughter has numerous learning disabilities. Another so very much loved niece in her late twenties, is, courageously, bravely, fighting cancer. Sometimes, there is just too much pain.
But there is happiness too. And I mean to find it. Yes, to actually pursue it.
Not that I am a miserable person, I do so love to have fun and to laugh. But I am coming to believe that happiness can and should be something that I can and will look for.
So my 20/20 project, will be my own "happiness project." For 20 weeks I will look for and I will find 20 "somethings" that make me the everyday kind of happy.
It is a challenge that I can sink my teeth into, look forward to.
And that makes me feel, well, happy.
So, she issued a invitation for fellow bloggers, friends, relatives etc. to join in some kind of challenge ourselves and she made several suggestions.
At first I though I would do 20 book recommendations. But on deeper reflection, I thought that for me, it would be the "easy" way out or in to the project... Reading is something I love to do and I've probably read thousands of books in my life time. So finding 20 more or even reporting on 20 that I loved while interesting didn't really offer me a significant challenge.
When I was out west visiting my sister in March she took me to her Book Club. They were discussing a book, "The Happiness Project" by Gretchen Rubin. In it she explores happiness, how to get it, how to keep it and so on. Having not read the book but intrigued by the subject I listened reflectively to the conversation swirling around me. I came to a rather shocking conclusion. At least it was shocking to me.
Happiness is not even something I have considered much in my life; not even as an option.
I am very familiar with the concepts of suffering and of joy. I grew up learning about and talking about suffering. I grew up learning about the concept of joy; not just everyday joy, but biblical joy.
I turned to my sister and said, "we weren't taught to be happy were we, or even that being happy is O.K.???" She agreed.
Now, don't get me wrong, my parents were, in my opinion, wonderful. Not perfect by any stretch of the imagination; but loving, thoughtful, genuinely caring people. And I do think that they liked us to be "happy." But the object of our lives, so I grew up believing both in church and at home was that holiness was more important than happiness. Holiness was being "like Jesus;" which is a great idea; but I don't think that a serious, unhappy Jesus is the Jesus that is the Jesus of the Bible.
Certainly, He suffered, immensely, greatly, incomparably. But I also think that He laughed, danced and enjoyed life. He made wine at a wedding for goodness sakes. And He had not just joy, but ordinary, everyday happiness.
I have certainly suffered in my life; physically, emotionally, mentally; all of it. I have had flashes of joy, laughter and delight.
But I wouldn't say I have been particularly happy, nor have I ever made it point to try to be happy.
Now I know that there are no guarantees in life. Suffering, can and does come, to all of us.
I have seen my dear friend's daughter contract leukemia at the age of 10 months and die at the age of three. My own sweet wee niece died when she was five years old, oh, the agony of the that. My beloved son, who was such a longed for, long awaited child and who is so very dearly loved, has veered of the straight path into a life lived largely to his own destruction. I've been divorced. Our darling daughter has numerous learning disabilities. Another so very much loved niece in her late twenties, is, courageously, bravely, fighting cancer. Sometimes, there is just too much pain.
But there is happiness too. And I mean to find it. Yes, to actually pursue it.
Not that I am a miserable person, I do so love to have fun and to laugh. But I am coming to believe that happiness can and should be something that I can and will look for.
So my 20/20 project, will be my own "happiness project." For 20 weeks I will look for and I will find 20 "somethings" that make me the everyday kind of happy.
It is a challenge that I can sink my teeth into, look forward to.
And that makes me feel, well, happy.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Headaches
My head hurts.
I want to crawl away, curl up and tunnel down.
I want sleep to come, to give relief.
I want the pain to end.
I want to crawl away, curl up and tunnel down.
I want sleep to come, to give relief.
I want the pain to end.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Friends
I love my friends.
They are part of the essence of who I am.
My friends listen to me; cry with me, laugh, giggle and have glorious fun with me.
At times my friends anchor my sanity.
They let me know when I am way out of line, in a gentle but definitive way. That takes courage and I love them for that.
My friends affirm me; encourage me, lift me to a place of growth. They are a source of incredible support.
Without my friends I think that I would have faded into nothingness by now...
My friends are breath to me when I feel I cannot go on. They are connection and warmth and joy.
My friends are loyal and fierce and believe in me no matter what.
What a gift I have.
My friends.
I love you.
They are part of the essence of who I am.
My friends listen to me; cry with me, laugh, giggle and have glorious fun with me.
At times my friends anchor my sanity.
They let me know when I am way out of line, in a gentle but definitive way. That takes courage and I love them for that.
My friends affirm me; encourage me, lift me to a place of growth. They are a source of incredible support.
Without my friends I think that I would have faded into nothingness by now...
My friends are breath to me when I feel I cannot go on. They are connection and warmth and joy.
My friends are loyal and fierce and believe in me no matter what.
What a gift I have.
My friends.
I love you.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Blue
Time drags it's feet.
My heart sinks. I'm filled with an ineffable longing.
I want...
So much.
How much grief can one heart hold and not split into a million fragments, slivered with pain. Glass slicing through the warm sun and the beautiful day. My heart in ribbons blowing in the wind.
You would think that on a day brilliant with sunshine, I would be lifted up...but I feel the darkness closing in. Tears choke in the back of my throat and wet my eyes, I blink them away.
For all the dreams I had a as young Mother, I now have failure, bleakness, time stretching ahead, a desert dry and stark with sorrow.
Tears stream now there is no stopping them. I am bereft. The pain takes over. A monster clawing at my chest.
How long...how long before there is fruition to my wailing, desperate prayers?
Still, I will NOT ever, ever give up.
NOT ever, ever give up hoping.
NOT ever, ever give up praying.
NOT ever, ever give up waiting.
For through the darkness, the Light of the world shines.
And for all the things I am not certain of, this I believe: that God hears my crying and my groaning. He holds me as I weep. He does answer prayer, in His time and in His way.
This I believe, this I will cling to.
So hold me, sweet Jesus in this darkness, hold me.
My heart sinks. I'm filled with an ineffable longing.
I want...
So much.
How much grief can one heart hold and not split into a million fragments, slivered with pain. Glass slicing through the warm sun and the beautiful day. My heart in ribbons blowing in the wind.
You would think that on a day brilliant with sunshine, I would be lifted up...but I feel the darkness closing in. Tears choke in the back of my throat and wet my eyes, I blink them away.
For all the dreams I had a as young Mother, I now have failure, bleakness, time stretching ahead, a desert dry and stark with sorrow.
Tears stream now there is no stopping them. I am bereft. The pain takes over. A monster clawing at my chest.
How long...how long before there is fruition to my wailing, desperate prayers?
Still, I will NOT ever, ever give up.
NOT ever, ever give up hoping.
NOT ever, ever give up praying.
NOT ever, ever give up waiting.
For through the darkness, the Light of the world shines.
And for all the things I am not certain of, this I believe: that God hears my crying and my groaning. He holds me as I weep. He does answer prayer, in His time and in His way.
This I believe, this I will cling to.
So hold me, sweet Jesus in this darkness, hold me.
Monday, May 24, 2010
The Zoo
Today we went to the zoo.
What is your favorite animal???
We saw lions, tigers, polar bears, flamingos, snowy owls, arctic foxes, black and tan spotted jaguars, gorillas, monkeys, white wolves, on and on the list goes.
My favorite was the jaguars. The black one with it's glistening coat, pacing back and forth, back and forth. You can sense that if it could, it would've pounced!
It was so very, very hot...The sun, bright and blazing. The sky, piercing blue.
Now I don't do so well in the heat...I start to get well, quite honestly, grumpy... And for an outing, that is supposed to be "fun," grumpy doesn't cut it.
My little girl kept asking me, "Mommy, are you happy???"
Happy?, goodness, I was HOT, flaming, hot.
Then we would go on a path that was shaded. A canopy of trees and a sweet, gentle breeze. That's my kind of happy.
My other favorite animal in the zoo is people...
I love to watch people; their interactions, their families, their clothing, just look... I find people fascinating.
"Mommy," my daughter asked as we were wandering through the zoo and she would see that I was distracted, "what are you doing?" "I'm people watching," I'd reply. "Mom! you shouldn't stare." "I'm not staring, I'm looking..." I would laugh.
Couples, walking hand in hand. Children, racing by. One child fell, and great crying and carrying on ensued. Then there was the comforting, the shushing, the patching up...
Families were sitting on blankets eating their picnic lunches. Another family group, arguing. More people meandering by, taking the day to be together and to get the kids out of the house for pity's sake!
Hubby, meanwhile is our tour guide, and we are to "follow" him. So, follow we do and after three hours we are tired and ready to go home.
But there is one last stop, the gift shop.
This is one of our daughter's favorite places at the zoo. She has birthday money and is itching to spend it. So in we go, up one aisle and down the other. Finally, she decides on a beautiful soft, fluffy polar bear and a tube of plastic animals.
She has always loved animals so we are not at all surprised with her choices. She is happy and we are content that our trip to the zoo has ended well.
What is your favorite animal???
We saw lions, tigers, polar bears, flamingos, snowy owls, arctic foxes, black and tan spotted jaguars, gorillas, monkeys, white wolves, on and on the list goes.
My favorite was the jaguars. The black one with it's glistening coat, pacing back and forth, back and forth. You can sense that if it could, it would've pounced!
It was so very, very hot...The sun, bright and blazing. The sky, piercing blue.
Now I don't do so well in the heat...I start to get well, quite honestly, grumpy... And for an outing, that is supposed to be "fun," grumpy doesn't cut it.
My little girl kept asking me, "Mommy, are you happy???"
Happy?, goodness, I was HOT, flaming, hot.
Then we would go on a path that was shaded. A canopy of trees and a sweet, gentle breeze. That's my kind of happy.
My other favorite animal in the zoo is people...
I love to watch people; their interactions, their families, their clothing, just look... I find people fascinating.
"Mommy," my daughter asked as we were wandering through the zoo and she would see that I was distracted, "what are you doing?" "I'm people watching," I'd reply. "Mom! you shouldn't stare." "I'm not staring, I'm looking..." I would laugh.
Couples, walking hand in hand. Children, racing by. One child fell, and great crying and carrying on ensued. Then there was the comforting, the shushing, the patching up...
Families were sitting on blankets eating their picnic lunches. Another family group, arguing. More people meandering by, taking the day to be together and to get the kids out of the house for pity's sake!
Hubby, meanwhile is our tour guide, and we are to "follow" him. So, follow we do and after three hours we are tired and ready to go home.
But there is one last stop, the gift shop.
This is one of our daughter's favorite places at the zoo. She has birthday money and is itching to spend it. So in we go, up one aisle and down the other. Finally, she decides on a beautiful soft, fluffy polar bear and a tube of plastic animals.
She has always loved animals so we are not at all surprised with her choices. She is happy and we are content that our trip to the zoo has ended well.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
A Song...
Only have One
by JJ and David Heller
"Nobody knows which way you'll go
I can't control you
I pray tomorrow is brighter than today
I should not try to live two lives
I only have one
I only have one
You have yours and I have mine
We only have one life
I watch you make the same mistake
You learn the hard way
I pray tomorrow you will hear
What love has to say
I should not try to live two lives
I only have one
I only have one
You have yours and I have mine
We only have one life
I try to hold you with an open hand
You run away
You're faster than I am
I can lead you to the water
But I cannot make you drink
Is it too much to ask for you
To simply stop and think
I should not try to live two lives
I only have one
I only have one..."
by JJ and David Heller
"Nobody knows which way you'll go
I can't control you
I pray tomorrow is brighter than today
I should not try to live two lives
I only have one
I only have one
You have yours and I have mine
We only have one life
I watch you make the same mistake
You learn the hard way
I pray tomorrow you will hear
What love has to say
I should not try to live two lives
I only have one
I only have one
You have yours and I have mine
We only have one life
I try to hold you with an open hand
You run away
You're faster than I am
I can lead you to the water
But I cannot make you drink
Is it too much to ask for you
To simply stop and think
I should not try to live two lives
I only have one
I only have one..."
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
A Severe Mercy
Some things that happen in life are severe mercies.
You pray and you pray and you pray for a person and then something awful happens. You are stunned, drop kicked in the gut. You reel in horror.
In retrospect though, you can see that the situation, if left to its natural conclusion or allowed to go on and on would have brought even graver consequences.
So today, I am thankful for the severe mercy God allowed in the life of one I love so very, very much.
It could have been so, so much worse.
Your mercies, O Lord, are new every day; even if it takes us a while to recognize them.
You pray and you pray and you pray for a person and then something awful happens. You are stunned, drop kicked in the gut. You reel in horror.
In retrospect though, you can see that the situation, if left to its natural conclusion or allowed to go on and on would have brought even graver consequences.
So today, I am thankful for the severe mercy God allowed in the life of one I love so very, very much.
It could have been so, so much worse.
Your mercies, O Lord, are new every day; even if it takes us a while to recognize them.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Relief...and thoughts on Authenticity
Relief lightens the load...
I float like a butterfly, delicate and airy, lighting on the flowers of hope and happiness.
Laughter comes much more easily, tension leaks out draining the wound of wondering.
Quietly, though, I ponder tragedy and the role it so often plays in all of our lives. We are "supposed" to have peace no matter what our circumstances and I have always wondered about that.
I am frail, fraught with every emotion given as gifts to the human race. The gift of feeling and yes, acknowledging the very potent emotions that often swirl around us tornado like, does not fit the system I have often been taught to subscribe to.
Frankly, I hate pretense. The masks I am subtly told to wear, make me rebellious. I will not comply with this show of "perfection" or of being what some believe is a good "Christian."
I long for authenticity. To be who I am: fears, angers, joys, griefs, and hidden complexities. All of this, and also a fierce belief in a God who doesn't want me to be a phony makes me thumb my nose at convention.
I will not be a cookie cutter person.
I think we are longing for reality. To know that who we are, in all our joys and all our griefs is greatly valued by God.
The gift we can give each other is the freedom to know and to be known. To love one another because of and in spite of our many good points and our glaring weaknesses.
And to know that we are loved by a tender, loving, Almighty God just as we are is gift we can give ourselves.
This doesn't mean there is no room for personal growth, but that this growth is carved out in careful thoughtfulness and not in playing the game. This is what I think makes growth real, tangible, touchable and even attainable.
Peace will come and it will sometimes desperately desert us.
But we can plant our feet in the soil of authenticity knowing that as we experience the great expanse of emotions God created us to have we no longer have to be afraid to express those feelings or to let those feelings be woven into the stories of our lives.
And that brings me great relief.
I float like a butterfly, delicate and airy, lighting on the flowers of hope and happiness.
Laughter comes much more easily, tension leaks out draining the wound of wondering.
Quietly, though, I ponder tragedy and the role it so often plays in all of our lives. We are "supposed" to have peace no matter what our circumstances and I have always wondered about that.
I am frail, fraught with every emotion given as gifts to the human race. The gift of feeling and yes, acknowledging the very potent emotions that often swirl around us tornado like, does not fit the system I have often been taught to subscribe to.
Frankly, I hate pretense. The masks I am subtly told to wear, make me rebellious. I will not comply with this show of "perfection" or of being what some believe is a good "Christian."
I long for authenticity. To be who I am: fears, angers, joys, griefs, and hidden complexities. All of this, and also a fierce belief in a God who doesn't want me to be a phony makes me thumb my nose at convention.
I will not be a cookie cutter person.
I think we are longing for reality. To know that who we are, in all our joys and all our griefs is greatly valued by God.
The gift we can give each other is the freedom to know and to be known. To love one another because of and in spite of our many good points and our glaring weaknesses.
And to know that we are loved by a tender, loving, Almighty God just as we are is gift we can give ourselves.
This doesn't mean there is no room for personal growth, but that this growth is carved out in careful thoughtfulness and not in playing the game. This is what I think makes growth real, tangible, touchable and even attainable.
Peace will come and it will sometimes desperately desert us.
But we can plant our feet in the soil of authenticity knowing that as we experience the great expanse of emotions God created us to have we no longer have to be afraid to express those feelings or to let those feelings be woven into the stories of our lives.
And that brings me great relief.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Good Days...
Good days unfold like the spring sunshine warming us after the cold, cold winter.
They start with a gentle awakening, drowsy with sleep, eyes half mast, holding the hand of the one I love.
I get and up greet the day. I pull on my workout clothes and head down to exercise, "walk, walk, walk." I love this newfound routine (now on my fourth month). The blood pumps through my veins and I am invigorated. I am building up strength and becoming more fit. It feels good.
Saturday morning breakfasts. They are a family affair. No rushing to get out the door. We just talk and work together, usually we make bacon and some kind of eggs. Our daughter's favorite is pancakes but this morning we are going for eggs over-easy, bacon and grits (grits are hubby's favorite and hearken back to days of his grandmother living with them.) Grandma (hubby's grandma) was originally from Florida and this is definitely a southern twist to our Canadian breakfast.
Today is our daughter's party day. This is the day she celebrates with friends. So streamers have been hung, balloons blown up, party chips and pop purchased. A friend has made an "Animal Crossing" cake for her. I go to meet her husband to pick up the cake. It is lovely and has been carefully packed for transportation purposes. I drive home oh so carefully, turning corners gingerly so as to not overturn this beautiful creation.
Unlike Monday, the sense of the frantic, hurry, hurry is not here. All that we have to do is measured, sure, relaxed. Hubby takes daughter to Tap lessons, while I stay home to put the finishing touches on decorations and food preparations. Last minute cleaning is done and we're ready.
The friends arrive one by one and the party goes off well... I congratulate myself silently, we've had games, crafts, food and lots of fun. I am pleased about this. It is good to celebrate and nothing mars the day.
One friend stays behind. She'll be here for a sleepover. Hubby and I clean up and then we are able to relax, put up our feet and read together. The kids play happily in the basement. Hubby dozes off and I enjoy my book.
It's been a good day. And I am grateful.
They start with a gentle awakening, drowsy with sleep, eyes half mast, holding the hand of the one I love.
I get and up greet the day. I pull on my workout clothes and head down to exercise, "walk, walk, walk." I love this newfound routine (now on my fourth month). The blood pumps through my veins and I am invigorated. I am building up strength and becoming more fit. It feels good.
Saturday morning breakfasts. They are a family affair. No rushing to get out the door. We just talk and work together, usually we make bacon and some kind of eggs. Our daughter's favorite is pancakes but this morning we are going for eggs over-easy, bacon and grits (grits are hubby's favorite and hearken back to days of his grandmother living with them.) Grandma (hubby's grandma) was originally from Florida and this is definitely a southern twist to our Canadian breakfast.
Today is our daughter's party day. This is the day she celebrates with friends. So streamers have been hung, balloons blown up, party chips and pop purchased. A friend has made an "Animal Crossing" cake for her. I go to meet her husband to pick up the cake. It is lovely and has been carefully packed for transportation purposes. I drive home oh so carefully, turning corners gingerly so as to not overturn this beautiful creation.
Unlike Monday, the sense of the frantic, hurry, hurry is not here. All that we have to do is measured, sure, relaxed. Hubby takes daughter to Tap lessons, while I stay home to put the finishing touches on decorations and food preparations. Last minute cleaning is done and we're ready.
The friends arrive one by one and the party goes off well... I congratulate myself silently, we've had games, crafts, food and lots of fun. I am pleased about this. It is good to celebrate and nothing mars the day.
One friend stays behind. She'll be here for a sleepover. Hubby and I clean up and then we are able to relax, put up our feet and read together. The kids play happily in the basement. Hubby dozes off and I enjoy my book.
It's been a good day. And I am grateful.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Waiting and Uncertainty
Fear screeches, squealing brakes, racing around the corners of my mind.
I am waiting for results and having successfully dismissed the implications heretofore, am no longer blissfully tamped down, and the fire of uncertainty licks at my feet.
I had a endoscope awhile ago; down into my throat, through the esophagus and into my small intestines. The Doctor's immediate response was, no more ulcer, and that he took some biopsies.
Anyway, last week I got a call to go in for a follow-up. Now in my experience they usually don't call you back when everything is fine. But having to wait until this coming Monday and with my daughter's birthday, I was able to distract myself, turn the faucet of my thoughts right off.
Until last night.
I awoke, and then I started thinking. Big mistake. "What ifs" roll in like waves crashing on the sand of my life. I toss and turn, toss and turn. Sleep eludes me, fear taunts me.
I am not, I don't think, particularly brave. I like order, predictability and am not fond of change. I do not like physical suffering. I have had many, many long years of chronic pain and have lost days, missed big events, beautiful days and life in general. The threat of something bigger on the horizon makes me feel like there is a bully breathing down my neck and I cringe and shrink back.
I know intellectually that it may not be what I am fearing. It may be something that is easily dealt with...but emotionally, I am tense, keyed up, anxious.
I have lived long enough to know that all kinds of disease, suffering and tragedy happens every day, to myself, to those I love, to friends, acquaintances and strangers...There are no guarantees.
So in my waiting room I pace, thoughts chasing each other round and round the room.
I rein them in. What can I do, while I wait???
Well, I have also lived long enough to know other things too...that there are things that anchor me, things that still the boat being tossed on the water of my fears.
I know that I am loved deeply, intensely and personally by my Heavenly Father. I know that He has promised He will never leave me or forsake me. I know that He will not necessarily remove all obstacles, tragedies, or disease from my life (and most often I am not spared from these), but that He will most certainly sustain me, lift me up and comfort me.
He can, He will and He does weep with me.
He listens to me, while I rail in confusion, pain, anger or bewilderment. He takes my face in His hands and whispers to me, "I love you and what hurts you, hurts me. Come to Me little one, come to Me, let Me carry you."
So, I go, I run to that "throne of grace, to find help and mercy in time of need." I climb onto my Heavenly Father's lap, curl up into His arms and He rocks me, gently and tenderly.
Here is my Rock, here is my Refuge, here is my "very present help in time of need."
I am certain that He is with me, for now, for tomorrow and for all the days to come.
So, as I wait I tuck deeper into His arms and hold on tightly.
I am waiting for results and having successfully dismissed the implications heretofore, am no longer blissfully tamped down, and the fire of uncertainty licks at my feet.
I had a endoscope awhile ago; down into my throat, through the esophagus and into my small intestines. The Doctor's immediate response was, no more ulcer, and that he took some biopsies.
Anyway, last week I got a call to go in for a follow-up. Now in my experience they usually don't call you back when everything is fine. But having to wait until this coming Monday and with my daughter's birthday, I was able to distract myself, turn the faucet of my thoughts right off.
Until last night.
I awoke, and then I started thinking. Big mistake. "What ifs" roll in like waves crashing on the sand of my life. I toss and turn, toss and turn. Sleep eludes me, fear taunts me.
I am not, I don't think, particularly brave. I like order, predictability and am not fond of change. I do not like physical suffering. I have had many, many long years of chronic pain and have lost days, missed big events, beautiful days and life in general. The threat of something bigger on the horizon makes me feel like there is a bully breathing down my neck and I cringe and shrink back.
I know intellectually that it may not be what I am fearing. It may be something that is easily dealt with...but emotionally, I am tense, keyed up, anxious.
I have lived long enough to know that all kinds of disease, suffering and tragedy happens every day, to myself, to those I love, to friends, acquaintances and strangers...There are no guarantees.
So in my waiting room I pace, thoughts chasing each other round and round the room.
I rein them in. What can I do, while I wait???
Well, I have also lived long enough to know other things too...that there are things that anchor me, things that still the boat being tossed on the water of my fears.
I know that I am loved deeply, intensely and personally by my Heavenly Father. I know that He has promised He will never leave me or forsake me. I know that He will not necessarily remove all obstacles, tragedies, or disease from my life (and most often I am not spared from these), but that He will most certainly sustain me, lift me up and comfort me.
He can, He will and He does weep with me.
He listens to me, while I rail in confusion, pain, anger or bewilderment. He takes my face in His hands and whispers to me, "I love you and what hurts you, hurts me. Come to Me little one, come to Me, let Me carry you."
So, I go, I run to that "throne of grace, to find help and mercy in time of need." I climb onto my Heavenly Father's lap, curl up into His arms and He rocks me, gently and tenderly.
Here is my Rock, here is my Refuge, here is my "very present help in time of need."
I am certain that He is with me, for now, for tomorrow and for all the days to come.
So, as I wait I tuck deeper into His arms and hold on tightly.
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