Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Episodes of Happiness

When I wake up first thing in the morning, my first thought is to figure out what day it is.  This morning, I ran through the grey matter in my mind and figured out it was not a Saturday or Sunday.  My first thought was to be grumpy that I had to go to work.  Then I remembered I had set it up to work from home today.  I was no longer grumpy.  This was an episode of happiness.

Another episode occurred as Abbie and I walked this morning.  She ran into another sharp object this weekend and ended up getting seven stitches in her leg.  Monday morning, she quit walking halfway into the walk.  Yesterday morning, she was so woozy with the medication that we didn't even walk.  This morning, she is on the mend, running like the wind, stirring up dust in the fields.  I experienced an episode of happiness.

Yet another episode happened last night.  Ken and I decided to have fish and chips for supper.  He had caught a nice catch of bluegill on Sunday.  We ate half the batch that night.  Instead of freezing the second half, I thought we might want fish again this week.  We did.  There was a small episode of happiness. 

We set up the fry daddy in the "north kitchen," Ken's man cave.  A new NCIS episode was on TV, the chips came out perfect and the fish was melt-in-your mouth delicious.  Ken said, "Lays had nothing on my chips."  When my husband loves eating my food, I experience an episode of happiness.

I could go on and on describing more episodes of happiness; moments in time with my sisters this last weekend, satisfaction in completing tasks on my lists at home and work, etc., but it's time to get to the point. Happiness can be a state of mind.  If you make up your mind to be happy, you will be.  However, these episodes of happiness are the moments you remember.  These moments are marked with a glowing satisfaction deep in your belly that moves all the way up to your brain and puts a smile on your face.  If you  can string enough episodes together, you could actually become giddy and are indeed blessed.

Wishing you an episode of happiness today and every day.

Thursday, March 31, 2011

Death on Facebook

An interesting twist in social media is the ability to share a death experience with friends.  My friend, David, passed away around midnight central time, 10:00 pm California time.  His Face book posts started talking about migraines in January and how bad he felt.  We (his Face book friends and family) all cheered him on and followed his doctor appointments as well as his blood tests.  The doctors said he was fine.  When I talked to him in late January, he was experiencing crazy coughing fits and he told me he was dying.  He knew it even though the doctors were not finding the cause of his illness.  Our conversations have always been the deepest emotional levels and this was no exception. 

He went to the doctor again in February.  They put him in the hospital, did MRI's and cat scans.  They found six brain tumors and lung cancer.  They said he had four to six months to live.  He did a few rounds of radiation and signed up for hospice.  The last few days he has been unconscious.  Friends and family have been posting on Face book for David during this time. Friends were able to connect via face book and by calling his caregiver who would hold the phone to David's ear. 

I read the posts last night around 10:00 pm central time and I knew he would not make it through the night.  He was in my dreams and when I woke, I knew he was gone.  During my morning yoga practice, I had a sensation for a brief moment that David was with me, just passing through as his spirit made it's trip to visit all of the friends he has made.  When I got on Face book, his death was confirmed.

There are many people who were recipients of David's friendship.  I was one of the lucky ones.  David knew my soul from the very beginning and we had a friendship that was deep from the moment we met.  Even though distance has separated us, we have kept in touch - and now he is gone.  The world is a smaller, sadder place today because we have lost him on earth.

During February, David and I had a few phone conversations.  I asked him what his plans were and what his thoughts were about dying.  He had been thinking of ways he could connect with his friends from heaven.  One consideration was to turn off the hot water in people's showers.  I have no doubt that he will figure out a way.

Rest in peace David.  I love you brother.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Friendship and Gratitude

The last two weeks have been amazing.  My birthday celebration started on March 1st with the traditional monthly "rabbit rabbit" e-mail from my sister asking me if I wanted to see the musical, Wicked, as my birthday present.  As the week progressed, I had a lunch date with my other sister, nephew and mother complete with presents, a lunch date with two co-workers - more presents, cards in the mail, e-mails, facebook wishes from friends and family, and got to see my friend from Utah for the first time in six years.  My husband provided a wonderful birthday celebration on the actual evening of my birthday.

The next two weeks should be almost as wonderful. The visit with my Utah friend continues for another week, I have lunch dates planned with two other friends, and invitations to get together with facebook  friends.  I have a three day work week - instead of five.

As I watch the disaster in Japan on the news, I feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for our safe dry warm home, our dog sleeping beside me on the couch, the hot coffee in my cup, the ability to take the day off of work, and most importantly, my friends and family.  Even without the comparison to the horrors of Japan, my gratitude is immense.  I am healthy, I have wonderful people who love me, an income producing job, a home, pets, clothes, food and talents waiting to be fulfilled. 

Life is good.  Thank you God for the gifts I have been given.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Risk Taking

This morning as Abbie and I were walking, she took considerable interest in the thin layers of ice over the melted snow in the ditches.  During our afternoon walks, the ice melts forming moats.  These moats provide a challenge for her to jump across.  Overnight, the water freezes, supplying morning adventures.  This morning, she started at the ice's edge to determine just how far she could venture onto the moat.  The process involves stepping into the ice just until she hears cracking, then she backs up.  Then she starts taking bigger risks, stepping farther into the middle of the ice until she hears cracking.  Once, as she stood in the middle of the frozen pond, she turned to smile and show me how smart she was.  She explored each moat this way until she saw something interesting in the middle of one frozen pool.  She stepped onto the edge, then gingerly stepped toward the middle and the object of her curiosity.  The cracking began and she stepped back one step.  Then she leaned toward the object, stretching her nose closer, yet keeping her feet on solid ice.  Just then, her front feet went through the ice and she was up to her chin and chest in freezing water.  Her back legs remained on frozen ice, so she scrambled back to dry ground. 

Her curiosity for the object overcame her need to stay dry, so she attempted once again to walk on the ice far enough to gain access to the object.  Once again, she broke through the ice.  At that point, she decided the object was not worth the effort so she took off on a new adventure.

Abbie's desire for the unreachable object only went as far as she was willing to go into the freezing, undesirable water.  As it is with risk taking.  As we look toward goals we want, objects of our desire, how far into the uncomfortable zones are we willing to go?

Today, I am taking a bigger risk and the water is not that cold.

Friday, February 25, 2011

Age and wisdom

In the words of Socrates, "The more I learn, the more I learn how little I know."  Age is definitely helping me realize that there is a depth of knowledge that I have failed to learn over time. As I near my 50th birthday, I realize that the more I understand about people around me, but more I can learn about myself.  This statement, coming from a validated introvert, actually means I am becoming more interested in the people around me and what I can learn from them.  My interest is focused on their life's experience and how it has affected them rather than the knowledge they have.

Last night's lesson came during my first book club meeting.  There were three other women in the group, a retired English teacher, a health care professional, and the leader.  We all read the same book, but getting their points of view reflected the things that were of interest to them.  While we had similar items of interest, we also had points that one person totally missed, while the others thought them quite note worthy.  The women in this group were either older than I or of similar age group, but we all had quite different life experiences which made us pay attention to the various items of interest.

Another lesson I learned yesterday is that young people, people in their 30's, are involved in serious life altering decision making processes.  A co-worker's husband is taking the same journey in life that I did in my late 30's.  As I hear the story from my co-worker's point of view, I am contemplating the best path to help her either a) understand her husband's search; let him go and find his own way or b) give her information that might make him alter his path, which would be better for her.  For me to give this advice brings me back to my original sentiment, I am not smart enough to help in this decision making.  What's right for him is right for him - not me, nor his wife.  OR is it our lot in life to guide each other through sharing our life's experiences and hope that we make a difference along the way? 

I have learned a great deal when friends and family have offered advice to understand my behaviors.  I have appreciated their insight.  So am I smart enough to help others deal with their lives or do I still have a lot to learn?  Do I have to offer advice or can I live by example and hope that what I have learned is available to those who would benefit?  The answer is the unknown future, and again I realize, "The more I learn, the more I learn how little I know."

Namaste (meaning..the wisdom in me bows to the wisdom in you). .

Sunday, February 6, 2011

The colors of winter

I've heard people saying they're so tired of winter and how ugly it looks outside.  Here's an image that contradicts that statement.  The snow in the country reflects the colors of the sky.  During sunrise and sunset, we get to see pinks, oranges, blues and various shades in between.  The reflection on the snow looks like a water color reflection off of water. 

During the day, the colors display various shades of gray:  steel gray, purple-gray, red-gray, blue gray, green gray.  There are shades of brown and black intermixed with the with the grays and whites.

While the landscape does not show the brilliant greens of spring, there's no shortage of colors to admire in the winter landscape.  If you are tired of the winter and need a pick-me-up, take a drive out to the country.  Bundle up with layers of clothes, bring your dog, take a walk and soak in some winter beauty.

Sunday, January 30, 2011

Yoga sequencing - Warrier Series

While I would love to spend an hour on my daily yoga practice, I have finally decided that 15-20 minutes every morning is better than wishing I had more time to spend.   Recently, I have been working on sequencing  yoga poses, coming up with some interesting flow movements.  I would like to start adding some of these series to my blog, so that you might incorporate them into your own home yoga practice.  One of my favorite flows is the Warrier series. 

Start with a 2-4 Sun Salutations (1-2 on each side).

Once warmed up, move through the following series, spending 2-5 breaths on each pose. 
1.  Warrier 1
2.  Warrier 2
3.  Reverse Warrier (back arm to leg, front arm to the sky)
5.  Side Angle
4.  Triangle
5.  Reverse Triangle
6.  Standing splits/forward fold/hands in reverse namaste
Switch to the other side and repeat.

It's all relative

4:30 pm. I had put in my day's worth of work and it was time to go home.

The temperature outdoors was 42 degrees Fahrenheit, only 10 degrees above freezing. I put on my long wool coat, wrapped my knitted scarf around my neck, buttoned up my coat and walked out the door to my car. The sun was shining. There was no wind. If it had been a day in November and 42 degrees, I would have huddled my neck down into my scarf and thought it was really cold. Instead, I unbuttoned my coat and raised my face to the sunshine, thinking it was an absolutely gorgeous, downright balmy, day.

I raced home, thinking Abbie would enjoy today's afternoon walk as compared to the single digit to teens temperatures we had been experiencing. As soon as I got home, I changed my clothes and put on my walking shoes. Abbie was ready to go after spending the day in her kennel.

We took off outside. Her tail rose like a metal flagpole. We took off down the road. Her tail whipped, giving her back legs a lift off of the ground. She loves the heat, and often lies on the tiles in front of the wood burning stove to soak in the heat. But today's difference in temperature was noticeable to her and she wasn't begging to go back to the house. Instead, she jumped and bounced as she raced down the road, tail wagging, ears perked, nose engaged.

In the cold mornings, we often get half way through our walk when Abbie decides she is ready to turn back to the house and its warmth. Today, there was none of that behavior. The snow in the ditches was still deep, but instead of being fluffy and easy for Abbie to run through, it was heavy and wet with melting. Abbie took off through the ditches, sinking up to her belly in the snow and loving the challenge of the workout. As she emerged out of the ditches onto the road, she would shake her entire body, starting at her head and through to her back legs, doing a twist as her back legs danced off the ground.

By the time we were at the end of our first mile, the sun had set and it was time to turn around and go back to the house. Abbie was ahead of me, so I decided to keep walking. There was still enough light in the sky and the sunset's colors were a brilliant orange fading to pink. The blue sky above was crossed with condensation trails of people traveling to places unknown. Several flocks of geese had also flown overhead. I didn't want this time to be over and neither did Abbie.

When we did finally turn to go home, there was a faint wind in my face that smelled like spring. The melting snow and warming earth created that spring smell that made deep breathing a joy as the wind caressed my face. Thoughts of crocus and daffodils crossed my mind.

By the time we got home, the temperature had dropped to 36 degrees. It was only four degrees above freezing; still cold but not frigid as it has been. The wind was mild and it smelled like springtime. Abbie enjoyed running through the soggy snow as much as I had enjoyed watching her and the sun setting behind the horizon. Cold? Maybe, but it's all relative. We would look forward to tomorrow morning's walk, no matter what the temperature.

Monday, January 3, 2011

"What you think about, you bring about." Mary Kay Ash

As I start this first Monday of 2011, I was thinking about how much I do not want to go to work and wishing I was already retired.  My Applause magazine from Mary Kay was on today's stack of reading materials and the phrase, "What you think about, you bring about," was brought to my attention.  

Here I was, thinking about NOT wanting to go to work, when what I should have been doing was sitting in my lovely little writing room, doing what it is that I want to do, which is writing.  Today's TV commercials are full of new year resolutions; loose weight, stop smoking, get fit.   My commercial today should be, "get your life on track by doing what you want to be doing.  Keep thinking about it, outline the simple steps, and do them."

Happy 2011.  May it be a year of bringing about what you're thinking about.