High on Happiness

Archive for March, 2010

See?  I told you trees were happy!

Yesterday, as I drove on remote roads through some Pennsylvania State Game Lands celebrating spring’s arrival, a patch of yellow caught my eye through the trees.  When I got close enough to see what it was, I could only laugh.  What a big job it must have been for someone to paint such an enormous smiley face on that huge log!  What on earth would have inspired someone to paint it?

I run across smiley faces now in the most unlikely places, and they feel like little presents from the cosmos, or as if the universe was winking at me, telling me that I’m on the right path.  Something nudges me to turn down a particular street and there’s a smiley face, painted on a pink wall.  I follow an impulse to shoot photos in a cornfield I’m passing, and a plane draws a smiley in the sky overhead.

Time and time again, I come across the statement that once you commit to a heartfelt goal, invisible helping hands reach out to create the circumstances, conditions, ideas and connections you need to carry it forward.   Wise philosophers down through the ages have noticed the phenomenon and continue to tell about it today.

“The universe supports,” a friend of mine used to say when a piece of good fortune fell his way.   And indeed it does.  “I’m with you,” it says; “You’re not alone.  Keep on keeping on.”

The little pine grew surrounded by mighty elders whose tops brushed the sky and whose branches were homes for squirrels and birds and bugs of every description. She loved the way the wind made music in their boughs and showered their red needles at her feet.  She loved the sparkling fireflies that came in summer to dance from the ground to the stars above.

But most of all, she loved the quiet nights when the elders would whisper the fantastic tales of The World Beyond that they learned from the visiting birds.

Much of it was beyond the understanding of the little pine, and she had no way of knowing whether the stories were make-believe or real.  But they were grand stories either way, and as the seasons passed and her understanding grew, the elders were able to explain what the fables meant, and stories took on great beauty and increasing meaning.

The stories the wrens told differed somewhat from the ones the robins told, and theirs differed from the owls’ version in many details.  But one year a great eagle had built its nest in the top-most branches of an elder who dwelt high up the distant slope, and it wove the bits of the birds’ stories into one magnificent piece.  Counsels of elders had studied the eagle’s tale through the ages, and passed it down as clearly as they could to the all the trees in the forest.

Just as each tree was a distinctive expression of life, they said, with its own sap and wood, its unique pattern of bark, needles and branches, all together the pines and their leafy cousins were part of a larger community of life known as a forest.  And beyond the forest lay other beings, known as plains and mountains and deserts and seas.  And altogether, they made up a whole called a planet, and her cousin was the moon, and her husband the sun.

That was all the eagle knew for certain, from its travels.  But it believed, the elders said, that the sun and moon and planet were part of yet another whole that was part of another and so on, forever.  And its nature was joy, for the space that bound it all together was made of love so vast and deep and all pervasive, that even the tiniest ant who crawled across the pine’s needles felt its power. And every bit of it mattered and was needed to fully express love’s song.

That, the elders told the young pine, was the importance of being exactly who she was.  She was needed for the love to express exactly the note of joy that she embodied, and in all of creation, she alone could sing it.

Spring arrives with its burgeoning joy, laughing in flowers and the return of the hawk.  No matter how deep the snow, how dark long winter’s nights, spring returns.  Time after time after time.

And so it is with happiness.  Disappointments come.  And happiness returns.  Despair ensnares us.  And happiness returns.  The soul’s dark night is but a season.  And happiness returns.

I speak to you from experience.  In my life, I have lost jobs, parents, a husband, a son.  I have walked in darkness so deep that not a single star could I see, not one little glimmering of light.

But happiness returns.  Never discount its power.  The tiny crocus, with its delicate petals, rises through rock-strewn earth each spring regardless of the treachery of winter.

Be patient in your times of darkness.  Keep faith in life and in its power to rekindle the light within you.  Happiness is a mightier force than we suspect.  Winters end.  And happiness returns.

“Why am I so happy now?” Once again, I asked myself the question that launched this blog.

Surrounded as I was by the fresh beauty of this almost-spring afternoon, finding answers was easy.  Blue sky, laughing brook, the soft pink haze of growing buds on the distant trees, the glorious white branches of the sycamores—who could want more?

I was doing one of my favorite things, connecting with nature, collecting bits of this instant of time with my camera.  I was exactly where I wanted to be, doing exactly what I wanted to be doing.

Today is the three-quarter mark on my journey toward my goal: to make a nature photo every day for a year and post it online.  I wasn’t aware of that as I hunted images, though.  The satisfaction of realizing the milestone came later.

While I was taking photographs, I was totally in the flow of the activity, focused wholly on the moment, on seeing what was there before me with my practiced eye, hearing the crunch of leaves beneath my feet and the rushing of the stream and the singing of the birds.  I was feeling the gentle warmth of the sun on my face and the soft bite of the still-cool air.

Having a goal matters.  A goal gives you a sense of purpose and direction.  It keeps you focused on digging more deeply into your skill sets and strengths.  It teases you into developing your talents.  And as you see that the achievement of it is really only a matter of persistence, it motivates you to keep on keeping on.  It strengthens your will and determination.

But the journey itself is what opens the happiness valves.  The journey engages you and brings you into the present, into the only moment where you are truly alive, the only time when it is possible to take the next step.  And the next, and the next.  And each one is play, even when it is hard work.

The left side of my brain says that the tree leans over the creek the way it does due to such things as the direction of light and prevailing winds, the flow of the water, erosion and such.  But the right side imagines that it’s leaning that way to see what delights are flowing downstream and to better hear the creek’s singing.

It does look like a happy tree, after all, raising its strong limbs like that, as if I caught it in a dance.

If you began every day leaning into joy, watching to see what good things were rolling toward you down the time stream, you would be likely to dance, too.  If you set your mind to notice the pleasures and delights as they flow past—the moments of laughter and satisfaction, the chances you grabbed to exercise your best strengths, talents, and skills, the things that tickled your senses—your day would bubble with instants of happiness.

Lean into joy.  It’s a great happiness practice.  Just set your mind in the morning to watch for the good things and then let them roll.

“You can become blind by seeing each day as a similar one.  Each day is a different one, each day brings a miracle of its own.  It’s just a matter of paying attention to this miracle.” ~Paulo Coelho

I visited the lake again today.  All of a sudden the ice is gone, and the geese who were clowning on its hard surface just days ago are swimming as regally as swans through its emerald waters.  To me, it seemed a miraculous transition, so swift, so thorough.  It was as if some cosmic stagehands had built a brand new set for the next act of the grand play unfolding before me.

Miracles.  They’re more plentiful than dewdrops on the morning grass, than sparkles on the surface of a lake.  And the beautiful thing about being rooted in deep and genuine happiness is that you actually see them, and they sweep through your heart on wings of delight and awe.

You see them because when you’re anchored happiness, you see through the veil of stories that run so unceasingly through your mind.  When you’re not hypnotized by grocery lists and make-believe conversations, by agendas and reruns and plans, your mind is free to experience the ordinary miracles playing out all around you–every day.  You open to the flow of them as they pour through your senses and splash across the screen of your mind.

Nobody stays in the miracle state.  It, too, passes.  The mind mesmerizes us again, pulling us back into our dreams.  Maybe reality is too stunning to bear except in wafer-thin slices; I don’t know.  But oh!  When those glimpses come, how wondrous they are!

“Every now and then,” I tell my friends, “a moment comes along that makes all the rest of them worth it.”  And I can tell you this: the more I practice happiness, the more I learn how to let it flow, the more often those moments come, and the longer they stay.  And then happiness itself seems the miracle.

“O clap your hands, all ye nations; shout unto God with the voice of Joy.” ~Psalm 47:1

Applause!  How we love it!  A pat on the back, a word of praise, a standing ovation for a job well done stops us right in our tracks and plugs us in.

Applause is the eruption of gratitude and appreciation.  It says, “I’m delighted!  I’m jubilant!  You fill me with joy.”  It happens when our gladness flows right down to our fingertips, setting them flying in acclaim.

It bursts spontaneously from children and the old, from women and men of all cultures and climes.  Applause says, “Congratulations!” It pays tribute; it honors; it commends.

It’s as joyful to give as to receive it.  Applaud your partner five times more than you criticize and watch your relationship thrive.  Applaud your child (and the child within you) for tasks attempted or mastered and watch her beam and strive.  Applaud the day when you wake up in the morning and see how wonderfully it unfolds.  Applaud Spirit at its end, and see how peacefully you sleep.

It’s a happiness practice par excellence.  Make it a part of your day.

“Joy is a heart full and a mind purified by gratitude.” ~Marietta McCarty

One heartfelt whisper of gratitude is the most potent, balancing, empowering act you can perform to rekindle the light of joy.  It’s the reconnection of your soul with the Great Spirit that holds the stars in their courses and sustains every form of life.

Gratitude is simple thanks, an acknowledgement of all that sustains us, enriches us and brings us joy. It’s the heart’s truest expression of appreciation for life’s gracious gifts, for the wonders of being, for being itself.

It’s always appropriate, and not one syllable of it is ever lost.  It nourishes the hearts of the giver and the recipient alike.  It enlarges us and cleanses our vision.  It opens us to the flow of happiness and peace.

If you would taste more happiness in your life, begin by allowing your heart to sing its thanks.

The little elementals had been practicing for eons.  Like children at dance school, first they had to learn to hear the music and to do the steps in perfect synchronization with its rhythms and flow.  Now they had their parts down pat.

This group knew the pattern of the leaf and could hold it for an entire season.  That group did the stem.  Another did the roots.  Others did fragrance and nectar.  The senior team did the blossom.

That was the most difficult of course, the blossom, with its stamens and pistols, petals and pollen. The seniors had practiced the longest and had been together through age after age.

All of them knew they had unforeseen adventures ahead.  They would have to keep their attention on the music not only through the inevitabilities of wind and rain, the possibilities of drought and snow, but through the tickle of visiting insect feet and their licking and sucking and play.

They knew they might be plucked from the soil, or cut and dunked into water.  And still, they would have to stay attuned to the music and go on with the dance.  It was a glorious challenge and as the first vibrations of light approached, signaling that it was nearly time to begin, a tremendous thrill of excitement went through the troupe.

What an honor it was, after all, to be given the chance to be a flower!  To dance beneath starlight, to hear the great symphony playing not only for their troupe, but for the whole marvelous assemblage of birds and bugs and beasts and plants for an entire earth season.

All the centuries of study and learning, of practice and drill were worth it.  At last they would dance their joy, their glad gratitude and praise.  They got in formation now and quieted themselves, listening for the beautiful strain that would call them to the stage.

And it came, and they danced and were lovely.

The instant the snow cleared—actually half a day before—there they were, the daffodils, shooting through the soil, stretching toward the light.  They’re such eager flowers, so full of the urge to surge forward.

Everything living thing feels it, of course.  We’re all propelled forward, toward higher, richer, more complex, more fully organized versions of ourselves.  We stretch toward greater wholeness, greater degrees of self-expression.

Some perfect image of ourselves, painted by the life force itself, pulls us irresistibly forward.  We’re endlessly becoming more, endlessly growing, endlessly shedding old versions of ourselves as life unfolds through us the next phase of our ever-expanding potential.

The key to drinking in the joy of it is to let it unfold at its natural pace.  Some of us are like daffodils, eager to flower in the first days of spring.  Some of us are asters or mums, slowing building toward a late season bloom.  The life force within you knows who you are.  Allow its surging spirit to move you at the perfect pace.  When it sings you lullabies, rest and build.  When it fills you with the urge to expand, reach, grow and flower.