High on Happiness

Archive for April, 2010

Good pals.  Don’tcha just love ‘em?  Those buddies with whom we feel so at ease?  What a comfort they are, what a gift, with their total acceptance and no-strings-attached love.

It’s as if life, knowing the pitfalls we’d face, built in a special support system to cushion us against the inevitable blows that would come our way.

As if by magic, we draw in a pal or two, to walk by our sides.  And yeah, they’re there in the tough times and we can count on them.  But even better, they make the sparkle of the good times brighter, the laughs deeper, the fun sillier, and the ordinary blessed.

They pull the happiness up from us, amplify it, make it more tangible, give it more heft, and it all feels as natural and easy as breathing.

They see eye to eye with us.  They get who we are.  They make us feel okay about ourselves, and make being human a good and worthy thing.

If you don’t have one right now, reach out with a smile and hello to somebody with a good face. See what happens.  And remember that pals come with four legs as well as two.  If you’re already blessed with a couple good buddies, take a few minutes to connect with your appreciation for them and for the way they draw out and enhance your life.  You don’t have to say anything.  Just feel it.  Good pals know.

Among all the wildflowers that springtime brings, the tiny forget-me-not touches my heart the most.  Its name, of course, makes it impossible not to invent stories in your mind.  I imagine a little spray of them pressed between the pages of a book, holding a place in someone’s thoughts for a distant lover.

They’re so small, each blossom no bigger than a quarter inch, and so sweet and unpretentious.   I think it’s their innocence that speaks to me.  They’re such honest little flowers, tokens of a simple goodness, happy and bright.

We make our lives so complex and cluttered with our all our fevered strivings to have more, know more, be more, do more, thinking somehow that more is the key, that there’s a magic “enough” that will fill us.

Then along comes this little flower, beaming gladness as it bobs in the grass, a token from a cosmic lover, tucked in the day to remind us not to forget.  With nothing elaborate about it at all, it sings its effortless truth: just be.  Happiness flows most freely when our hearts and minds rest in simplicity, after all, without the need for pretense or show.

Perhaps we should all have a little sprig of these flowers to carry in our wallets where we would find them and silently repeat their name to ourselves – forget-me-not – as a reminder.  Just be.  You are loved.  And happiness is as simple as that.

I watch April unfold her sweet buds and breathtaking blossoms and think, “How refined is her beauty!  How subtle her charm!”

Hers is the happiness of modesty, expressing beauty without vanity, and grandeur without conceit.

Not that she is shy, or withholding.  Generosity is her lifeblood, as she births countless new forms into the world.

She fills the air with laughter, fragrance and song.  She’s exuberant and merry, tossing petals of joy everywhere.  But it is all for the happiness of giving, and none of it for her own glory.

The modesty of happiness is like that.  Heedless of self, it seeks nothing but to bestow its gifts to the world for the sheer joy of giving them.  It’s a trait you often see in great men and women, too—those who live for the joy of expression and giving, and think not that they are above others for the greatness of their contributions, but that they are blessed to be able to give.

The variety of life forms, their shapes and functions and interrelatedness;  the harmony, the artistry, the mystery of it all:  Sometimes it simply astounds me.  . .

For 300 days now, I have been collecting photographic examples of the One Song Singing.  The name comes from “Uni,” meaning one, and “Verse,” a poem, a melody, a song.  And I realize anew that no one mind can ever grasp the depth of its infinity.  It takes all of our eyes, all of our experiences, throughout all of time for us to even begin to know its infinite ways and wonders.

I am looking only at the way it shows itself in the landscape and vegetation within a few miles of my home.  Beyond, countless worlds exist, an endless panoply of beauty.  And what lies within us is more astounding still.

Here we are, arrogant little bags of protoplasm, sailing through an incomprehensible vastness on a tiny speck of dirt.  And think of this:  we know that’s what we are, and we know that we are somehow something far more, too, and inseparable from the Grand Mystery that generates and upholds it all.

And we do not know its name or whether we will ever see it face to face.  But we know that we live, and laugh, and love within its embrace.  And that is the ultimate key to its nature, and to our joy.

Happiness, lying beneath and inside all things, seeks its  joy in blossoming.

It looks at each shape that contains it and says, “This one shall be a cherry; this one shall be a song.”

It looks at you, from the core of your heart (where it lives) and taking full measure of all the strength and beauty and potential of you, it begins its outward flow.

It travels on every movement you make in harmony with your unique and precious pattern.  (Which is why it feels so good to be who you truly are.)  If you were meant to play the piccolo, happiness flows when you hear its sound, leading you in its direction.  If you will be at your best taming tigers, happiness will dance when you hone your agility and keenness and practice the mastery of fear.

Happiness blossoms as you do.  It flows through you and from you whenever you tap your potential, whenever you engage your talents or express your best strengths.  That’s how it builds beauty in the world, and excellence.  And that is why the sages tell us to listen to our own drummers and to follow our bliss.

Except, perhaps, for getting in touch with your feelings of genuine gratitude, nothing opens your heart to happiness like acts of kindness—both given and received.

There’s a magic to kindness, to selflessly reaching out to another living being with a spirit of helpfulness.  It creates warmth and expansiveness within us; it uplifts us and inspires.

It’s as if time stops for one lovely moment of connection.  “Here,” kindness says, “let me ease the way.”

Kindness acknowledges our essential relatedness.  It lets us remember, however briefly, that we are not alone, that our journey here is a shared one.

Touch someone with kindness and both you and she feel its gentle gift.  Give it away and it feels so good you want to give more.  Receive it and you want to pass it on.  And more than that, just seeing it in action is enough to move a passerby to be more kind himself.

Kindness brightens and comforts, and lightens and lifts.  It makes us feel bigger and more real.  It’s born of happiness and shares its contagion.  And every act of kindness, large or small, makes the world a more beautiful place.

That’s power.  Connect with it.  Pass it around.  Go ahead: make somebody’s day.

Somebody told me about a happiness-generating game where you pick a “best of” category each morning and then keep your eye out throughout the day for a winner -   “Most Beautiful,” “Kindest,” “Funniest,” “Most Interesting Fact,” “Best News” – and I decided to play.

Forsythia against a deep blue sky won my “Most Joyful Sight” contest today, hands down.  The sheer brightness of it sent my spirit soaring.

But here’s the really interesting thing. Although I was on the lookout for joy, I found myself noticing contenders for other “best of” categories as well.

A story my co-worker told me about a happy ending to a situation at home qualified as “Best News.”  The “Kindest Act” happened when I spotted a nurse tenderly wiping a tear from the face of an elderly woman in the lobby of our clinic.  “Funniest” was the sight of a huge, happy dog running down the street pulling his little boy, who struggled mightily to keep up at the end of the leash.

And so it went.  The game kept me so alert for goodness that my entire day turned into a celebration of its superb little moments.  I came home with a whole heap of them to enjoy when I reviewed my day.

Play along!  Pick a “best of” category yourself every day for a few days.  See what happens.  And if you’re of a mind, pop in and share what turned up for you.

The tree almost seemed to be quivering with excitement, so laden were its branches with buds, ready to burst into their grand hoorah.

When I first looked up at it and saw them, I laughed out loud with delight.  Who would have thought, mere weeks ago, when the world was sullen beneath thick skies and heaped in knee-deep snow, that such wonders as this would soon appear?  Who would have guessed then that this little tree with its thin, bare branches would erupt into such dazzling beauty?

The potential for miracles is everywhere.  Never discount it, even when the world is stark and bare and shows no sign of life or hope.  You never know what tomorrow will bring.  It could sing with untold joy.

Beneath the bleakest of appearances, happiness waits to color the world, to unfurl its potential, to paint life with its fragrance and light.  It can blossom in the most unexpected places.  It can erupt from hearts that seemed hopelessly frozen and devoid of even a hint of life.

You never know.  A little warmth, a little sunshine, a turning of the globe can work wonders.  Keep faith.  The potential for miracles is everywhere.

How fleeting and fragile are our moments of joy!  How quickly the shaft of sunlight fades, the blossom’s petals fall!

I think happiness happens that way on purpose, to keep us from taking it for granted.

A new mom came back to work today for the first time since her little boy’s birth.  She was armed, of course, with a photo album so all of us could oooooh and aaaaah at the tiny toes, the wisps of hair, the curled fingers, the wide eyes and wet mouth of him.

Another new mom, whose daughter is now nearly seven months old, looked at the infant’s pictures and struggled to hold back a tear.  How did Marina outgrow the newborn days so swiftly!  Where had they gone!  The older women laughed.  “Just wait!” they said, “Before you know it, they’ll be wearing caps and gowns!”

I savored the entire scene, this connection of hearts among mothers in the middle of a busy afternoon. Any moment now, the crisis department’s phone would ring, the shouts of a distraught patient would roar down the hall, someone would break into tears in the lobby.   Sweet happiness is so fragile; its moments so swift.

The key is to notice them as they stream by, to catch them and tuck them in your Tupperware to take home and savor over supper.

I learned again this week that when difficult times come, being grounded in the depths of happiness matters more than ever.  Sadly, that reminder came when my sweet fur-kid, Bunny-the-Cat, was killed by a car when she wandered into the road in front of my house.

Don’t misunderstand me.  I was shaken and filled with waves and waves of sadness and grief.  “Oh, my poor kitty,” my heart cried; “I am so sorry.”

There was nothing happy about it.  Except that I was free to feel the depth of my sadness, and to know that it came from having so enjoyed Bunny’s presence in my life.  My heart ached at the loss of her.  And yet I was comforted by the knowing that the cause of my pain was the love I had been privileged to feel because of this little creature’s special companionship.

Authentic happiness isn’t a feeling that blots out every pain.  It doesn’t stop you from experiencing life’s arrows and misfortunes.  It doesn’t blind you to tragedy or injustice.  But it does help you through them.  It wraps itself around you to comfort you and give you perspective and to help you understand that your grief, your pain, your railing against life’s episodes of unfairness are appropriate responses.  It allows you to sink into them, without resistance or a need to be brave or to fight against them.  It tells you that these feelings are okay.  Night is night, and nightmares are nightmares, and yet the dawn will come.

Happiness assures you of that – of the dawn’s coming – because it has proven time and again that the darkness is a transitory illusion and that in the end, light will prevail.

Somewhere down the road, happiness tells me, I will think of Bunny and instead of pain, I will laugh, remembering her antics, and I will be warmed, thinking of her sweetness, and I will appreciate anew the seasons of companionship she gave me and be glad.

But for now, happiness tells me, it’s the right thing to do, to honor your grief.  It’s a sign that you didn’t take for granted all the joy this little creature brought to your life.  And, you must remember, that you brought to hers in return.