Missing Miss Kitty
Think of Amanda Blake’s role at the saloon on Gunsmoke – pretty, kind, firm
and no-nonsense: that’s Miss Kitty.
She went out to play Thursday afternoon, and didn’t come home that night. Or Friday, or Saturday. Nor Sunday or Monday. I put notices on the neighborhood message boards, asked friends to hold the vision of her return, and tried not to fret. Cats do these things, sometimes.
There were moments of imagining the worst, then of knowing she was fine. Moments of intense longing, and wishing.
Finally, she came bolting in, mewling loudly, demanding food and water. I filled her bowls, and waited for her to tell me about her five-day adventure. But noooooo. No explanation. No apology.
I tried to be at least a little ticked at her, but wasn’t able to. My friend Christina said of four-leggeds: “ . . . they know not the ultimate depths of how they touch us… which may be part of the charm they hold.”
Dictionaries say joy is “great happiness,” which I think of as a big emotion. But what I love most is her rubbing up against my ankle, or nestling against my side or my neck on the sofa. Sliding under the covers to curl up in the crook of my knee or at my feet as I sleep. Her purr after she dines or when I scratch her neck. My elation at her homecoming was somewhat short-lived, yielding quickly to the simple pleasure of her presence, her company, her touch. Is there something smaller than “great happiness” but equally as grand? As important?
I don’t know what it’s called, but every day Miss Kitty brings me sustainable, consistent, unadulterated joy. I’m glad and grateful that she’s home, and I think she feels the same way. She’s been stuck to me like Velcro ever since.
Purrrrrrrrrrrr. Purrrrrrrrrrrr.
Carpe diem
Rebecca
Pushing Through Uncomfortable to Greater Joy
The other night I went to what I call “Jersey Yoga.” It’s a bit of a tough class, but I love my friend, Renee, the instructor. I always walk away with something valuable when I go. Unlike me, Renee is extremely flexible and a teacher at heart, so teaching yoga comes easy for her, and I can tell it brings her happiness.
She started class with her thoughts about doing things that don’t come naturally. Renee talked the guitar she’s always wanted to play has carried around with her for the past 10 years. The part that made her uncomfortable was the upstroke – it was awkward for her and made want to stop trying. But Renee kept at it because she did want to learn. Recently she made a small adjustment to how she was holding the guitar that allowed the upstroke to flow comfortably and create the nice sound it was supposed to. Pressing on led to a small breakthrough that gave her great joy on her musical journey.
She shared that story with us and challenged us to be self-teachers during the class, doing things that might be uncomfortable for the possibility of that joyful breakthrough. During the class, I made small adjustments, experimenting and discovering how this old stiff body could do more. What was even cooler was watching these 2 guys practice forearm stands, and making the changes that allowed them to actually do it for the first time. I could tell they had a big sense of accomplishment.
If you keep doing what comes naturally, you will certainly find happiness, but if you can push through something uncomfortable, you may find a deeper joy to experience.
- Bernadette Peters, Natural Marketing Services
WWDLD?
In April of this year, I purchased tickets to see the Dalai Lama speak on happiness at Emory University. I bought tickets for the whole family knowing that with two college-aged kids and a husband who travels, the odds of everyone being available on a Sunday in October were a bit slim. It was an exciting day when I received the tickets in the mail. I have seen His Holiness speak once myself and knew it could be a transformative experience for the entire family. I posted the tickets on my bulletin board in my kitchen with Dalai Lama written in capital letters across the delivery envelope. It was a proclamation of excitement. Hooray! We’re going! What I didn’t do was write the date on the outside of the envelope. I didn’t even put it my calendar, the date was so firmly planted in my head. As it turns out I had memorized the wrong date. The wrong date! On Monday, I pulled the tickets down to admire them and text my far-flung family a reminder of our exciting weekend ahead. That was the moment that I realized I was a week off. He had spoken the day before. We missed it. The first thing I did was burst into tears. This wasn’t the Rolling Stones we had missed. It was perhaps the experience of a lifetime. I was so deeply saddened for my family. I was so frustrated with myself. But, of course, I had to breathe deeply. The irony of me crying over missing a lecture on happiness was not lost on me in that moment. I had to ask myself, “What would Dalai Lama do?” In an interview on the Today Show he once talked about how there really are no problems in the world for us to worry about. He said something like, “If you can do something to fix it, there is no problem. If you cannot do something to fix it, there is no problem!” And then he chuckled in that sweet Dalai Lama way. I’m not chuckling yet, but I’m trying.
He was that guy.
This was the guy that volunteered to help families in Africa, taught autistic children, cheerfully did dishes and stirred the soup when he was over for dinner. He was naturally polite, kind and funny. I used to joke that he was so wonderful that when he smiled we had to protect our eyes from the sparkling reflection. We knew something fun was going to happen when he bounded through the door. He organized the night that a bunch of kids, including my daughter, slept in a car piled on top of each other like puppies waiting for the annual REI sale to begin. They stocked up on the gear they needed to go out there and experience nature at its finest.
Once, when she was describing him to me my daughter said, “Mom, he was “that” guy for me.” He was the guy who showed her what it was like to be in a truly safe relationship. He held her hand gently, opened her car door, brushed the hair from her eyes and looked at her with such kindness and respect that I will always be grateful to him as a mother. He set the bar high.
In April, he passed away in a rock climbing accident. It is months later and we are still trying to make sense of it. He had a beautiful relationship with God and this comforts us all.
He embraced life with a ridiculous amount of enthusiasm and joy. The life he lived reminds me to be present and enjoy the simple stuff. I appreciate the opportunity to laugh loud, sing badly and contemplate the clouds in the sky. My daughter, who is slowly healing, feels the same way. She has made changes in her life so that she is really doing what she loves most and not wasting a single second. She has said that she wants to live her life in a way that will make him proud. Once again, I am grateful.
Thank you, Josh. We miss you very much.
Riding through discomfort
Most of us want to go in the direction of what we have envisioned, what we want for our lives. Most of us want to be happy, successful, and healthy. When we end up going where we don’t want to go, we assume something is wrong or someone made us take a wrong turn. Does that mean we are robbed of our joy? Does joy disappear when things seem “wrong”?
What if nothing’s wrong? What if joy is still breathing underneath, but life is designed to give us a few challenges so that we learn to navigate reality as the continuum of ebb and flow? What if it just takes something major to wake us up, to shake us up so we see how we were blocked from letting joy work for us?
It’s a humbling experience when we can climb out of the bottom of the hole, sit on the periphery and gaze over the big picture. By the same token, it can soothe our ruffled feathers and remind us that there is so much more going on in our galaxy than the issue with this person at work or that person at home. It’s then we can understand that our joy is still very much alive, using our daily experiences and challenges to expand. This awareness keeps makes us larger than our minds and lightens things up.
Can we see discomfort as a gift offering growth and something better? Bearing witness to that discomfort and how we respond (or react) can impede joy or welcome it in. Joy is out there regardless of whether or not we let it in. During the discomfort, we can trust that there is an ebb and flow to lead us to the other side. And on the other side, we will evolve and grow with more courage – because we held onto trust.
Joy Comes in Different Packages
Have you ever seen someone who looks really happy? You know the type of person you want to be around because they are fun and exciting and you want their energy ALL over you. Maybe you even hope that one day you can have as much joy as that person. Wow, what would it take to be that happy?
First of all, most likely that person is that happy because they choose to be. It’s not because life is better for them then it is for you. It’s just a decision they made to bring out the joy in their experiences.
Second of all, not all people who have joy, wear it on their sleeves. Some have a very subdued joy. The type where life is good, and yet, they don’t need to be so overt about it. Somehow though you can sense that they have it anyway. Sort of like the difference between those who flash their money when they are rich and those who have money but are very discreet about it. You can tell they have a certain dignity and maturity about their wealth. Well the same goes for joy. Neither are right or wrong. Just different ways to display the same thing.
Having a subdued level of joy can be more rewarding for some, especially as they get older. Not having to bounce off the walls to tell the world you are happy is a nice feeling. You can harness that joy and bring it inward. Not to be stingy, but to emanate it – to be a walking demonstration of inner, pure and collective joy.
So for today, know that joy comes in different packages. We get to share ours any way that seems to fit – just make sure you share it. Because the world needs your joy.
Happy Friday
Enthusiastically,
Fran
Chop Chop
| Chop chop (chŏp’chŏp’) |
adv. Informal
Right away; quickly.
Back when I spent my days chauffeuring willing minds to guitar, piano, soccer and ballet, I would sometimes get in a bit of a hurry to get out the door. To encourage a speedy exit by all, I would clap my hands together twice and say, “Chop, chop!” It was instinctual for me to say this peppy command combined with my mid-air hand clapping. It seemed happy. It was efficient and fun, right? While it was meant to motivate and rally, it would often stop my children right in their tracks so that they could give me their mouth-hanging-open “really?” look. They hated it. For some reason that only a therapist could unearth, this was a tough one for me to give up. I knew it was unpopular. I knew it didn’t work, and yet it would fly right out of my mouth and my hands would whip up before I could stop them. It had the same unpleasant effect, every time. I did eventually learn to let this rally cry go. My kids still tease me about it.
Still, I had the soul of a chopper. Eventually, I learned to satisfy the urge through the kinder, gentler, meditative sound of my knife hitting the chopping block when I prepared a meal for my family. I can provide nourishment instead of negativity. It’s easy for me to lose myself in the repetitive motion and the delicious aromas of fresh herbs and garden vegetables. A little music, a little wine….
I still have to resist the urge to go into “chop chop” mode. It’s not who I want to be. I know now that I can accomplish things and live a pretty fabulous life without marching in and directly the troops. In the end, the things that need to get done will get done. All is well.
Camp Dad
Four summers ago I was going through a rather difficult period. A long-term business partnership, with a dear friend of mine, was headed to lawyers’ offices and eventually court. It was expensive, it was frustrating, and it wasn’t going away any time soon.
My office is 1.5 miles from my home, and I often come home for lunch just to break up the day. After the second week of summer vacation I saw a familiar trend, my boys were lying on the couch watching Sponge Bob. The only variation seemed to be the angles to which the boys were lying. I admit, although Sponge Bob is clever, I’m not a fan.
“These boys need to go to camp,” I told my wife while I was gobbling down lunch. She said, “What camp?” “Camp Dad,” I replied. And right then and there, over a turkey sandwich, the idea of Camp Dad was born. With some serious coaching from Coach Wendy (the proprietor of this website), Camp Dad was launched.
Camp Dad is an 8-week odyssey that includes mental, spiritual and physical activities. Monday through Saturday each one of us (just boys) has to exercise at least 15 minutes, eat fruits and vegetables, get adequate rest and do some type of strength conditioning. In addition, we have to read, journal our creativity and practice good thoughts (Mom is the judge). And then of course we have Mom’s favorite, practice good hygiene.
This year marks the 5th Anniversary of Camp Dad, and I have to admit it is one of our highlights of summer. What I’ve discovered about myself (through Wendy’s help), is that I have a tendency of putting others needs before mine. But to have our goals intertwined, I have to give so that the boys receive their just rewards. See, if we all do our 8 activities for 6 days, then Sunday becomes Fun day. Fun day may include mini golf, water parks, amusement parks, etc. And it surely makes the root beer taste sweeter!
A Reason To Celebrate
I have a friend who sends me a card every year for 12 years to celebrate the day we met. I know of a parent who celebrates their child’s report card for the good grades instead of reprimanding for the less than perfect ones.
I have friends who make every Friday night ‘date night’ with their significant other to celebrate their love.
My father used to call me Elsa Maxwell (a famous party giver) because I would have a party at the drop of a hat. I remember having a ‘Play hooky from work day’ and about 40 of us went for a day cruise on a Thursday!
These celebrations create lasting memories and warm feelings. Years to come we will not remember the times we worked long hours or the times we sat and watched TV every night. We will however remember the fun times and the bonding we had with our friends and family and the special moments we created.
Holidays and Birthdays are not the only days to celebrate life. Find a reason to celebrate more and feel the fun and love that it provides. Share your celebration ideas with others so they can be inspired!
Begin by finding a reason to celebrate TODAY!
Enthusiastically,
Fran
Happiness Is Contagious
The other day I was at my neighborhood farmer’s market. A local band was playing at the market and people were gathered around to watch. I was alone, standing amidst a sea of families. A young father stood beside me with his son on his shoulders. An older woman danced beside the stage and beckoned to a small child to dance with her. Neither was an especially rhythmic dancer, but both were enjoying themselves, smiling and laughing.
The sky was gray and the the wind was bothersome, but I felt completely moved by everyone around me. I smiled a huge grin, feeling somewhat self-conscious about being alone yet immersing myself into strangers’ happy moments. But I couldn’t help it – I was affected by the small child’s joy in his dancing with the older woman. I was caught up in the excitement of the dogs and their wagging tails as they sniffed the fresh bread. It was one of those days where it felt like I was controlled by those around me. I allowed myself to live vicariously through strangers’ joy and in turn created my own joy.
I constantly make jokes about “paying it forward” when I do something nice for someone, usually followed with “Pay it forward. To me. At a later time.” While this gets the laugh I’m looking for, I don’t actually expect anything in return because it is true, that you feel joy when doing something nice for someone else. However, I feel that this is not the norm with people as a whole, and so in the same way that I am affected by other people’s joy, I am also affected by other people’s negativity, and therefore, I tend not to give people the benefit of the doubt. So when I do see something that warms my heart, it moves me to the point of being overwhelmed with emotion.
A few weeks ago I was standing at the finish line of a race waiting for my boyfriend to cross. In that time, I watched an older man run to the end of the finish line and stop just before crossing. It was there that he tagged the hand of a man in a wheelchair who then crossed the finish line. While everyone clapped and cheered for the man’s finish, I become choked up at the smiles on both men’s faces. Thank goodness it was a sunny day and I was able to hide my tears behind my sunglasses!
We are all bound to each other for many reasons, but i feel that those who truly embrace the joyful moments in their lives are the ones who are really bound together for the right reasons. I feel no guilt or awkwardness in emerging myself into other people’s joyful moments because that merely allows me to pay it forward, and not just to myself at a later time, but to those closest to me, and since happiness is contagious, it ends up coming back to me after all.
The Joy Factor
Welcome fellow Happiness Pioneers! You've come to the right place if you are looking to raise your Joy Factor. My vision is for everyone to live a life aligned with their passions and full of joy. The intention of this site is to offer you juicy nuggets that will increase your experience of joy and delight. Take a look around, grab something yummy and share the joy.
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