Category: Sunday Letters

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}

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.

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by Frauke Riether from Pixabay}

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.

Ask yourself:

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 keep practicing, 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.

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by Vilius Kukanauskas from Pixabay}

It almost seems quaint now, living in a house that’s crammed with actual books. But that’s me. They’re in every room but the kitchen, and sometimes you’ll find a couple of them there, too.

Every now and then, one of them that I haven’t read in a decade or so kind of yells at me from its place on the shelf: “Hey! Hey! Over here!” And I pull it out and see what it has to say.

This week the one that called to me was How We Choose to be Happy, by Rick Foster and Greg Hicks, two guys who decided to see how happy people got that way and set out on a world-wide search. They interviewed hundreds of people and then studied the results. They knew going in that people have a sort of inborn set-point; some have happier genes than others. But what they found was that regardless of their normal level of happiness, everybody who made nine specific choices raised their happiness level far above the level where they started.

I figured it might be fun to share the nine choices that lead to dramatically increased happiness with you over the next few weeks, just in case you’re kind of bored with cruising at the same old level. We can make a game out of it. First I’ll tell you how to gauge how happy you are now and you can rate yourself on a scale of 1-10, where 1 is “My life sucks” and 10 is “Loving my life totally.” We’ll call that scale your “Happiness Quotient.” Then in, oh, maybe the middle of September, we’ll have a Happiness Review so you can see how far you’ve come. Deal?

Okay. Here’s a way to look at your happiness level. You can’t measure it if you’re not clear about what it is, right? That’s what Foster and Hicks figured out, too. So they asked happy people how they defined happiness. “What we heard was that true happiness is a profound, enduring feeling of contentment, capability and centeredness—the 3 C’s.”

They say that happiness is “a rich sense of well-being that comes from knowing you can deal productively and creatively with all that life offers—both the good and the bad. It’s knowing your internal self and responding to your real needs, rather than the demands of others. And it’s a deep sense of engagement—living in the moment and enjoying life’s bounty.”

That’s a complex definition, but as clear a one as I’ve ever found. So to begin, think about those three C’s. How deep and enduring are your feelings of contentment? How capable do you feel you are in dealing with whatever life brings? How anchored are you in your own real wants and needs, instead of those of others? Then give yourself a rating 1-10. Maybe print out this page and write your number on it. Or copy it to a file and start a little Happiness Journal.

As we go along, I’ll suggest some exercises and practices you can do to expand and deepen your experience of happiness. This week’s suggestion is simply to play along. Take a measure of your current happiness level so you will know where you were when you began.

The reward for playing is that by mid-September, you’ll be well on your way to the happiest YOU that you’ve ever been. Cool, huh?

Here’s a teaser for you: Next week, we’ll look at the first choice you’ll be invited to make—the choice of intending to be happy. Look at those three C’s again and play with that idea. Ask yourself whether you’re willing to set an intention to be happier. We’ll look at the why’s and how’s, and then you can choose.

Meanwhile, I wish you a week of curious anticipation!

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by Clker-Free-Vector-Images from Pixabay
Sad Emoji; Smiley Emoji}

Sometimes when I hear a thought or phrase that I like, I jot it down on a scrap of paper. One day I made a collage with some of the scraps, pasting them onto a finger-painted background. Usually I walk past it without glancing at it; it’s been on my office wall for a fairly long while. But one day I heard a poll that stunned me and called one of the thoughts to mind.

The poll asked Americans how often they felt afraid. To my astonishment, a little over 50% of the respondents said they felt afraid at least once a day—even when they were in their own homes.

It wasn’t so much that people were feeling anxious that surprised me. We are, it seems, being pummeled by threatening events, both natural and man-made, these days. Every day it’s something new and dire—floods, fires, erupting volcanoes, rampant inflation, violent crime, looming diseases, domestic contention, international unrest. If you pay attention at all, feeling some level of uneasiness is a given, however slight it might be.

What surprised me about the survey was how many of us said they felt outright fear at least once a day, and that they felt it even when they were secure in their own homes. Frankly, that alarmed me. The “fear porn” craze that’s beaming at us from every form of media is having a greater impact than I imagined.

“News,” of course, from whatever source, has always featured the most alarming or tragic events. It’s drama that sells. But these days the news seems darker than ever, as if some thick, ominous cloud was enveloping the world. A lot of us feel a kind of tension in the air, as if a dangerous storm is looming. And maybe it is. Life on this planet comes with storms.

We’re also living in a time of rapidly accelerating change. We hardly have time to learn how to operate our daily systems and tools before they need an upgrade. We’re constantly adjusting to something different, and that can be nerve-wracking in itself.

But you know what? Even if this stretch of the road is a mess and we seem to be going too fast, we’re alive. We’re alive, and we’re human beings. And that’s a lot. Humans are remarkable beings, after all, capable of amazing feats. We’re resilient and creative. We’re prone to kindness and hope. We’re inventive and resourceful. We persevere and endure. We have spirit and reason and beating hearts and pumping lungs and voices. And more than that, down deep, we love each other.

When the world’s moving too fast, slow down. Take in your surroundings. Chances are the things around you are pretty much the same as the last time you noticed them. Same scene, same people, same sky. And here you are, alive and breathing in the midst of it, right this very minute. Let yourself notice that. Think about all that had to have happened, exactly as they did, for you to be here at all, experiencing being human in a complex, ever-changing world. Then decide to make the best of it—no matter how paltry your best, from time to time, might seem. You matter, you know.

Oh, and that quote on my bulletin board? It says, “Alertness and paranoia are not the same thing. Be aware and at peace.” Personally, I think that’s good counsel.

Wishing you a week of peace and smooth going.

Warmly,
Susan

Image by mohamed Hassan from Pixabay

Today is Father’s Day here in the USA, and I’ve been thinking about my own dad, a good man, loved by all who knew him. Dads matter, you know. If you’re a dad, I wish you an outstanding day. If you have a dad, think about how lucky you are, and tell him.

If your father has passed away, I’m posting this story from last year again especially for you. Its ending gave my heart a warm glow as I thought of my own dad, and of other dear ones who have gone.

*              *              *

This is one of those little hometown stories you don’t hear much any more. It’s about my neighbor’s son-in-law, Shawn.

Shawn worked as a meat cutter at the big chain grocery store up the road a couple miles. He’d always nod and smile when he saw me. But ahead of his job, the passion of his life was his membership in the township’s Volunteer Fire Department.

Last winter, Shawn took ill and was diagnosed with one of those “turbo-cancers” that have sprung up in the past couple years. They develop quickly and effect different areas of the body simultaneously or in rapid succession.

Shawn fought it valiantly. But last Tuesday the doctors said there was no more they could do and sent him home to die surrounded by his family.

The family set up a bed for him in the living room where he could look out the front door at the neighborhood. There was something special coming, they told him, they wanted him to see.

A few hours later, as a light rain fell from a pale sky, the sound of a fire truck’s siren ripped through the air, followed by another, and another, and another. Trucks had come from departments all around the county. One even came from E. Palestine, Ohio. Shawn hadn’t been able to fight the fire the night of the derailment there last winter, but his wife went, fighting along with the rest of the department.

The bond among fire-fighters is strong. They came this night to tell Shawn they loved and respected him, to honor his years of service. The red and white lights of their trucks glistened in the rain as they drove in a slow parade all around his block, sirens wailing.

Shawn watched from his bed, smiling. Two days later, he was gone.

My heart goes out to the family. They’ve been through the wringer the past couple years. But it never got them down.

I was thinking about Shawn and his family yesterday when I came across a short story called “The Black Telephone.” It’s a beautiful little story and worth a read. In one part of it, the story-teller’s pet canary dies. He’s just a little kid at the time and the death confuses him. He goes to a wise older friend. Here’s the excerpt from the story:

I asked her, “Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?”

She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, “Wayne, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in.”

Somehow I felt better.

I felt better, too. For a minute, I imagined a grinning Shawn giving rides to smiling children and puppies in a big shiny fire truck up in some corner of heaven.

You know, it can be a tough world. There’s a lot of pain and sorrow here. Remember to be kind. And when you lose someone dear, take comfort in remembering that there are other worlds to sing in.

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by Steven Iodice from Pixabay}

I thought I’d chat with you today about the bravery game and the unexpected gift that it brought me. The game goes like this. . .

To play, you accept the premise that anything can happen – dire things you haven’t ever entertained, even in your nightmares. But real life is like the bravery game. In it, catastrophes happen. In different times, in different ways, to different folks, suddenly the whole world is irrevocably changed,

The point of the game is to enhance your bravery. You start by asking yourself, “What’s the worst that can happen?” It’s not death. That’s for sure. There are things far, far worse. Try to imagine a real answer to that question, an answer that touches on your own pet nightmare scenario. “What’s the worst that can happen?”,

So I’ll tell you mine: It’s having the same nightmare happen to everyone at once. In it, everything and everyone you know is damaged or destroyed, but you’re still standing. Some “anything” you never expected to happen happened. (Good things happen, too, of course, all the time. As I sometime remind myself, you do have to hold open the possibility that things could turn out just fine. But that’s another story that requires a different kind of courage. What we’re talking about here is the bravery it takes to face the worst.)

The next step in this game, this process, is to ask yourself, “In the face of this stunning situation, what can I do? Who do I want to be?”

Then you do it and be it. Except you have to answer both questions first. Deciding what you can do and what kind of person you want to be, calls for choices. Look at the possibilities and pick the one that works for you. Then act the part, and keep on acting until you become who you chose to be.

As for the nightmare scenario, yours is whatever it is. The point is to face it, and decide how you will respond. Then, whatever befalls you, you’ll already know who you’re going to be, how you’re going to manage it, what attitudes and inner resources you’re going to take along. It makes you feel strong.

But it does something else, too. Something unexpected.

At least that was my experience with it today. I was driving along on a perfect late spring day, the air fresh after a morning rain and everything sparkling. The sunlight was just low enough to take on that golden not-yet-sunset sheen and was spilling long purple shadows over everything.

I was casually noticing how pretty it was, when all of a sudden I happened to notice my eyes blink. It was just a routine, automatic, eye-wetting blink, nothing special. But as I noticed it, an inner voice said, “That quickly, it can change.”

Having played the nightmare game, instead of feeling fear, I became fully alert and gave the scene my full attention. No danger was in view. Instead, the world before me was fully alive and unspeakably beautiful. And I realized that’s the case wherever we are, all the time. When you’re not afraid of unexpected change, when you already know how to respond, you’re free to see the world’s wonders. 

That face before you. That familiar scene. This particular moment in time. No matter what stories you’ve built around them, imagine them suddenly demolished. Snap! In the blink of an eye. See? See how priceless they become to you? See all that they represent? Appreciate them. Wrap yourself in gratitude for the experiences they give. Because we can hold on to nothing but what our hearts and souls contain.

Besides, what’s so new about change, whether we experience it as sudden or not? Everything is changing, everything and everyone, right this very now. (It’s a big place, now. Big enough, they say, to hold everything that anyone anywhere ever imagines and more.)

If it feels like we’re all subject to some imminent cosmic convergence of events, that’s because we are. Don’t be afraid. That’s what things do here in this world. They come together and dance apart. It’s like living inside a kaleidoscope. Everything changes, all the time. Everything is in motion.

But here’s the cool thing. We have a say in the way we’ll experience and respond to change. We get to decide what we will do and who we are choosing to be. And knowing that can produce some powerful results.

I think it was Deepak Chopra who said our thoughts are like bait we toss into the cosmic soup [where infinite possibilities exist]. What you’ll reel in depends, to a great extent, on the kind of bait you toss out. I say throw some shining, wiggling hopes out here. Your best and brightest ones. And believe that the guy who’s holding the pole (That’s you.) knows exactly what he’ll do with whatever he reels in. Because he knows that anything can happen. In the blink of an eye. And he’s not afraid.

Wishing you a week in which you cannot be fazed. Forward, my brave friends!

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by RENE RAUSCHENBERGER from Pixabay}

This past Memorial Day found me thinking about a beloved old friend of mine. He returned from Viet Nam with a heart full of pain, developed paranoid schizophrenia, and ended up hanging himself one cold, winter day.

All wars are tragic, taking their toll on our hearts and minds long after they have past. That, I believe, is the ultimate meaning of the day set aside to remember those who lives were lost in battles. It’s a message to us to keep trying, regardless of our history or the odds, to find better ways to solve our differences.

Synchronistically, last week I happened also happened across Eben Alexander’s book Proof of Heaven: A Neurosurgeon’s Journey into the Afterlife. If you have heard that near-death experiences are nothing more than illusion created by a dying brain, Dr. Alexander’s vivid description of his own near-death will seriously challenge your assumptions. Until he experienced it himself, he, too, was wholly skeptical about the reality of life after death.

Like most who have had a near-death experience, he struggles to find words to describe his own experience of what he says is so profoundly rich and beautiful that it cannot be put into the narrow framework of human language.

It’s a fascinating read. And I found comfort in it as I thought about loved ones who have died.

Anyway, I remembered my old friend, his extraordinary personality and brilliant mind – the one that I was privileged to see and know beneath his mental illness and his pain. I smiled inside, feeling that he somehow got the greeting my heart sent him and returned his own beams of love.

He was pretty convinced that the world was a dark and confusing place when he died, seeing it as being awash in danger and evil. As I read the daily headlines, I can understand how easy it might be to see things that way, and to lose hope, to lose sight of how fully goodness outweighs the evil in the world. Dr. Alexander says that evil exists so that we may experience free will and learn to use it wisely.

Yesterday, while I was driving through the countryside collecting photos, I drove through this tiny farm town, a village with a population under 400. To my surprise and delight, down the other lane of the highway that cut through the town came a parade! A color guard of four young teens led it, marching proudly in their Scouting uniforms, perfectly in step, solemnly bearing their flags. Next was a big tractor, driven by an old guy in a straw cowboy hat, pulling a float with a sign that proclaimed its occupant the Grand Marshall. He was even older than the man driving the tractor, grinning broadly and waving at the people who lined the highway. The Potato Queen rode the next float. And then there was the fire truck and a polished antique car and cheerleaders from the local high school. That was about the whole parade, and it looked like most of the village’s population had come out to cheer it.

I thought about how fairs and festivals and parades will be happening all over the planet as people celebrate the coming summer or, in the southern hemisphere, winter’s advent. Community still thrives.

I thought about all the young people graduating from high schools and universities this week, about all the young minds that are preparing themselves to be doctors and astronomers and teachers and artists, to explore the intricacies of math and science and the beauties of language and culture and the arts.

I thought about all the sports teams that play in the local fields, and all that kids will learn from participating in them about how to handle victory and defeat, about disciple and teamwork and striving to be your best. And that made me remember a video I saw this week about a brave young woman who became a champion gymnast even though she has no legs.

Yes, our world has its evils; but it is far richer in things that are good. And that’s true of each of our individual lives, too. We all have our crabby streaks, our shadow sides, and failings. But we learn from our unwise choices and keep reaching to be better, and stronger, and kinder, and to love more.

And in the end, it’s the plus side that will win out, no matter how dark things may sometimes appear.

Wishing you a week rich with awareness of life’s balance and beauty.

Warmly,
Susan

A friend of mine had been struggling with some physical challenges for a couple weeks. One day, she got a card in the mail from a woman who missed seeing her in their usual meeting places. “You are stronger than anything life can bring,” the card said. My friend smiled broadly as she repeated the words again. They were, she told me, exactly what she needed to hear.

I don’t know about you, but I think that’s a powerful story. It’s so simple and unassuming. And it has such heart at its heart.

That’s really what we all want, after all. More heart in our days. We just want to care about each other and to know that we’re cared about, too. We just want to be neighbors, with greetings to exchange and a hand to lend when its needed. We just want to give, and to be met with, simple honesty and good will.

That almost sounds like a description of a fantasy world, doesn’t it? A tale from some alternative universe. And that’s a shame. And how we ache for it to be our reality!

I confess that I sometimes despair that we’ll ever get there. Some days, when I look around at the world’s current events, I think I must have died and landed in hell.

Then I go out and feed the birds and look at the sky. Maybe I connect with a friend. Maybe I hear a story that makes me laugh. Maybe I just happen to notice the way the sunlight falls across the lawn. Somehow, something happens that invites me to shift my awareness, to allow my sense of appreciation kick in. And bit by bit I’m learning how delicious it is to accept that invitation.

It’s not that I relinquish my knowledge of the world’s problems. I simply allow my images of them to broaden to encompass the aspects of the world, and of humanity, that are positive, and beautiful and strong.

I visit a wide variety of places on the internet over the course of a week. Several of them are live shows with viewers chatting on the side, or videos that allow viewers to post comments. They let me see a wide range of attitudes and thought and cultural shaping. It fascinates me. Over the last little while, maybe six months or so, I’ve begun to notice a new idea take hold and begin to grow. In a variety of ways, I hear people from different camps and tribes starting to say that they’re done with pointing out and fighting against the things that are wrong. Instead, they’re going to put their energy into thinking about how things could be, and to live their own lives with those things in mind as their guides. I smile every time I see someone say that’s their new plan. I think it’s the best one going.

One day a woman who lived as she wanted people to live sent a word of encouragement to a friend she missed seeing. “You are stronger than anything life can bring,” the card said.

Isn’t that a wonderful story?

Oh, and always remember those words from George Elliot, “It’s never too late to become who you always wanted to be.”

Have a fabulous week.

Warmly,
Susan

^{Background Image by Beverly Buckley from Pixabay}