It’s early afternoon as I climb the slope. This morning two doe ascended this very trail and the woods, now silent, save for the barking of a dog on the other side of the valley, were filled with birdsong, I had a conversation with the cardinal. We often chat. Birds nap, or so I think, mid-day. I’ve long thought them wise. I like to picture them cradled in this green, a gentle breeze rocking them, dreaming little birdie dreams. I place my steps softly, lest I disturb them. I rest at the base of the ancient tree I call Mother Maple. She stands near the crown of the slope her broad limbs raised in celebration to the sky regardless of the season. She has a fine view. I pat her trunk with my open palm, her life force flowing into me bright as the afternoon sun and as warm, as glad. She is why I climbed. Just to say an up-close hello on this lush, warm day in late July.
A while back, a friend of mine said, “I don’t know why you bother writing that stuff. Nobody does any of those things anyway.” That was, I knew, probably close to the truth of the matter. How many hundreds of books and articles had I read without taking action?
But I knew, too, that just because somebody doesn’t take action right now doesn’t mean they never will. Seeds grow roots and sprout in their own right time. Besides, learning about ways to live a happier, more satisfying life at least gives you hope that it’s possible.
One of my favorite quotes about making life-alterations is this one: “If you want to change your life, you have to change your life.” Think about that for a minute. It’s the very crux of the problem. We’re comfortable where we are, for better or for worse, and learning new patterns doesn’t come easily. It means having to let go of a familiar pattern to make room for the new one. The new pattern is scary; it’s the unknown, after all. It sets our nerves to tingling just a bit.
So to be honest, I don’t expect that many of you actually set an intention to be happier, or tried looking ahead at your day before you got out of bed, imagining what it would feel like to be happy as you did each thing you expected to do. And that’s okay. The seed is planted.
I have a bigger seed for you this week. It’s one with a tougher shell. It goes by the unpopular name “Accountability.” But hold on—this isn’t the kind of accountability where you’re held responsible by some stern external authority. It’s a whole lot more inviting than that, and it’s what powers your intention to be happier. Here’s how happiness researchers Foster and Hicks describe it:
“The brand of accountability that happy people talk about . . . is a feeling that we are in charge of our own lives and that no one else has power over us. It’s honoring our right to craft a life for ourselves that is rewarding, rich and exuberant. It’s the assumption that no matter what life presents we have the ability to move ahead—to do something good for ourselves, to make a difference, to have an effect.”
Here’s what it means. Even under the most difficult circumstances, you refuse to see yourself as a victim. YOU are in charge of your life. You give up blaming other people or circumstances or events—past or present. You give up complaining that they are the cause of your misery or discontent. Instead, you forge ahead, taking whatever actions you can to improve the quality of your life, here and now. And that can be as easy as remembering to smile.
The tough shell that encases this power seed is the necessity to become aware of when you’re blaming someone or something else for your lack of happiness, or of blaming something that happened in the past. What happened in the past is passed. It’s not here now, except in the form of a repeated story that you tell yourself (and probably tell others) as a ‘reason’ why you’re limited and miserable.
Blame serves no purpose, Foster and Hicks point out. It doesn’t ever get us what we truly desire.
One way to overcome blaming is to ask yourself, “What was my part in it? How can I change things? What can I learn from this experience?”
Key times to look for a tendency to blame is when you’re becoming defensive, or when you’re feeling envy, or jealousy, or resentment. Questioning the part you played in the situation gives you the power to move through it authentically instead of getting mired in needing other people to be different than they are. Catch yourself wanting to put all the blame outside yourself and then ask, “Is this how I want to be? Is this really the response that’s going to solve things?”
Accountability is honoring your right to make choices, choices that align with your intention to be the most contented, capable, authentic person you are capable of being, choices for happiness.
I wish you a week of willingness to let go of defensiveness and blame and to embrace control of your responses to life in their stead.
You’ll deserve some fun as a reward, so next week we’ll hunt for the things that delight you.
Here, in this transitory moment, is everything you need to know. The whole story. All the answers. Take it in. Let it find its home in you. Taste its flavors. Feel its song. Know its peace.
Two fireflies danced through the woods last night, the sight all the more precious now that their season has reached its final days. Overhead, the first evening stars sparkled against a dark velvet sky whose western horizon still glowed with a deep orange gold. I slept in the sweetness of perfumed air that carried the songs of crickets and frogs. Then, when I woke, the world had been transformed, the night’s twinkling lights exchanged for a shimmer of dew, its tiny globes sparkling from every emerald blade of grass. Such gifts, so freely given! These wondrous, velvet nights, and all the glistening mornings.
Okay, summer; you win. I admit that at first I was put off by your incessant rains. And when they ceased, I didn’t trust your dazzle, seeing it as so much show, an act. But now you have convinced me. Your sincerity is everywhere, deep in its greens, devoted in its endless display of color. And at last your warmth has penetrated my understanding, and I want nothing more than to sink into your loving emerald arms.
The creek, despite our abundant rains, is surprisingly dry, its rocky bed exposed along the shore and making islands in its center. Still, sheltered as it is by the wooded hills, it cools its surrounds and sings its quiet song. And here and there, where the light rolls down and falls beneath its surface, you can see its clarity.
Light does that. Its radiant energy rolls all the way from the sun, down through the millions of miles of space, through the layers of atmosphere and cloud, past the thick canopy of dancing leaves and through the slow whispering waters until it finds earth, bouncing off everything on its way, flowing right into your eyes to show you clearly the truth of what’s there, the Yes of all the things that were hidden in shadow before it came, rolling down.
Oh yes, there are lakes here, too, shimmering bodies of fresh water that reflect the blue sky and the green of the forested hills surrounding them. Silvery fish swim in their waters, and geese paddle past or bask on the shores in the grass. And oh! The wildflowers dancing on the shore! This is summer in its perfection. Wish you were here!
The creek is nearly dry now, the rocks that make up its bed exposed. Feeling the dry air against their surfaces, they remember the high places from which they fell ages ago, and before that, the eons they spent inside the earth’s womb until the thunderous tumult pushed them upward through its crust until they reached the sky. They recall the way trees grew between them, winding their great roots in a living caress, freeing them, one by one, to tumble downward, to begin the long journey home.
Every now and then something catches my eye, and I hear a whispered invitation: Look. I’ve learned humbly to accept, to focus my attention on the sight before me. Then I gasp in wonder and awe.
What would it be like to feel contented in my life? What would it be like to feel capable of dealing with whatever comes along? What would it be like to feel centered and at home with myself, where I felt free to choose whatever would bring me the greatest sense of well-being?
Two weeks ago I invited you to create dramatically heightened happiness for yourself. If you decided to play along, those are the questions you might have considered. (You can still choose to ask them of yourself now, if you like. The option to choose happiness never goes away.) They’re important questions to consider. They’re the ones that begin drawing you in the direction of a freer, more joyful life.
Once you roll those questions around and decide you want to taste more of this contented-capable-centered stuff, you’re ready to begin claiming it for yourself. And the first step to staking your claim is to set your intention to be happy.
To set an intention is different from wanting or wishing for something. It’s not the same as setting a goal. An intention is a decision you make, sincerely, about how you want to expand your experience of life to include more happiness. It’s a commitment, a ruling-out of all other options. It’s saying to yourself, “I’m choosing more happiness for myself, and I’m going to have it, by gum!” (“By gum,” if you haven’t heard that expression before, is something like “dagnabit.” It’s a from-your-gut statement of unmovable determination.”)
But the firmness of your intention doesn’t mean it should be a struggle. In fact, the intention to be happy is more like letting go of stress and struggle, of sinking into the ease of contentment. It’s a matter of allowing yourself to make little moment-by-moment adjustments, little choices for your well-being, as you go throughout your day.
Dr. Joe Dispenza, who teaches people how to create dramatic changes in their lives, explains that your intention has vigor when you combine it with the feelings you expect it to produce. So take some time to recall and savor how it felt when you were completely content, when you felt self-assured, when you felt grounded. It’s the emotion of happiness, this combination of contentment, capability, and centeredness, that carries your vision of happiness into your reality.
Here’s what you do: In the morning, before you open your eyes, think about what it would feel like to be happy as you go through the day ahead, at ease in it. Imagine how the activities you have planned for the day would be done by a contented, confident, centered person.
Happiness researchers Foster and Hicks suggest that one way you can do this is to think about the things you have planned for the day (finishing the report, doing the laundry, making the commute—whatever) and then say to yourself, “I intend to get the laundry done-and to be happy doing it.” Add the phrase “and to be happy doing it” after each activity you imagine yourself doing through the day.
You’re making a mental movie here in the moments before your day begins, a little video of the day ahead where you star in it as a confident, relaxed you, content to be doing whatever task is at hand, open and accepting of whatever comes your way. Imagine feeling completely at ease and centered. Feel the feeling of it.
Then, pay attention to the emotions that arise during the day—stress, irritation, frustration, disappointment—that anchor you to your old way of being and decide if they belong in your future. Remember what the feelings from your morning movie were like and see if you can let yourself sort of sink into them, the way that you would sink into a warm, welcoming pool.
Dr. Dispenza, in his YouTube video on Intention, says to notice what you’re thinking/feeling, and to practice maintaining your future feelings (the happiness you intend for yourself) continuously in order to build the new neural connections in your brain. “What you practice, you get good at,” the old saying goes. Your happier new life is something you move into by practicing it – both mentally and in your behaviors.
One way to turn things around when you find that you’ve slipped into a negative mood is to ask yourself what’s good about the moment and see how many things you can name.
Watch for little signs that you’re on the right path. They’ll pop up like surprising little notes of joy. Notice when you experience more happiness and how good it feels. Notice smiles as they spread across your face. Catch yourself laughing. Then, when you’re making the next morning’s “Movie of My Day,” incorporate those feelings into it and dare to turn it up a notch higher.
Make it an intention to keeppracticing, to stay aware. Once you start getting those bright, little joy-flashes, you’ll never settle for humdrum again.
Wishing you a week of gentle, joyful smiles!
Next week, we’ll look at what it takes to stay on track.
