High on Happiness

Archive for the ‘The Feeling of Happiness’ Category

Who dreamed these up? Some finger-painting cherub?  Who, sitting in some sunny corner of heaven, decided to fashion these tiny ruffled flowers?

What made her chose this sweet yellow, the pods of white and red that would open to disclose them?  How did she think to tuck them between green, leathery leaves and then paint their undersides red, just for fun?

She must have had rainbows for breakfast, I think, to give us these frolicking bells.

This precious ever-changing now, with its perfumed blossoms and clear blue skies, imprints itself on my soul, folds into all the moments that have gone before and that will come after.

I breathe its beauty and hear its song, and something in me wants to hold it forever.

But it is as wide as infinity and the now that follows it is the same.  And all I can do is flow in the ecstasy of its dance.

This is the moment for which she came, the one that had danced in her dreams, the dreams that had pulled her through.

This was the reason that she had endured the darkness, the long wait, the silence.  This was why she had held on through the freezing rain, through onslaught of late winter snow.

This moment.

Now, here, on a mid-March morning, she opened her perfect self to sun, to the warmth of the song-filled air.  And all her dreams were fulfilled.  And gladness rushed through her veins and burst forth in thanksgiving and joy.

Now the tulips come, bursting through the soil, leaping like dolphins into the light, their leather leaves curled around the  tender treasures within their folds.

I run a fingertip over the cool skin of the largest one, marveling at its colors, and feel the electric joy of its song shooting up to my brain.  It erupts from my mouth as laughter.

Imagine coming into the world with nothing but an urge to unfold.  Imagine wanting nothing but to spread yourself before the sky.

And to think that they have no idea at all how beautiful they are, how powerfully they touch our lives!

Dance to the day in gladness.  Let your arms fly in the wide sky, and your feet tap down the sidewalks and hallways in celebration.

Let your heart sing your joy for all the gifts given: for senses awake to the wonders, for the oceans of love coursing through you and splashing on every bright shore.

Hear the grand song of being; let it sweep you through the hours.  Breathe its melodies.  Flow with its rhythms.  Abandon yourself to its passion and grace.

It sings for you.  It calls your name.

So dance, and be glad.

Love ties the hearts of friends together across all bounds of time and space.   Inside each, it places a tiny chime that so harmonizes with the other that the two make a special chord that sings their friendship throughout the ages.

Sometimes they walk together.  Sometimes their paths diverge.  But each always holds a welcome for the other, and a depth of understanding that needs no words, for they are wed to the same shared tone, and it sings itself forever within them.

It’s a tone that contains all forgiveness and that sparkles with abiding affection.  It’s a tone of laughter and joy that’s larger than the sky.

And I hear it when I think of you.  And it sounds like home.

Snow has been falling for hours, reducing the landscape to a study of forms penciled on soft paper by a master’s hand.

Each line is drawn with perfection—the filigree of branches, the voluptuous curves of hills and fields, the sinuous snaking of the black creek and all its reflections.

I walk through its silence, my boots kicking up the shimmering powder, the starflakes melting on my face.  I’m in an unfamiliar world, beautiful, stark and shimmering, even in the sun-hidden light.  Yet something in me longs for color.

How amazing, then, as if in answer to my soul, just around a bend, a russet tree appears, and brush with matching hues, singing to my heart.

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These are love notes, you know, these seed pods, these fields and creek banks kissed with newly fallen snow.

I tromp about with booted feet to gather them, joy pumping through my veins and warming me.  I am giddy, like a child set loose and free.

“Oh, look!  Look!” I sing to the sky as I find them.

I drop them here to delight you, and to share my own delight.

These are love songs from the Great Yes, meant for your heart, for your eyes, that you may be glad.

And I am so privileged to have this postman’s duty.

The heavens loose the heart choirs and the song of love sweeps in, gliding across earth’s skies like the wings of angels.

It rides the winds and plays through the boughs of the trees.  It skims along roadways and fields, and into all the cities and towns, swooping through doorways and windows.  There’s no holding it back.

It’s come to make its home in you, to pour itself into your mouth, to ride the air into your lungs, to drench your very cells with its sweetness and its power.

Shhhh.  Just listen. Breathe it out.  Breathe it in.  Be the song, wordless and singing.

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Giggle, wiggle, wink, jig.  Holler, whistle, toot.

It’s not the how that matters, it’s the getting in the game.

It’s finding a little minute for a tickle now and then, for tapping and clapping and slip-sliding away.

The power of perspective is hidden (whoot-whoot!) in play.

Bam! You’re a kid again with a wide open mind, where all the magic is free to roll in (giggling) and grab you (tickling) and where every circumstance is your rabbit-in-a-hat ally just waiting for a wave of your wand.