High on Happiness

Archive for June, 2010

They’re making us a sunshine sandwich this weekend: one slice of radiant sun, piled high with fresh greens and whipped clouds, between two freshly baked days of rain.

It’s a yummy treat, common in this part of the country as spring comes to a close.

We’re especially fond of the filling.  It tastes like summer, warm and spicy on our tongues.  And we’re careful not to let a morsel of it go to waste.  We inhale the bright fragrance of it.  We let its flavor roll around in our mouths for awhile.  We savor it long after the last bit of it is gone.

It’s kind of like the way you meet a slice of happiness, tucked between slabs of ordinary days and made all the brighter by its contrast with them.  You just surrender to it and let the taste of it flow through your whole being, filling you with its gladness and joy.  And when the last bit of it fades into ordinary again, you carry the feeling of it with you and it satisfies your mind and nourishes your soul.

After the intensity of the workday—a short-staffed crew, a deluge of emergent demands—I greeted the rain with a sigh of relief.

Its soft patter on the sidewalk, the plunking of its fall into rippled puddles, the splooshing sound of passing cars all seemed like music.

I felt myself easing into its gentleness, expanding into the muted colors of the afternoon.

As I drove home, my windshield wipers kept time to the radio’s music and I noticed how the traffic lights streamed their reds and greens onto the wet road.  I thought of a comment I read once by an artist named Hundertwasser about how colors took on such a glow in the rain.  It was, he said, his favorite weather.

We don’t often think of rain as a cause for joy.  But this afternoon, I understood how Hundertwasser could feel the way he did about it.  It’s all in how you look at things, and what you want to find.

I wanted peace and release, and that’s exactly what the rain brought me.  As I stepped from the car in my driveway, I came face to face with a low branch of pine, its needles shimmering with raindrops that looked like pearls just plucked from the sea.   I stood for a moment, taking it all in, filled with the glow of serenity and quiet joy.

It’s all so beautiful, I thought, so perfect.

And so it is.

Have you ever felt that something you needed to hear was calling to you from your bookshelf?  It’s a fairly common experience, and it happened to me tonight.

I was feeling vaguely restless, as if there were something I should be doing that I couldn’t name, or something I was looking for, but couldn’t figure out what.

Finally, just to shake off the feeling, I decided I would see if I could get any clues by looking through my books for some bit of inspiration.  I let my eyes drift over a shelf full of titles until one book seemed to stand out, as if it wanted me to notice it.

I picked it up, opened it “randomly,” let my finger go to a place on the open page and found this excellent piece of advice:

“Go directly to joy.  Do exactly what you enjoy right now.  No preparation, no goal, no specific purpose, just do what you enjoy.  RIGHT NOW.”  (That’s from a little volume by Gregory James called The Way Home: Release Limiting Beliefs and Uncover the Real You.)

So I played with a group of photos I had recently taken and got lost in a world of beauty.

What’s your intuition telling you to do?  Maybe it wants you to follow the same advice that worked for me so well tonight: Whatever you enjoy, do it right now.

Why not?

Somewhere in a back corner of your mind it’s good to keep a little bag of favorite distractions you can draw from when life pulls you down.  Toss into it random scraps of things you enjoy.

Think of places that soothe you and draw your interest —a library you like to visit, a street lined with shops whose windows hold treasures and delights, or where the architecture fascinates you.  A park, a garden, a meadow, a beach.

Think of activities that engage you—hobbies and pastimes, games, sports, arts.

Think of people who make you laugh or who tell amazing stories.  A kid maybe, a neighbor, a pal.

Toss ‘em all in your bag.  Then, when you find some dark train of thought has gained traction in your mind, you’ll have ways to dis-tract it right at hand.

Happy distractions are like mini-vacations for the mind.  They bring you little pleasures and healing.  They offer you nibbles of light and joy.  They take you away for awhile so you can remember a bigger you.  You’re refreshed and renewed when you come back to tackling your problem.  And sometimes when you come back, you find the problem has simply gone away.

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I have to admit it; I love weeds.  Without any help from human hands, they do pretty doggone well.  And personally, I confess that when I watch them grow, I think they have more fun than their cultivated cousins.

They seem freer somehow, more unconstrained.  And let’s face it; they’re definitely hardier.

I think when nobody’s around they laugh.  I think they just plain like what they are, that they don’t take themselves too seriously.

They grow lightly, with no silly need to be something special.  They just pop out their leaves and buds according to whatever pattern nature provides, schmoozing with their neighbors, making the best of whatever resources happen to be at hand.

And somehow it all turns out beautifully.

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It’s all a matter of just because, this waking into glad.  You can make up any reason you want.  Or none at all.

Because I can.
Because it’s there.
Because I always dreamed I would someday.

Because I like the taste of it.
Because it beats sad hands down.
Because it will drive them crazy.
Because I thought it would look good one me.
Because I like its colors.

Because it’s raining.
Because there’s sun.

Because it seemed like a good thing to do.
Because you love me and I love you.
Just because.

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Grab yourself a mind canoe and drift down the quiet stream.  Let the winds and waves dance elsewhere; this hour is for you.

This is the hour when contentment reigns, when the garish colors of the day melt into mere reflections that float on the surface of the deep and flowing now.  This is the place where all that surrounds you is wealth and a profusion of serenity, and you are one with it and whole.

Round the bends smoothly; let the stream carry you where it may.  Watch thoughts glimmer past like small fishes darting through the fronds; you have no need to catch them or to hold them in your hand.

Breathe in the cool air, perfumed with the fragrance of pure being; breathe out, adding your own essence to the perfume.  And just glide, glide, easily glide on the calm and endlessly flowing stream.

Scenes drift past.  They do not hold you, for you have become one with the stream, with its liquid hymn of harmony and its smooth, smoothing flow.  And you glide and glide, and easily glide.

And when you are refreshed, you gently steer your mind to shore.  Then, stepping from the stream, you follow the patches of sunlight back to the place from which you began, and you find it newly drenched with peace and whispering yes.

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The very same infinite intelligence, the one that spangled the sky with stars, the one whose loving joy designed all of Earth’s glad flowers . . .

That very same intelligence that spans all time and fills all space, that knows all the whys and the math of things . . .

The one that laughs in the sunrise, and sings through the throats of birds when night falls, that plays with galaxies and thought up kangaroos . . .

That intelligence, that living, loving intelligence, who paints with beauty and truth and power, who knows the smallest detail of things from the inside out . . .

Created you, and me.  Just to express its joy.  Imagine!  And give thanks.

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It’s been a week of transitions for me, of milestones reached and new beginnings.  I launched Positive-Living-Now.com on Sunday, of course, and yesterday marked my 300th post here at High on Happiness.

If you have been visiting here awhile, you know about my photo project, “Vision 365.”  Almost a year ago, I challenged myself to see if I could take and post one photo a day for a year that captured the joy of the One Song (Uni-Verse) Singing.  And it dawned on me this week that I’m only 18 days away from completing it.

I never committed myself to a goal before that required action every day for a year.  I told myself going in that I would need to be out in the rain and the cold, that days would come when the last thing I felt like doing was to seek out a publishable photo.  And I was right.  The year did have its share of days when I headed out for a photo shoot motivated far more by sheer stubbornness than by enthusiasm.

But looking back, I can say that it was one of the most valuable experiences I’ve ever had, its rewards far outstripping the cost of a few days of discomfort.  It pushed me, and pulled me forward, and revealed the value of focus and discipline.  It stretched me and showed me my strengths.  It connected me more deeply with nature, leading me to look at it with fresh eyes every day.  It gave me stories, and metaphors and songs.

More than anything, though, it showed me that beauty is everywhere, in all seasons, freely given to all who would see.  It expresses itself through a sweeping infinity of color and form, harmonious and balanced, ever changing and always singing of joy.

I think any personally meaningful goal to which you are committed can bring you these kinds of insights.  I’ve learned so much already through my commitment to writing this blog.  Now, a new challenge unfolds as I begin to craft the pages for Positive-Living-Now, an opportunity to discover yet more ways that the One Song sings.  And how humbled and delighted I am to have you along for the ride!

Remember how, when you were a kid, you’d stretch out in the grass watching the clouds and see a whole menagerie cavorting across the sky?  Remember how the fire-breathing dragon would morph into a unicorn or bear?

Oh! The stories that could fill the sky on a summer afternoon!

Funny how it’s always the clouds that catch our gaze, and not the endless blue on which they float, isn’t it?  How we learn to see the figures and not the infinitely deep and mysterious ground behind them?

(Beyond the clouds,

Beneath the notes,

Between the breaths,

The infinitely deep

and joyous Mystery.)

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