~ A Joy Warrior's Journey
To my amusement, I found myself
pulling on my sneakers, camera at hand,
as if my body decided it was going
to the park without even telling me.
Those butterflies you wanted to see?
Oh! Okay.
Sometimes magic happens.
Some whim sets your direction.
Go with it. You might find butterflies.
The layers of sumac fronds,
each a different shade of green
depending on how the sun
catches them or whether it does,
remind me of paintings by an artist
whose name I can’t recall.
But another memory comes to mind
of sitting with my dad on a sand dune
overlooking Lake Superior watching
the sun drop through a sky drenched
in pinks and corals, aqua, blazing gold.
We were silent for a long time.
Then my dad said, “Whoever paints those
sure does a great job.”
That about says it all.
I look at the sumac and smile.
Ask any yellow zinnia.
The whole point of it all is to shine.
Just to stand, facing the sun,
your arms wide open to the sky,
willing to accept whatever it sends you,
sending it, in return, all that you are,
your whole light, your whole song.
And even that is such small thanks
for this unspeakable moment of being.
Okay, I gotta be straight with you. The hard part of talking about how to bring more happiness into your life is that a bunch of you thinks happiness is some kind of frivolous, self-indulgent thing, irrelevant to life in the real, grown-up world. So maybe you’re just skipping over this little series of letters.
Don’t.
Happiness matters. Regardless of what you might think you want out of life, happiness is at the core of it. It’s what lets us feel at peace with the world, with ourselves, with each other. It gives us the energy to take care of ourselves and those we care about. And it helps tip the balance of the world in a positive direction. It opens us to greater creativity, better problem-solving, improved health, and more authentic communication. We contribute more when we’re happy.
And today I’m going to give you another key to unlocking your happiness. In addition to the time it takes to read the following instructions, it will only take you about five minutes to do—and if you’re like most people, you’ll be happier when you finish than when you began. Do take those five minutes, won’t you? Just for fun?
Here’s how it goes. First, do a little self-inventory. Ask yourself how you feel overall right now—on a scale of 1 to 10. Just do a quick scan of yourself and make a mental note of it.
Now you’re ready to begin. You’re going to make a list – one you can keep. So get a sheet of paper and a pen or open a blank page on your word processor, or make a new note on your notes app. (If all else fails, you can list items on your fingers, as if you’re counting things.) Then set a timer of some kind for five minutes.
As soon as you start the timer, begin listing everything you can think of that makes you happy. (Note: Only list things that genuinely do make you happy—not the things you think should make you happy or that somebody else thinks should make you happy. Your happiness is a one-of-a-kind, wholly original, unique-to-you thing.)
It helped me to imagine I was completing the sentence, “I feel happy when . . .” But you can simply ask yourself “What makes me happy?” The key is to list anything and everything that pops into your head. If you get stuck, ask yourself, “What else?”
More hints: Don’t neglect the small things. List things that give you comfort, things that make you laugh, things that delight your senses, things that help you relax, things that make you feel satisfied, things that make you feel connected, or accomplished, or energized.
Don’t feel rushed. Just let thoughts and memories come to you when you ask yourself to run a little inventory for you. Notice the things that arise and the feelings that come with them. Spend the whole five minutes letting the answers and images come—even if your pace slows to snail speed or you can’t think of a thing after the first minute. Just enjoy what arises and make a little note of it.
At the end of the five minutes, stop and note how you feel. As I mentioned, most people will feel happier. But some will feel frustrated or sad or stuck. That’s okay; we’ll deal with that in later letters. Save your list somewhere that you can find it so you can refer to it later.
That’s the whole exercise.
And even though the exercise is finished after five minutes, chances are your brain will keep pointing out more things to you as the day goes on. All week, for that matter, you may very well be noticing or remembering things that make you happy. Consider that a bonus, and feel free to add more things to your list. We’ll play with your list again in a later letter.
Remember, we’re doing this to make the world a better place. Your world. The world you share with everybody else. So grab yourself five minutes, and let’s get to rockin’ it!
Wishing you a week of delightful discoveries!
Warmly,
Susan
Image by Rona Abdullah from Pixabay
On those days when you just feel so great, hon,
when your whole body feels so fine,
when the sky is so clear and the sun is so warm,
and everything’s singing it song,
you go right ahead and strut your stuff, babe,
dance through the world like you own it.
I walk very slowly, one gentle step at a time.
The quiet of the morning requires it.
I stop in tall grasses dotted with chicory,
the season’s first, its petals blue as sky,
and smile to see the buds of water lilies,
poking out from beneath their lily pad leaves
like round little lemons, the lake’s still waters
mirroring them. Here, despite everything,
the Yes remains, breathing its spacious peace,
just to remind us.
At noon on the last day of July
I got to pick them. I’ve been waiting
and watching for a couple weeks,
ever since my friend invited me
to help myself. “Nobody here,”
he said, “is going to pick them.”
He drove me around the place
in his golf cart to show me where
they hid. Then we waited.
And today was the day.
A hot one, and dry. The berries
looked like jeweled globes,
and my mouth watered
at the mere thought
of their tart juice exploding
on my tongue. I reached through
the tangles of thorny branches,
watching the ripe ones fall into my hand
at the slightest touch, the sun white
and dazzling in my eyes, birds telling
each other that a woman was down there
picking berries. But she was leaving some.
They made me laugh. I filled my bowl.
“You don’t get to pick wild blackberries
very many times in your life,” I told my friend,
thanking him for the fine adventure.
“Especially at high noon on the very last day of July.”
Queen Anne spreads her ivory lace
across the meadows, her black-red ruby
proclaiming her right to rule.
The grasses bow to her fragrance.
The clover rises to applaud.
The sky sends popcorn clouds
to mirror her beauty. Ebony wasps
and iridescent flies buzz their joy,
and all the meadow sings.
Oh, how the meadow sings!
The seasons don’t follow our calendar.
They have one of their own. In theirs,
it’s not here one day, gone the next.
It’s more like a spiraling flow, the ending
of one song blending into the next,
changing its tone, introducing a new theme.
A note here and there, a phrase,
a fragrance, a measure of unexpected
heat or cold alerts you if you are awake
to such things. Here, in late July,
the tree of heaven is showing off
thick clumps of rosy, ripening seeds
and the corn is tall in the fields.
It’s not clear at first what is real, what is dream,
what is fog, what is hilltop, what is cloud, what is sky.
Illusion rolls into illusion. Let it be. The dawn requires
no naming, no interpretation. It carries its own light.
Watch. Listen. Breathe.