High on Happiness

Posts Tagged ‘Wishes’

She had, she wanted us to know, heard the wishes of our hearts.

She heard the way we yearned for the beauty of the crystalline fairylands that the frost painted on our windows.  She caught our desire to be lost in the dazzle of new fallen snow.

She smiled in tenderness at our wonder over the pastel puffs of clouds that danced on the sunset sky, and at the colors of the rainbow that she had stretched across the fields.

Soon, she would be leaving.  But she could not go without giving us one final gift.

And so, with one sudden wave of her wand, just as the sun was setting, January combined all those elements that had brought us such joy into one, quick, wondrous gift.  And it transformed the land and made our hearts sing.

Whatever you have become, wherever you may be, I send you wishes, my child, on the wind.

May your days be filled with discovery and gladness.  May you walk with fine companions down smooth and sunlit roads.

May your heart be filled with hope and celebration.  May your laughter fill the skies.

May you find comfort for any pain, healing for any hurt, peace for any turmoil that may ruffle your soul.

May you continue to be playful and kind, and to brighten the spirits of all who surround you.

May you revel in adventure, and rest on sandy shores beneath a setting sun.

May beauty surround you; may goodness and truth be yours.

May you know that you will live in my heart forever, and will be forever loved.

“Peace,” the milkweed murmured to the seeds that had grown within her.  “Gratitude, appreciation, joy.”

It was a secret that she had learned from her own mother: Seeds grow stronger and more beautifully when they’re nurtured and sent forth with love.

“Enthusiasm, faith, delight,” she chanted.

She felt the morning sun warming them.  She wrapped each one in her pride and in her fervent wishes for its happiness.  The moment for their departure, she knew,  was near.

“Have courage, wisdom, and kindness, my children,” she whispered.  “Playfulness, service, learning, hope.”

She saw the distant treetops dancing in the breeze and laughed quietly at the way the little seeds were wiggling in excitement.

“Serenity, happiness, and health, my darlings,” she sang, as the breeze danced in and carried them away.  “Have fun, sweet ones,” she called as they drifted into the sunlight.  “Always, always, I love you.”

The whole purpose of dandelions, you know, is to help your best wishes come true.  You pluck one, hold it up to your face, make a wish and blow – really hard! And off fly the seeds on gossamer wings, to plant your dreams where they can flower and grow.  Who can resist it!

The same holds true, of course, for the first star you see in the nighttime sky, for shooting stars, and for birthday candles on a cake.

Wishes are big magic.  Even when you’ve long since abandoned childhood foolishness, given the chance to make a wish, you still close your eyes and conjure up the best one you can, fill it with hope and let it fly (just in case).  Don’t you?  C’mon.  I know you do.  If a genie came by with lamp . . . well, enough said.

Wishes have power.  They’re tokens of our unfulfilled desires, our dreams of what could be.  They’re openings to our secret self, pathways to our possibilities.  “If you can conceive it and believe it, you can achieve it,” said Napoleon Hill.  And it all starts with the conception, the wish, the dream.  Our wishes are pointers, whispers from ourselves about potential life directions.

What wishes are waiting inside you for recognition?  Do you pay attention when the words “I wish” sail out of your mouth?  Try noticing.  Collect your wishes; jot them down on the back page of your journal.  See what they tell you.  You just might be surprised.

So there I was, sitting at the lake watching the swan when a flash of color caught my eye.  Looking down, I thought I had wakened inside a dream.  A tiny little guy who looked something like a cross between one of Snow White’s dwarfs and a leprechaun was walking along the shore dragging this Aladdin-like lamp behind him.  It was half his size and looked really heavy.  But he was grinning ear to ear.

I rubbed my eyes.  He was quite a mish-mash of metaphors, come to life.  He looked at me and laughed and it startled me.  “Hello!” he said.

“Hello,” I answered.  “Who are you?  And what are you doing here?”

“I’m John,” he said, “and I just got my lamp.”

“Um, that would be Johnny the Genie?” I said, trying not to roll my eyes.

“Right!  Cool lamp, hey?  Want to make three wishes?”

“And if I do, will you make them come true?” I asked, thinking I must have gone over the edge.

“Well, I’m just an apprentice, of course,” he said.  “And to tell you the truth, we don’t really make the wishes come true.”

“What’s with the lamp then?  And what do you do?” I asked.  This was getting more incredulous all the time.

“Well, see,” Johnny said, setting down his lamp and plunking down cross-legged beside me, “the lamp is just a prop.  It’s like a placebo.  You believe it has power and so it does.”

“What do you do, then?” I asked.

“I whisper,” the unlikely genie said.  “As soon as you make your wishes, I turn invisible.  But I follow you everywhere and keep whispering your wishes to you.  That keeps you looking for them.  And you know—what you believe in and look for has a way of showing up.”  He giggled.

“Of course, you’re the one who really makes them happen,” he said in a low voice as if he were sharing a confidential secret.  “You listen to your hunches and prompts and whims.  Then, expecting magic, you follow them to see where they lead.  You spot the opportunities for action.  You decide to grab them.  Everybody makes their own magic, you know.  I just help them believe.

“Neat job, hey?  Like my suit?” he said.

I told him I thought the job was a fantastic gig.  “But that suit . . . Well, to be honest, you don’t look powerful to me.  I always thought genies were supposed to be big and powerful.”

“Hey!  I’m just an apprentice, I told you.  This is my first lamp.  I start with the little wishes.  You know, things like ‘I wish I could get myself to exercise today,’ or ‘I wish the kitchen were cleaned up,’ or ‘I wish I could be more cheerful.’  Stuff like that.  I help people practice doing the little magic, and both of us learn—the person who makes the wishes and me.  And we both get better at it as we go along.  We graduate to bigger things.”

“I think I’m beginning to get it,” I told him, after thinking for a few minutes about what he had said.  “I could get up tomorrow morning, make three smallish wishes for my day, and then watch myself choose to make them come true.  Right?”

“Well, sure!  That’s how it works.  I just make it more fun.  People forget their magic is supposed to be fun.  Remember that, and you don’t even need me at all.  Give it a try.  See how it works for you for a couple weeks or so.  Make three wishes in the morning and believe you can get them to come true.  See what happens.  I’ll find you later down the road, see how you’re doing.”

“Okay,”  I said, “Why not?”

“Great!  Good luck to you!” he said, giggling.  “I gotta go now.  Lots of wishes are waiting to come true out there.  And I can’t wait to help it happen.”

“Good luck to you, too, Johnny.  I think you’re going to be a fabulous genie.”

And hardly had I finished my sentence than—Poof!—he was gone.

From across the lake, I thought I heard the swan laughing.