Category: Sunday Letters

Long, long ago, in a world far away, I began my online writing career with a now-defunct site called The Magical Mirror Machine. It was a continuation of a paper newsletter that I sent to a list of people years before. The premise of the Magical Mirror Machine is that the world reflects back to us exactly who we are.

I remembered it this week when a bout of introspection got me to thinking about the way that we often criticize in others the very shortcomings that we’re most blind to in ourselves. If we paid attention to what the Magical Mirror was showing us, we’d have a good idea where we could use a course-correction ourselves.

Try it out. The next time you catch yourself criticizing somebody, think about what you want them to be that you believe they’re not being. Then ask yourself in what ways you are guilty of the same thing.

It can take a little digging. If you’re nagging your roommate because he always leaves his socks on the floor, the Mirror probably isn’t saying that you should be neater yourself. (Although that might be the message. Are you always leaving globs of toothpaste in the bathroom sink?) Instead, the Mirror is probably seeing through your surface complaint to a deeper issue.

It could be saying, for instance, that you wish your roommate would be more appreciative of the work you do to keep your environment clean and tidy. In other words, you want more appreciation for your contributions to the household. Hmmm. And just how appreciative are you of his contributions? When’s the last time you sincerely and specifically expressed your appreciation for the things that he does?

The way the Mirror works is that what you put out, it reflects back. If you want to get back something different, try putting it out. If you want to be listened to, listen more. If you want more affection, give more of it.

But don’t forget to look at the beauty that the Mirror shows you as well. When you’re keenly interested in something, the Mirror is hinting at one of your strengths. When you’re enjoying building something, it’s reflecting your creativity. When you notice how kind people are, it’s reflecting your own kindness. When you’re laughing, it’s showing you what you enjoy.

It’s these kinds of messages, the positive ones, that will tell you what will truly enrich your life. Notice when the Mirror is reflecting your best traits, and cultivate those. Learn what makes you happy, what touches your heart, what makes you feel strong and capable and confident, and make a point of doing more of those things.

We always get farther by cultivating our strengths than by trying to fix our weaknesses. And once you recognize what your strengths truly are, you can draw on them to guide you the next time the Mirror shows you a place that needs a little polishing.

Wishing you a week where you brilliantly shine!

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by Pexels from Pixabay}

Happy New Year, my Friend!

Even though this is my first Sunday Letter of the year, I’m happy to tell you that I have no intention of telling you how to make good resolutions or how to set goals.

But I do want to share with you a practice that has been especially helpful and meaningful to me for a few years now. I think of it as a kind of guiding light that shows me the way.

What I do is take some time at the year’s start to think about a quality I most want to develop or express in my life during the coming year, and then to pick a word or brief phrase to represent it – one that will act both as my reminder and my guiding light during the coming year.

You may have heard about this practice; it’s becoming more and more popular as people discover the power of it to keep themselves focused on an ideal that has genuine meaning for them.

To give you an idea of the kinds of things people pick, here are a few words-of-the-year that I’ve seen people adopt:

Productive

Learning

Healthy

Persistent

One Thing at a Time

Why Not!

Friendship

Loving-Kindness

Sobriety

Honest

Brave

Finishing

Fun

Grateful

Creative

Forgiving

Centered

At Ease

The phrase “Why not!” was my guiding phrase for the past year and it nudged me past the boundaries of my comfort zone, inviting me to try new experiences, and to be more confident and daring. It taught me to have faith in my ability to handle the unforeseen and to be more at ease about putting myself in unfamiliar circumstances.

I’m keeping my choice of a word private this year, but I can tell you that already it has begun to impact my life and to show up in surprising, interesting, and even humorous ways.

Choosing a guide word for the year ahead has been much more powerful for me, and easier, than making ponderous, almost guaranteed-to-fail resolutions. It has flexibility to it. It allows me complete freedom in choosing how to let its influence play out in my life.

To select a word or phrase to guide you through the year, think about what would enrich you the most, or what would bring you a heightened sense of well-being or mastery or satisfaction. You can think about what aspects of your life you’ve neglected, or about the kinds of things that would give you a good stretch, or provide the greatest sense of achievement, or fulfillment, or joy to your life.

That’s the biggest clue, by the way: pick something that makes you smile inside, something that says, “Yeah! I want of more of that!”

Don’t get all tangled up in having to choose the perfect word or phrase. Sometimes you don’t nail exactly what it is you were trying for with your first effort. But stick with whatever word or phrase you do choose for a couple weeks anyway. You’ve probably come close enough, and if a more precise word or phrase comes along, you can adopt it when it announces itself to you. Nobody’s watching or keeping score.

Once you’ve chosen a word or phrase, think of a way to remember it every day – jot it on your calendar, for example, or write it on your mirror or with invisible ink on the palm of your hand. Then play with it. Let it sing or chant itself in your mind. Remind yourself of it in the morning as you begin your day. As your day ends, look where it played out in your life, the ways it influenced your attitude or your choices. See what synchronicity it brings you. Notice the ways you noticed it. Think of it as an invisible friend traveling along with you as you go about your day, nudging you when choices and opportunities come along.

Think about it. See if a particular guide word or theme is calling to you. Keep listening as you go about your day. And when you hear it, tuck it in your memory. See how it plays out in your life.

It’s a lollapalooza of a practice.

Wishing you a superb week as you begin this New Year!

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by Larissa K at pixabay.com}

“Well, here we are,” a voice inside me said, “sliding right into a brand new year.” Then it asked me, “How do you feel about that?”

It turned into a long inner conversation. I listed a bunch of emotions that rose up as I contemplated the question. Excited. Nostalgic. Wary. Hopeful. Open.

“How do you want to feel about it?” myself asked me.

“Open” appealed to me a lot. It seemed a little threatening somehow. It asked me to surrender the sense vulnerability to which I was clinging as if it was a trusted teddy bear that reassured me in the dark. But still, I really wanted to chose it above the all the other possible responses. I suppose it will take some practice, I told myself. But I had a sense it would be worth it.

So I announce to myself that I definitely choose openness. And myself says back to me, “Prove it. Say ‘Bring It On! ‘” I have to gulp first, and my voice barely comes out at first. But finally I say it, in a clear and determined voice. “Bring It On, New Year. Bring whatever you hold. And I will be open to it, and accept it with all the welcome I can muster.”

To my surprise, all of a sudden I flashed back to an image of my old friend Lori. When I drove her somewhere in my car, she would help gauge the traffic at intersections. She’d lean forward, looking to the left and right with hawk’s eyes, and when a break in the traffic appeared, she’ d shout, “Go NOW! It’s your only chance!” I laugh picturing her flashing eyes and wind-blown hair.

But hers is a phrase worth remembering. Whatever you want to do or be, now is your only chance to do or be it. Yesterday’s gone and tomorrow isn’t here yet. We can’t even be sure it’s going to come. Or that the next ten minutes will happen. So now is your only chance. Even if you don’t do well what it is that you’re hoping to do, now is your only chance to begin it, to be it. To practice it.

I like the fact that “practice” means both a habitual exercise or rehearsal and a performance. We do something over and over, by intention, with the hope of mastering it.

So I will practice openness. It’s one of those things that it’s better to do clumsily than to do not at all. And the more I practice, the better I’ll get at it.

I thought I’d mention this idea of practicing and beginning it now because even if you don’t make New Year’s Resolutions or set goals (and few of us actually do), we all end up thinking about the things we’d like to be or do differently, with more focus, more art, more efficiency, more dedication. If we decide to keep these ideals top of mind, we’ll find opportunities to practice them everywhere. Go ahead. Try it and see. Pick something you want to achieve and make a full, conscious choice to keep it in mind. Then watch what the world does in response.

I hereby give you this virtual clone of my friend Lori shouting, “Go NOW! It’s your only chance!” Close your eyes and I bet you can hear her right now. See? Cool, hey? You’re welcome.

She’ll activate whenever the world presents you with opportunities to practice your practice of being who you want to be.

Wow. Just imagine what could happen! Ready for anything? If you are, prove it. Say right out loud: “Bring It On!”

Wishing you a grand journey in the days ahead. May they be rich in all that you hold to be good, beautiful and true. Happy New Year, my friends. May you welcome each new moment and everything that it holds.

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by F. Muhammad from Pixabay}

Have I told you lately that I love you? Oh, I know yours is a face I may have never seen, or maybe haven’t seen in years. I may not know your name or really anything about you. But you keep opening my little letters every week, so I know we share some things in common—the hope and aspiration that we will remember more often to be kind, that we’ll do our best to let go of mean old stories, that we’ll keep reaching for the best in ourselves, that we’ll hold on with every ounce of determination we can muster to keep faith in mankind despite the world’s evidence that mankind is a sorry lot.

It’s heart-warming to have like-minded friends. And that’s how I think of you, sitting there on the other side of this screen, hoping for words that will bolster you and make you walk through the week feeling stronger and better and maybe even happier and more at peace somehow.

I do my best, you know, to bring you those kinds of words. I don’t always succeed. But you keep reading anyway. It makes me think that you understand that we humans have our off days. We get tired. We get stressed. We catch cold. The cat throws up on the carpet again. Somebody pushes one of our crabby buttons. Yeah, you know. And so you open my email again the next week, or return here, to my blog, and give me another chance.

I imagine that you’re that way in real life, too—willing to overlook the shortcomings, to keep looking for the good, both in others and in yourself.

Anyway, I wanted to tell you that it means a lot to me that you trust me to say something valuable. It keeps me searching for scraps of wisdom that I can share, for signs and phrases that speak to the core of us and lift us up.

As I write this, Christmas is mere hours away. I confess that over the years I’ve grown more and more inclined to hold a hardy “Bah-Humbug” attitude toward the whole holiday season. It all seems so insane sometimes, the way we get swept up in some mindless effort to buy perfection, to impress. I think of my old friend, Henry, who said if he was made King of the World, the first thing he’d do is shout, “Stop it!”

But tonight, as I write this letter to you, I’m floating on a lovely wash of peace, and I have to admit that I’m getting a kick out of it all, this Christmas thing—even the mindlessness of it. I’m thinking it’s kind of wonderful, the way that people string colored lights to brighten the darkness, and how they go out of their way to entertain family and acquaintances they don’t really even like, how they spend money they don’t have to give presents because they want to say they care even when they only want to want to care. Oh, bless us all; we try so very hard!

But then there’s the other side of it, too. There’s the side that brings separated families together in a circle of love, and that opens the way for us to be charitable to those less fortunate than ourselves, that gives us a chance to say “I love you” to people without breaking social taboos, to say “I notice you” with a simple “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Holidays.” You say that to the clerk you see every week in the store and all of a sudden you fall out of your roles and are just two people, connected, and wishing each other well. There’s the part of it that lets us truly wish for peace on earth and to imagine what we as a human family could achieve if our hearts truly were filled with good will for one another.

There’s no other time like it all year.

My wish for you is that you, too, will find yourself floating on a wash of peace—if only for a moment, for a day—and feel the beauty and joy and hope of it all wafting up from your heart.

Merry Christmas!

Warmly,
Susan

A card on my bulletin board says, “Look around you. Appreciate what you have. Nothing will be the same in a year.” I see it every day and although it doesn’t always register in my awareness, it’s truth has had its impact. Look back a year ago in your own life. See for yourself.

A quiet voice inside me says, “Collect these moments. In time they will be cherished memories, much as your memories of childhood are. They will remind you where you have traveled on your journey, the places of delight and joy, the places of darkness and sorrow, the people you’ve known and the stories you wrap around them, the way your view of life evolved as you lived it, each experience nourishing it, feeding it, how you asked it questions, and learned to hear the answers that spoke to your heart.”

The other day I heard a little group of people talking about how time feels like it’s passing more quickly. After a few speculations about it the conversation turned to whether we’re on a sphere or a disc or inside a giant spaceship. Finally, a woman ended it by rolling her eyes and proclaiming, ”Well, whatever this is we’re on, it sure has spedded up.”

Yes, hasn’t it! And it shows no sign of slowing down. Change is happening at such a rapid pace that there’s no time for adjustment. There’s only what’s in front of you, and even that’s in a state of accelerating change.

Another phrase that caught my ear recently was uttered by a space launch broadcaster as the rocket on the wall-sized screen she was facing blew up. She called it an “unexpected rapid disassembly.” It sure was! And interestingly, it rather describes the general state of life as we’ve known it as well. We’re not, I’m sure you’ve noticed, in Kansas anymore.

If you think the world is growing increasingly incomprehensible, you’re right. The familiar is melting away faster with every passing day. Everywhere, cultures have changed, cherished traditions have faded away, words and symbols no longer mean what they did. The statement, “Everything you know is wrong,” seems to grow more and more true as even the practice of science itself is not what we knew it to be. It can be easy to lose your bearings sometimes.

But here’s a secret: You can still be happy. You can still love, and forgive, and laugh. You can still be grateful that you get to experience this life, your life, with everything it holds.

That’s what the little sign on my wall taught me. I still work toward the achievements I want to attain. I still scan future possibilities as if the world will remain stable long enough to allow them. I still believe in happy endings. And sometimes I take time to look around, and to appreciate everything around me, to truly appreciate it. Because, a year from now, everything will have changed.

Look around, not only with your eyes but with your heart, and put all you see on a special shelf in your mind, in the corner that holds all your memories. Because memories matter. They will bring you strength, and comfort, and courage in the days ahead.

Wishing you a week of beautiful moments.

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by Vicki Hamilton from Pixabay}

It might not be your uncle. It might be a cousin or an in-law or a neighbor or niece. But “uncle” is as good a word as any. Whoever it is, you only see him when you have to. If you’re lucky, it’s only a couple times a year at family gatherings, for which you are exceedingly grateful.

If your luck falls another way and your ‘uncle’ constantly appears in your life, well, the best I can advise is to consider that he’s a teacher, come to show you a thing or two. That’s how it’s been in my life anyway. And for that I am grateful, as loathsome as the lessons seemed from time to time.

Uncles are like this: You think he’s a stick-in-the-mud, and he thinks you’re a bit of a kook. You kind of irritate each other. No grudges stand between you. Each of you sees that the other is likable enough to plenty of folks. Your reality bubbles just don’t jibe.

I’m telling you this because I got to see a mismatched pair of fellows like that in a live stream this last week. I actually did laugh out loud as I watched. The uncle in this case was wholly oblivious to the fact that he unfailingly missed the other man’s point. As the man stared at this uncle, dumbfounded by him and in utter frustration, you could tell that less-than-friendly thoughts were zipping through his head. Nevertheless, to his credit, he contained himself and managed a controlled tactfulness.

I laughed because it was like watching myself and my own ‘uncle.’ It’s just what we’re like.

The other reason I wanted to talk about the uncles we can’t stand is because the holidays are here and a lot of us will be running into such folks. Remember the saying I share with you from time to time: “We like each other because. We love each other anyway.”

Let yourself get a 40,000 foot view of things. See how all of us are just being human the best way we know how. It’s kind of endearing, really, in a poignant sort of way. I say we all let ourselves surrender our irritations to the morning sky and exchange them for compassion, a will to kindness, maybe even some affection and a broadened sense of humor. It’s all a matter of perspective. And we have the freedom to change ours at will. Isn’t that beautiful?

And isn’t it the perfect time of year for us to be grateful for life’s uncles? My own, by the way, has become a dear friend. And still there are days when I can hardly stand him. It’s just the way it is. I gotta love him anyway.

My thoughts are with you, dear ones. May you journey with ease and joy.

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by Prawny from Pixabay}

Last Friday, I turned the page on my wall calendar to reveal December’s photo of a young pine, its boughs heaped with snow. As if someone snuck out from behind the tree and tossed a snowball at my forehead, it hit me: Little Pine! November had been a trying month for me, and I hadn’t given a thought to his annual appearance.

If you’ve been with the High on Happiness family for a while, you know about Little Pine. He’s a tree that lives in a forest, where every year at this time, he and his forest friends prepare for a great and merry Festival to celebrate the day the sun begins it’s travels northward, beaming steadily growing light.

The story of Little Pine and the Festival of Light is told in three volumes that I wrote several years ago. Reading about Little Pine’s adventures seems to have become a holiday tradition for many of his fans. In response to requests from some of them, I republished the first volume in installments on my blog last year. And this year, I’m happy to say, I’m republishing volume two. It starts on December 1 and runs through winter’s first day, the Solstice, when the sun begins it’s return.

Only this year, it had a delay. My internet went down, and Little Pine’s readers will have a little catching up to do. If this letter is reaching you later than usual, the reason’s the same. But the frustration came with a silver lining. It gave me time to make sure Little Pine was all spiffed up and ready to go.

 opened the file and began reading. It had been a couple years since I read through the story, and frankly, the first chapter of it kind of stunned me.

As the preparations for the Festival began, Little Pine was remembering his friend Red Leaf, an oak leaf who played a part in last year’s story before he left his leaf-body behind and went Home. I had spent Thanksgiving with a family who lost a loved one recently, and the same week brought news that a friend of mine had unexpectedly passed away. I felt Little Pine’s loss.

Yet that part of the story let me think about how the holidays are a time of accentuated feelings, and that for many of us the memories of lost loved ones bring a touch of sadness, even grief. If you’re one of them, let me tell you a little story.

A woman walked into the kitchen to find her husband sobbing. He had just lost a close friend. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry you’re so sad,” she said, putting her arms around him.

“I’m not crying because I’m sad,” he said. “I’m crying because I’m happy. For the first time, I just realized how much I loved him!”

The deepest feelings we have always rise from love. Let the reality of that soothe you. Love remains.

That’s part of the message in Little Pine’s story, along with the tales of magical delight, and wonder, and joy.

I cordially invite you to see for yourself why Little Pine’s fans have asked to hear his stories, year after year. This year’s series begins right here. Who knows? It could become one of your December traditions.

May you begin this holiday season with a light and joyous heart.
And for those who are spinning in its sometimes overwhelming whirl, I wish you strength and a sense of humor.

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by Fathromi Ramdlon from Pixabay}

Every year about this time—generally when we go from Daylight to Standard time—I share with friends my conviction that humans are closely related to bears, and that in fact we should be hibernating now. “I want to burrow into my cozy cave,” I tell them, “drift into dreams, and not wake up until the strawberries are ready.”

This year, I’m more emphatic about that than ever. It’s more than the fact that daylight is rapidly shrinking away, that the world has lost its bright autumn colors. It’s more than the coming season of cold and ice and snow. This year, it’s also the fact that, world-wide, chaos is on the loose and tension seems universally sky high.

On some level, it affects us all. And coupled with inevitable pressure and stress the coming holidays bring, it can be a difficult season. It brings exaggerated emotions. For many, it creates a heightened awareness of pain, inadequacy, loneliness and loss.

As I thought about the suffering that so many are enduring, I found myself remembering a piece of wisdom from psychologist and meditation teacher Tara Brach. She pointed out that often, when we’re suffering, we feel very alone in our pain. But in fact, all across the world, countless others are feeling the same kind of suffering we are—and many are suffering even greater pain than ours. Suffering is, after all, a part of being human. At one time or another, in one form or another, it comes to us all.

The remedy she suggests is that we say to ourselves, “This is suffering. Everybody suffers. May I be kind.” It’s a powerful remedy. Recognizing that we’re suffering allows us to open ourselves to experiencing it, to letting ourselves feel it, rather than trying to cover it up or deny it or ‘power through.’ “This is suffering. I am in pain. I hurt.” When we can say that to ourselves, it lets us be authentic and gives us a kind of permission to sit with the pain, to accept it for what it is.

The next phrase, “Everybody suffers,” brings comfort. It opens our well of compassion and allows us to see that we’re united with a great body of others. We’re all in this together. And somehow, that makes bearing it easier. In a season when the ideal is to be vibrant and strong, it takes away the sting of thinking that it’s somehow ‘bad’ to be sick or upset or afraid. It’s not bad. It’s human. “Everybody suffers.”

Then Tara gives us the pathway through our suffering: “May I be kind.” May we be kind, first of all, to ourselves. May we be gentle and forgiving toward ourselves. May we look for ways to comfort and strengthen ourselves. May we nourish and hydrate and rest and move our bodies. May we remember all the good that remains and seek to see the goodness around us.

“May I be kind.” Then, may we have the grace to be kind to others, knowing that they carry burdens, too. May we be gentle and forgiving toward them. May we look for ways to comfort and support them, as well as ourselves.

In the background, songs that sing of good will and good cheer are beginning to float through the air, and despite the season’s dark side, a current of hope and expectation lies beneath it all.

Thinking about all of that made me feel much softer inside, and much more willing to go with time’s flow. In tough times, compassion is the best tool I know. May we kind. May we all be kind.

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by Hans from Pixabay}

I was thinking the other day about how each of us really does live in our own, unique Reality Bubble. It’s hardly a new thought.  But lately it’s struck me with a new clarity.   

Oh sure, there’s the world we all more or less agree on:  That’s a tree.  The sky is blue.  This is a table. Some call this layer of reality “the materium.”

But when it comes to remembering things we observed, or interpreting events, we step onto some shaky ground.   Ask any police officer who’s ever taken an accident report from eye witnesses.   Three people will give three different accounts.  We even have to watch sports replays to decide whether the officials made the right call.

And when it comes to what we believe about, say, gender, or religion, or politics, well, watch out!  The ground gets more than shaky.  It sort of resembles quicksand, where, before you know it, you’re sunk.

I took a psychology class once from a professor who had a special interest in belief systems.  He found three guys in different mental hospitals, each of whom believed he was Jesus Christ, and he had them all transferred to the same hospital and assigned to the same support group.  His hope was that their delusions would be lessened.  But instead, they began by aggressively arguing with each other about which of them was holier.   And finally each found ways to convince himself that the other two were, in one case, insane, and in the other, dead and being operated by a machine.

(The professor wrote about their encounters in a book called The Three Christs of Ypsilanti, if you’d like to read the whole story. )

The primary lesson the professor brought away from the experiment is that we strongly identify with our beliefs.  When they’re threatened, we respond defensively because it feels as if we, personally, are being attacked.   We each believe that what we believe is the true reality.  And our brains work hard to support our beliefs.  They carefully scour all incoming data and present us with the evidence that matches our beliefs, filtering out the stuff that doesn’t.     

And because people who hold beliefs that are similar to ours reinforce our identity, we tend to like them better than people whose beliefs are different.  And the more different the beliefs are, the more disturbing we find the person who holds them.

If we want to create more harmony with others, a good place to start is by recognizing that we aren’t our beliefs, and our beliefs don’t necessarily provide us with a true picture of the way things really are.  Truth, as the saying goes, is under no obligation to conform to our beliefs.

Other people aren’t their beliefs either.  But they probably feel that their beliefs are a part of their identity, just as we tend to feel that what we believe is an intimate part of who we are.

Beliefs are just thoughts, repeated so often that we assume they must be true.  Maybe they’ve been repeated to us since our early childhood.  Maybe we picked them up in school or adopted them in college because they seemed to have so much proof behind them.  And our brains have been bringing us evidence ever since to reassure us.

Sometimes, if you’re very tactful, persistent, and patient, you can provide enough evidence to someone to persuade him to accept something that you believe in place of a belief he has held to be true.   But his first response is likely to be defensive.   (And later, he may conclude that you’re either insane or dead and being operated by a machine!)

But on the whole, the most harmonious way to deal with those who hold beliefs that differ from yours is to recognize how crucial our beliefs are to our sense of being, and to respect that each of us is entitled to his or her own view of things.   

Look for the things on which you can agree, and agree to disagree on the rest.   And above all, try not to take offense when someone’s beliefs are different from your own.  If you’re really brave, try looking at things from their point of view.  Who knows?  It may turn out that you discover your own view needs some alteration.  Reality is, after all, a very complex and mysterious place.

Wishing you a week of open-mindedness and love.

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by rihaij from Pixabay}

I have a quote for you to play with this week.  This one is from American motivational speaker Denis Waitley: “Life is the movie you see through your own eyes. It makes little difference what’s happening out there. It’s how you take it that counts.”

Now here’s my question for you:  What’s the soundtrack of your movie?  And what would happen if you changed it?

You know how, when a movie starts, the soundtrack tells you a lot about the feel of the movie?  You get a sense right away whether it’s going to be suspenseful, or nostalgic, or funny.  The soundtrack sets your expectations about the kind of story that’s about to unfold.

So I ask you again:  What’s the soundtrack of your movie?  And what would happen if you changed it?

Once I was having a really frustrating time at work.  I had this co-worker who really got under my skin.  My teeth would clench the moment she walked into my office.   Her voice was one of those finger-nails-on-the-chalkboard, high-pitched whiny voices.  Even her gestures irritated me. 

I struggled for a long time trying to learn to like her, or at least to be able to endure her presence without wanting to explode.  Then one day I happened to have the radio playing quietly in the background when she walked in. Some playful little tune was on that reminded me of old-fashioned TV sitcoms, maybe an episode of “I Love Lucy,” if you’re old enough to remember that.  And that did the trick.

All of a sudden the movie I was seeing through my own eyes turned into a comedy, and my co-worker could have won the Oscar for best supporting actress.  Everything she said seemed funny.  Her voice seemed funny.  Her gestures were hilarious.  I managed not to laugh out loud, but I’m sure I smiled more brightly at her than I ever had.  And you know what?  Because I was relaxed and happy, she softened somehow and relaxed, too. 

We both saw each other in a whole new light that day, and we worked together much more easily from then on.

I remember another day when a change in my soundtrack made a difference, too.  It was the day after my mother died and I was standing on my front porch watching the sunrise, full of an aching grief over my loss.  But then, as the clouds took on color, the key of my soundtrack changed just a bit into a sweeter sound and melted my grief into a kind of peaceful acceptance, and an inner knowing that Mom would always be with me.

Music has great power to color our emotions.  There’s even some science that maps the connection between feelings and sounds.   But you don’t need to know the science to make it work for you.  Just play with it. 

When you’re in an uncomfortable or stressful situation, try imagining what the soundtrack for it is like.  Then experiment with imagining a different kind of tune. 

Comedic music can make a surprising difference in your perspective.  But play with different genres. Pay attention to the background music in movies that you watch and see how it underscores the mood of the scene.  Keep a little collection of a range of mental tapes on hand.  You can practice while you’re doing mundane things like walking or driving or shopping or cleaning, even while you’re taking a shower, and see how it changes your perspective and your mood.

Because it is your movie, as Waitley says.  And because you’re the producer, director and star of it all at once, you can change it any way you want, at any time.

Me?  I’m going for romance this week:  I plan to fall in love with life all over again.

Wishing you chart-topping hits this week, every single day.

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by Mohamed Hassan from Pixabay}