10 Steps to Finding Your Happy Place (and Staying There) is a program to help us develop habits to grow a joyful spirit. Many of us sabotage our happiness by habits that we might not even be aware of. Identifying and changing these habits can build a reservoir of well-being to enhance our happy times and sustain us during challenging times.
Showing posts with label Step 1-Permission. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Step 1-Permission. Show all posts
I went to lunch last week with two wonderful women. One I had known for years, and the other was new to me. As we were getting settled, our server stopped by with water. He made the perfunctory introduction and asked how we were doing. Fine, we said, in the usual response.
Then I asked him how he was doing. He lit up. “I’m in paradise,” he enthusiastically replied. We all stopped mid-menu-opening and looked up. Was he being sarcastic? I couldn’t read his face.
Our expressions must have suggested we needed further explanation, so he continued. “I’m alive and employed.” We must have looked even more doubtful about his sincerity, because he stopped pouring water and looked at us with his full attention. “I mean it,” he said simply, and moved on to other tables.
We three just looked at each other, aware that the universe had just treated us to lunch.
He who knows enough is enough will always have enough. ~Tao Te Ching
While my grandson was playing with a toy farm, I pulled some clean towels out of the dryer and started to fold them. He had other ideas.
Here is what I now know about clean towels.
You can pile them up and jump in them (at least you can if you are the size of a two year old). You can wear them like capes and run around. You can throw them on each other’s heads and play peekaboo. You can use them as blankets and pretend to go to sleep and then jump up and say good morning. You can hide little toy farm animals in them and then try to find them. You can repeat all of the above with your favorite stuffed animal.
Here is what I learned from what I now know about clean towels.
We limit things with labels. If I label this rectangular piece of cloth a towel, then it serves one function. But when I let go of that label, it can be most anything at all. When I lived overseas, those of us in the expat community realized that many of us were working at jobs that didn’t fit with how we had labeled ourselves earlier. A scientist was an author, a lawyer was a professional development consultant, a homemaker was an expert on local crafts, and a former Playboy bunny was a antiques dealer (no kidding). Those who were having the most trouble getting a job tended to be those who were the most stuck in labeling themselves.
This is especially true when we label something as a problem. I initially labeled my grandson’s towel enthusiasm as a problem because it interfered with my towel folding. When I let go of the problem label, that same enthusiasm became a delight, an opportunity, a gift.
I thought about this today when someone came to me to talk about a challenging situation with a coworker. I saw that she was labeling the situation as a problem (for which she was blaming the other person), so, remembering the towels, I expanded our discussion by dropping the problem label. Before long, she was able to see the other person’s perspective and to see the situation as an opportunity to work together with this person in a positive way. The facts did not change, but she wasn’t stuck by the label anymore and she saw the situation in a different way.
I also got to thinking about how labels divide us. In the United States, an idea initially proposed by a Republican will be ridiculed and rejected by Democrats. Yet before too long, a Democrat will propose the same idea and it will then be ridiculed and rejected by Republicans. It would be funny if it didn’t have such damaging consequences.
So many ways that labels, which can be useful in many contexts, can, in others, lock us down and lock us out. It makes my brain hurt! I’m going to go fold some rectangular pieces of cloth.
Is there a situation or a person (perhaps yourself!) that you are limiting with a label?
The nameless is the beginning of heaven and earth The named is the mother of ten thousand things
~Tao Te Ching
I felt in need of a great pilgrimage So I sat still for three days And God came to me
~Kabir
Apparently I’m harder to find than Kabir because I waited for three months. Or maybe I just enjoyed the wait. I’d like to say I’ve come back to blogworld with profound insights to share, having fully awakened into Buddhahood. Maybe there were some enlightened moments, but mostly I just savored the summer.
It has been a time of experience rather than thought, contemplation rather than reflection, action rather than reaction, waiting rather forcing.
I’ve spent glorious time at my cabin, which is, in fact, where I am right now, scribbling on a notepad as I sit on the deck, listening to the creek’s song as the sun dances on the water.
Time spent in meditation has expanded along with time practicing martial arts, which, to me, is meditation in motion.
Nana time with my grandson has also increased as I’ve stepped in to support my daughter, whose work schedule doesn’t always fit within daycare hours. (That is my little prince in the photo above, joy walking in a downtown fountain.)
And of course, there has been time in the company of friends and family, enjoying tea in the garden, walks along the river, and dinners around the picnic table.
As my blog break stretched beyond the initial month I had planned, I gave myself permission to see what unfolded. Since “wait” is my word of the year, it seemed a perfect opportunity to embrace it. One month became two, then three. Then, lo and behold, my fingers started itching to get back on the keyboard.
So now I’m back, grateful for the most wonderful summer I can remember, and looking forward to reconnecting. Perhaps you would consider sharing something of the last three months in a comment. Is there an image or phrase that describes this time for you? A defining moment? A challenge? A special memory? An opportunity to practice your word of the year?
The following verse captures my experience of the last three months:
But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.
~Isaiah 40:31
Our task must be to free ourselves... by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature and it's beauty. ~Albert Einstein
I went up to my cabin for the day yesterday. The weather was gorgeous and it seemed like a good day for a walk in the woods.
One of my favorite things about spring in the Pacific Northwest is the trillium. The blossoms dot the forest floor. When they open, the flowers are brilliant white. Then, as they mature and wilt, they gradually turn from white to lavender to deep purple.
Even though they are hardy enough to continue blooming during late snows, the plants are fragile if disturbed. If you pick the flower, the plant can take years to recover before blooming again. They are meant to be savored in place.
To me, the flowers are beautiful teachers. Here are some of their quiet lessons.
Be present. You can’t take the flowers with you, so enjoy them in the moment.
Non-attachment. Trying to grasp their beauty by picking the flowers destroys them.
Generosity. The flowers grace the forest with loveliness, freely and generously for all to see.
Gratitude. Seeing the trillium every spring fills me with gratitude for the bounty of nature’s gifts.
Delight. Walking becomes a treasure hunt for beauty, watching for the white blossoms and thrilling at each discovery.
The flowers even helped me be a better teacher! The law school where I taught is nestled in the forest on the edge of a state park. You can walk right out of the school and into the woods, along miles of trails. The lush setting of the school draws students from all over the world.
Early spring is a tough time for first year law students. They have gotten their grades from first semester, and since 90% of them are not in the top 10% of the class, there is some inevitable let down. They are also gearing up for the stressful scramble for their first summer jobs as law clerks.
One sunny spring day, I paused before starting class. The tension in the room was palpable. The normal pre-class banter was absent. The students’ faces were grim. Instead of launching into the planned discussion on anticipatory repudiation, I closed my book and instructed the students to follow me.
We went to my office where they could leave their belongings secured, and we went on a trillium hunt in the park. I figured since many of them had come to this school for the environmental law program, they should at least get out now and then to enjoy the environment! When those students graduated a few years later, they told me that one of their most memorable moments in law school was the shock of having a professor tell them to have some fun. It’s one of my fondest memories, too.
Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. ~Rachel Carson
When my son James was growing up, he was in special education because of his autism. Every year there was a meeting to develop his IEP (Individual Education Plan). This document set out his needs and what services would be provided to meet his needs for the following year. The meeting was attended by his teachers, other service providers, a representative from the school district, and me.
I generally had a very good working relationship with everyone involved. I made sure I understood the regulations so that I could justify the services I asked for. I had a genuine and deep respect for his teachers and providers. In fact, I’m still friends with several of them. I knew that they were committed to doing their best for all the children they served. I also knew that they did not have adequate funds and resources to do all that was needed.
One year, as I was walking into the room for the IEP meeting, the speech pathologist approached me. She was frowning, and huffed at me in exasperation and with an accusatory tone, “Do you know that your son gets more services than any child in Portland Public Schools?”
I looked at her for a moment, and then replied without apology, “He doesn’t get any more than what he is entitled to by law. My job is to see that he gets no less.”
I think grace is like that. I believe that our natural state is one of joy and peace and harmony. We don’t earn it or deserve it any more than James had to earn the services he got. The law provided that he was entitled to them simply by virtue of who he was. Likewise, we are entitled, as A Course in Miracles teaches, to miracles, not because of something that singles any one of us out or makes any of us more special than others, but because we are who we are, children of the universe, fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of God. Each and every one of us, equally.
The Dalai Lama speaks of having this precious life. And we do. We are precious and beloved, without exception. Love is our birthright because it is what we are made of. We exist in eternal grace. We can deny it or block it, but we can’t change it. If anyone (including yourself) suggests that we are not worthy of this blessing, we can respond with calm assurance that we claim only what we are all entitled to, nothing less.
Man loves because he is Love. He seeks Joy, for he is Joy. He thirsts for God for he is composed of God and he cannot exist without Him. ~Sathya Sai Baba
PS--Several readers have voiced some confusion in the comments about the connection I was making between my son's IEP situation and miracles or grace. I have added some further explanation of the connection I was trying to make in my responses below, especially the one to "Dangerous Linda." Please take a look if you are interested. Thank you .
The breezes at dawn have secrets to tell you; don’t go back to sleep. ~Rumi
Dawn’s first faint gleam this morning found me up and dressed with nowhere to go. I thought about going back to bed, about reading, about getting online. Instead, something drew me outside. So I put on my coat and went for a walk.
An occasional car, a jogger or dog walker here and there, a light on in a few houses. We few quietly shared the magic of the hour while most slept. The birds called the light to come. My soul thrilled.
A daffodil invited me to lean over. The fragrance of spring stirred the still chilly air. The eastern sky slowly brightened. Shades of gray blossomed into color. A new day – so pure, so fresh, so full of mystery and promise.
How can a day that begins thus not be blessed?
i thank you God for most this amazing day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything which is natural which is infinite which is yes
~e.e. cummings
Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself. –Rumi
“Arab Spring” is the term often used to describe an ongoing series of protests and wars spreading through the Arab world in the last two years. The term sounds promising and full of hope, although the conflicts themselves, regardless of the outcome, have caused a great deal of suffering.
I read that one slogan of the demonstrators has been Ash-shab yurid isqat an-nizam, "the people want to bring down the regime.” Many of us can understand this sentiment, whether in support of people seeking more freedom in other countries, or wanting change in our own country, or just change in our own lives.
If you haven’t seen this commercial, take a look. It’s only 30 seconds.
We think these guys are silly to believe that turning their labels out will affect the trajectory of the football. And yet...
People have asked me about the dedication in my book, “To Todd, who found the part that looked like me.” Here’s the story.
Years ago, I was in the emergency room with a pain in my solar plexus that I described as a 12 to the doctor who asked me to rate my pain on a scale of 1 to 10. After the initial shock of being attacked from the inside out, and after finally getting some chemically induced temporary relief, I understood intuitively that there was nothing medically wrong with me.
I write those words “understood intuitively” like intuitive understanding was a common occurrence for me. It wasn’t. I’m a lawyer by profession and by calling. For most of my life I relied on what I could understand and defend through rational analysis, on what I could “prove” based on facts. Nevertheless, lying in that emergency room, I was sure that medical tests would reveal nothing. I was right. And I knew just as surely that I was going to die if I didn’t change my life. I couldn’t explain it, but I knew it.
My naturopath suggested that I consult Todd, whom she described as an energy healer. I was desperate enough to pick up the phone and call, and too embarrassed to tell anyone that I was going to pay someone who was no doubt some sort of crackpot looney. This was all way too woowoo for me.
At one point during our session, I suddenly felt something that defies description. The best I can do is to say that I felt a whoosh, like a sudden gust of wind, but on the inside. Afterward, when I asked Todd what happened, he said that among other energy healing techniques, he had done a “soul retrieval.” When pressed, he explained that he went to a place where there were parts of souls that had been lost, found mine, and returned it to me. With rising anxiety and incredulity, I challenged, “How do you know that part was mine? What if you put someone else’s soul fragment in me?” He replied calmly and matter of fact-ly, “It looked like you.”
Well, what can you say to that?! I went on with my life, but there was a distinct and subtle shift that happened that day. True, I was doing many other things, too, to change my life. But my life did change, from one based in fear to one based in joy. Can I prove that what Todd did affected the outcome? No. But I can’t prove that it didn’t either. I came to accept that there are things that bring about greater joy and peace in our lives that I can’t explain through rational analysis.
Energy healing is way out there, I admit. But what about kindness? I can’t explain why kindness makes me happier, but it does. Forgiveness. Generosity. Smiling. Prayer. Gratitude. Meditation. Friendship. Compassion. Love. Faith. All these enrich my life and fill my (now retrieved) soul with light and joy. How marvelous. Like magic, only real.
As the commercial says, “It’s only weird if it doesn’t work.”
“Engage!” –Jean-Luc Picard, captain of the starship USS Enterprise, ordering the helmsman to engage the engines
This word “engage” has been tapping my mind lately. Interesting, since my word of the year is “wait.” Hmm.
There are lots of ways to wait. In fact, most of us spend at least a little time every day waiting. We wait at a stoplight, we wait for water to boil, we wait on hold, we wait in the doctor’s office. Everyday waiting.
In my last post on waiting, I described some situations in which waiting allowed me to think twice, and think better, before speaking or acting. That was more like pausing waiting.
So how is this word “engage” connected to “wait”? When my word came to me for this year, it didn’t come to me as cautionary word. It came to me as a deep soul call to action, a reminder that grace is not something I can demand or grab, but something that is given to me. And it is given to me when I am not distracted, but when I am alert, open, fearless...engaged.
I accept the challenge. My spiritual practice this year will be waiting, sacred waiting. I will be a warrior of waiting.
They who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint. –Isaiah 40:31
I saw this cartoon on Tess Marshall’s Facebook page recently. I immediately thought of two things.
First is the funny email that circulates every year or so about a dog’s diary and a cat’s diary. I’ll just include the dog’s diary here.
From a Dog's Diary
8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing!
10:30 am - Got rubbed and petted! My favorite thing!
12:00 pm - Lunch! My favorite thing!
1:00 pm - Played in the yard! My favorite thing!
3:00 pm - Wagged my tail! My favorite thing!
5:00 pm - Milk bones! My favorite thing!
7:00 pm - Got to play ball! My favorite thing!
8:00 pm - Wow! Watched TV with the people! My favorite thing!
11:00 pm - Sleeping on the bed! My favorite thing!
Anyone who has a dog or knows a dog will appreciate this!
The second thing I thought of was my daughter Mia. When she was little, she was the most exuberant sprite on the planet. Everything was her favorite thing. Every day she would ask me what I was making for dinner, and when I answered her, she would invariably exclaim, “That’s my favorite food!” This was true even if I was making something I was sure she had never tasted before.
Many of us were like this as kids. But somewhere along the way, we stopped embracing life. We became teenagers. When Mia and her sister were teens, they would look at each other and roll their eyes or make a face when I told them what I was making for dinner. Finally, one day, feeling especially unappreciated and a bit cranky, I responded to their inquiry about what I was making for dinner by saying, “We’re having whatever y’all are making. Please let me know when dinner is ready. I’ll be in my room.”
They thought I was kidding, but when I walked off and settled into my favorite chair with a book, they knew the jig was up. I don’t remember what we had for dinner that night, but I remember telling them how much I appreciated their cooking and how good the food was. And from then on, the kids (the guys, too) were responsible for dinner on certain nights. And we all learned, or rather re-learned, to welcome the gifts that life brings us.
Seeing this Pooh cartoon brought back sweet memories of raising my children, all the more poignant as I am learning to embrace my empty nest. Which is, I must admit, quickly becoming my favorite thing!
I can think. I can wait. I can fast. –Siddhartha, by Hermann Hesse
I’ve only had my word of the year “Wait” for a few days, and I can already tell you that waiting is not such an easy thing to do. Even so, my word has already taught me some valuable lessons.
I’ve used it while meditating to bring my attention back to quiet alertness. I’ve used it to remind myself to listen more and speak less. I’ve used it when poised to do something or say something that, after waiting a moment to take a few breaths, I thought better of.
Just this morning, I was about to call a company that recently provided some services at my house. I was irritated about something and intended to complain. Instead, I waited until after I had a cup of tea. I wrote an email to the company and rather than complain, I asked questions about what I was concerned about. The company had someone at my house within twenty minutes who looked at what I was concerned about and took care of it immediately, with assurances that they wanted me to be completely satisfied. Wow. My concerns were addressed and everybody felt much better than if I had opened the conversation with a criticism.
Of course, it’s true that I might not have gotten such a good outcome, but regardless of the company’s response, the point is that I was so much happier with the approach I took. And the approach I took was a direct result of waiting before acting on my initial impulse.
In another example, I have been thinking about a decision I need to make. It’s not urgent, but I have been pushing myself to decide just to get the issue resolved. Yesterday, I realized that waiting for more clarity will lead to a better decision. The only urgency is my own impatience. I put it aside.
As a bonus, because I had put it aside, I was able to make a more pressing decision on another matter with much more focus and confidence because my mind was not cluttered with needless distractions.
So although my initial reaction to my word was sort of a disappointed “Really?” I’ve come to see fairly quickly that I’m going to get a lot of mileage out of this humble word. Just “wait” and see.
I like words. Indeed, as a lawyer, I made my living from words. When I think of my favorite word, however, it is not a legal word. It is a word, or to be more accurate, a phrase, I learned in a college botany course. In fact, it is the only thing I retained from the course. (I was not destined to be a scientist.) Okay, here it is:
Sometimes I feel overwhelmed. My schedule gets away from me, there are too many phone calls, errands to run, things on my to do list. I’m behind on reading blogs, paperwork is piling up, I can’t remember something and I think it was important. Things start to feel like burdens instead of blessings. I feel tired and cranky. Then I know. It’s time for a pajama day.
So tomorrow I will stay in my pajamas all day. That doesn’t mean staying in bed, although I will probably laze in bed a bit later in the morning. It means a day to myself with no agenda. I give myself permission to read, watch TV, meditate longer, eat when I want to, drink my favorite tea, practice tai chi in the back yard, turn the phone off (and maybe the computer).
A day to recenter and refresh. I’m looking forward to it.
What do you do when you need to replenish your reserves?
I read recently that making your bed can make you happier. While I generally like a clean and tidy house, I have not been in the habit of making my bed. Like others have observed, why make it up when I’m just going to sleep in it again tonight? And besides, since my room is upstairs, no one sees it except me.
However, this article’s promise intrigued me, so I thought I would try it. The quilt I’ve used on my bed for years didn’t make it through the last wash cycle in one piece, so the occasion of getting a new quilt seemed like an auspicious time to experiment with making my bed.
Wow. What a difference! The one minute it takes me to smooth the sheets and blankets and straighten the quilt just when I get out of bed makes my heart smile. Everything seems right with the world. There is a noticeable lift in my mood and peace in my spirit.
And here’s the bonus. I feel happier when I go to bed, too. I like approaching my bed and pulling the covers down and slipping between the sheets. My bed is a more welcoming place, inviting me to enter a calm and orderly refuge and settle into restful slumber.
Those of you who practice this habit regularly might not appreciate the dramatic difference this simple act makes at the start of your day. I’m now a believer, and with the fanaticism characteristic of the newly converted, I want to spread the word!
Do you make your bed? If not, would you try it for a week? Let me know what happens!
The happy place that I write about is not meant to be a physical place, but rather a place of inner joy and peace. Nevertheless, there are physical locations that seem to draw us to that inner place. Many of us think about places in nature, for example, like the ocean or the mountains. But today I realized that I have happy places in my house as well.
Lately, my favorite place in the house has been my daughter’s former bedroom. After she moved into a different room, I started using the room as a writing room. A folding card table and chair were all I needed at first. Then I moved in some bookshelves. A couch and reading lamp. Once I realized that I was spending so much time in there, I moved the canary from my bedroom to the new room, so that I had pleasant company.
Today, I was sitting on the couch reading, with a cup of tea, listening to the canary sing, watching the birds on the feeder outside the window in the rhododendron bush. The window was open and a warm September breeze drifted in. I was filled with a deep sense of well-being and I realized that I almost always feel that way in this room. I love the old rug, and the soft color on the walls. When I’m in this room, my spirit smiles.
I love my home, all of it, but this room is a special place, my home version of a happy place.
When you are at home, where do you like to hang out? Do you have a special happy place at home?
Yesterday, I took my son James on our annual trek to the state fair. James likes to look at all the animals, so we walk through every barn looking at cows, sheep, goats, and pigs. There is always a sow with brand new piglets to ooh and ahh over.
After looking at the farm animals, we look at the other exhibits, have lunch, and get James’s photo taken at the old time photo place. The people at the photo place now recognize us and always give James a great time, helping him dress up like an old western gunslinger. He hams it up and gives himself a different outlaw name every year. Black James, James-y the Kid, Dirty James. Each year’s photo takes its place on his bedroom wall with the others.
This year, however, before the photo, we had a special surprise. After lunch, we noticed a small sign pointing us to an exotic animal exhibit. Tucked away in a corner of the fairgrounds was a modest exhibit with a tiger, a few other wild cats, and a baby lion. For a very reasonable fee, which went to conservation, we were able to have our picture taken with the baby lion.
While I would normally let James do this sort of thing on his own, I was too excited myself at the prospect, so we sat down side by side and held the cub in our laps. Now this cub was not tiny. He was almost four months old and was probably 35-40 pounds. Think giant kitten! He was playful and absolutely adorable. And a very good sport about getting his photo taken with a bunch of strangers.
James took it all in stride, but holding the lion was the highlight of the day for me. I woke up still thinking about it, and remembered the story of Christian the lion. If you don’t know the story, it really is wonderful. Briefly, two guys bought a lion cub at Harrod’s in London (back when you could buy exotic animals in a department store!) They raised him until he was almost grown and then managed to return him to the wild in Africa. A year later, they returned to see how he was doing. I won’t give this part away–you need to see it for yourself.
I wrote a while back that the title “The Joy Book Club” was dancing around in my head. (The title is inspired by one of my favorite books, Amy Tan’s The Joy Luck Club.) I didn’t know at the time what would come of it, but now I’m happy to share with you what is now in place.
As some of you know, I’m writing a book based on my blog. (In fact, the book will be released October 2. More on that in another post soon.) In putting together a further reading section for the book, I realized that I have been reading books about joy and happiness nonstop for over two years. I read a variety of other books, too, but there is always at least one book about joy on my night stand.
All this reading has saturated my thoughts and consciousness with a mindset of joy. I can see now that reading about joy is in and of itself a way to increase the happiness in our lives. The books I’ve read represent a range of authors and topics. Some are self help. Others are spiritual or faith based. Some are only indirectly about joy. What they all have in common is that they have helped to build and strengthen in my life joyful habits of thought, word, and action.
If reading about happiness increases our happiness, then this is something I want to share with you. My next door neighbor and friend is co-owner of a marvelous independent bookstore in our neighborhood, Broadway Books. She graciously offered me a page on the store’s website to create The Joy Book Club. On the page, you will see a list of books. You can click on any book to get a description of it. If you like, you can order the book from Broadway Books directly from the page. (Of course, you can get the books elsewhere, but what a wonderful way to support an independent bookstore!)
There are many other books that could be on this list, and I hope to add to it as we go along. But this list is a good start.
There are no requirements for belonging to this club. Just pick up one of the books and enjoy. Further down the road, we might consider other possibilities, like discussions about specific books. I welcome your ideas and suggestions!
When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. But when I became a man, I gave up childish ways. –1 Corinthians 13:11
The minister spoke this morning about childhood and adulthood, about immaturity and maturity. Was there a time, she asked, when you knew you had left childhood behind? One person said it was when he was old enough to have to buy adult tickets at the movie. Another person said it was when she moved into her first apartment and paid her own bills. Several people said that having children was the awakening of adulthood.
I thought back. When did I ever feel like a child? When my mother had headaches and sometimes fainted, I had to run for the smelling salts and revive her. Once, when my dad was out of town, Mother and I thought we heard someone in the house. I got Dad’s shotgun and walked through the house, hoping that the unloaded gun would be enough to scare the intruder away, even though I was only ten years old.
I felt the weight of adult responsibility at those times, but I still thought and reasoned like a child, and I certainly behaved in childish ways. Indeed, looking back, it’s fair to say that maturity did not coincide with adulthood in my life. Maturity came much later and is still coming.
Maturity seems like a good thing. And yet Jesus said that “unless you change and become like a child, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” So how do we give up childish ways, and at the same time become like a child? Hmm, a Christian koan.
Perhaps the answer is in the balance between taking responsibility for your life in a mature way, and maintaining an open heart, a heart full of wonder and joy and trust in the basic goodness of the universe. In that sense, I suppose I am more childlike now than when I really was a child.
As a child, I saw the world as a frightening place, threatening all kinds of bad things if I let down my guard. As I’ve gotten older, I see the beauty and the mystery that I overlooked in my childish anxiety. And I’ve come to believe in the perfection of, well, everything, even if I can’t understand it.
A child’s faith.
Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. –John 14:27
If you could be any kind of animal, what would you be?
I would be a wolf. I’ve always loved wolves. I’ve read everything I can about them. I’ve watched every documentary. I don’t know when my love for wolves started. I just know I’ve always been drawn to them.
When I was in my early 20s, I drove up through Canada to Alaska. The “highway” at that time was often a gravel road, stretching for miles and miles through the wilderness. I camped one night by a lively creek in the Yukon. As I settled into my sleeping bag, I heard wolves howling in the distance. I could barely hear them over the rushing water. I clambered out of the sleeping bag and unzipped the tent to stand in the growing darkness and listen, every nerve alert, my heart racing, their mystic song singing in my soul, calling to me.
I felt like the dog Buck in Call of the Wild, longing to go join them. I could almost see myself among them, one of them, living with them, hunting with them, howling with them. It was primal. And a bit scary.
Why wolves? I don’t know. I admire their family structure, their communal devotion to their young. They seem genuinely happy to see each other after being apart. They play. Perhaps these were qualities I yearned for when I was younger. A sense of belonging. An ancient wisdom. A joy in living.
What about you? Is there any animal that you identify with? If you like, you might look up the animal’s symbolism. I found out that wolves represent teaching, which is interesting since I have been a teacher for so much of my life. What does your animal represent to you?
[This post, by the way, was inspired by a discussion I had recently in the comment section of another blog. I would like to give credit to that blog, but now I can’t remember where it was. If you know, would you tell me? I’d be glad to add a link.]
I’m going to be away from the computer for a few days, so I thought I would invite all of you to share your favorite quotes about happiness and joy in the comments. I will publish the comments just as soon as I get back on Sunday.
I’ll start with a few of my own favorites.
There is no way to happiness. Happiness is the way. –Buddha
This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it. –Psalm 118:24
Oh, be swift to love. Make haste to be kind. –Henri Frederic Amiel
