Happy # 108: Be happy regardless.

This will be my last post on this blog.

I began this journey almost two years ago as a way to document the process of finding happiness during misery. I discovered the things I believe increase happiness, do indeed make a difference. And that regardless of what you're going through, you can find happiness if you follow a few basic steps.

1. Find something to be grateful for. (Have a thankful heart.)
2. Find something to do. (Exercise and/or work it off.)
3. Find something to eat. (Nourish body, mind, and soul.)
4. Find something to look forward to. (A different way to think about your life.)
5. Find someone to serve.

To this list I would like to add: Trust God.

All this said, you can only take responsibility for your own happiness. And as much as you may want to, you can't fix someone else or make an unhappy person happy.

I think I've pretty much said everything there is to say on the subject... ;)

So I close this blog with gratitude for the journey that has shown me there is ALWAYS another way. And sometimes all it takes is simply finding the other way to think about a thing that helps ease the pain and move us into being able to let go.

I've learned things along the way about myself. And my personal happiness has increased immeasurably. While it blows my mind that it took until I was almost 50 years old to learn what I did, I am grateful I know these things now. A life abundant with love and happiness awaits. :D

Thank you for sharing life with me for awhile. And good luck on your own personal journey to being happy regardless.

I'm on to the next adventure in mine. Drop me a line and I'll include you. :)

Peace out.

Happy # 107: God keeps His promises.

The other morning I was on a run and had started up the hill in the graveyard when all the sprinklers turned on. Within minutes there were multiple rainbows from the water streams shooting out under the sunshine.

It was beautiful, powerful, and peaceful. Naturally, I took a picture. :)

When I was looking at the photos later that evening, I noticed something interesting. In several of the images, a large rainbow had spanned a section of the tombstones.

And then it hit me. There it was--the symbol of God's promises--stretched out like a landmark over the symbols of death, as a reminder of eternal life.

It gave me peace.

God keeps his promises.

Period.

Happy #106: Disregard the distractions.

Ok, I know this is a ridiculous image in all the cheesy ways light up, sparkly, (and I love things that sparkle, but not these) online cut and paste sparkly images can be. But when I googled "cheerleader" and hit images, all that turned up were cheerleaders in short shorts with their chests busting out of their skimpy tops. Google it. You'll see what I mean. Or not.

I was trying to find an image to convey a sentiment I've been feeling strongly about--that we ought to say with less reserve the words of kindness which would express the loving thoughts we have of each other. Simply because we have the power to uplift one another. This is real and no small thing...

Recently, two men in my life--good friends, both happily married--have said loving things to me and I have been honestly, truly uplifted and edified by them.

My friend Rob, a friend from high school, reminded me at a critical moment that I've always been everyone's cheerleader. It was a simple thing for him to say. But it had profound impact on me because I had forgotten how true it is about my nature. By helping me remember something very positive about who I am, Rob grounded me. At a moment I needed it. I'll never forget the lesson he taught me about the importance of speaking the good we see in each other. Especially when it comes to essential parts of who we are in good ways.

Life is so full of distractions. I think we're all trying to do the best we can. But I think it's very easy to get sidetracked and lose sight of what's important. And sometimes of who we are...

Focus is a good thing. Focus on priorities and the people in our lives is a great thing. And essential if our lives are going to end up having any meaning at all.

So Happy #107 is simply: Disregard the distractions. See the good. Speak the good. And be someone's cheerleader.

Go, fight, win. :D

This looks like me, right? ;-)

Happy #105: Understand your wiring and Love As is.

Why does our self worth depend on what other people think? (It shouldn't, btw...)

My daughter, Kelsie, came home from teaching her peers in a Sunday School class today. A young man pulled her aside after her lesson and began making critical remarks, offering suggestions for how she could more fully engage the class in discussion.

Kelsie is an exceptional teacher, even at a young age. And she is confident in her abilities. Yet she was so troubled by this experience, she was still trying to process it hours later.

Why did she care? Because the remarks came from a boy.

"Well, at least I can take delight in the other boy's comments," she said.

"What you can take delight in is that you're alive and on this planet and beautiful and intelligent and talented!" I offered.

She was unaffected.

Why do we (women) care what men think??

Kelsie and I stood across the island from each other--smiling, thinking, her eyes twinkling...

Then suddenly she burst out, "It's biological, Mom!! Some areas of the female brain are larger than the same spots in the male brain, and visa versa. And parts of the limbic cortex, the part of the brain that controls emotional responses? Yeah. Ours is bigger. So we're wired to care what boys think!! Researchers put monkeys in a pen and offered them masculine and feminine toys. And guess what? The boy monkeys played with trucks and the girl monkeys played with dolls. It's biological."

"So what about the boy monkeys that played with dolls?" I asked. (I just assumed there were some that did.) "Does that mean they were gay monkeys? Or that they cared more about girls than the boy monkeys that played with trucks?"

"Yeah," Kelsie said.

And we laughed.

But the truth is somewhere around the edges. It's biological and sociological. We may be wired biologically to care about what men think because men are the center of what women (most of us) are wired to care about--marriage, babies, family, home, meaningful contribution (professional or otherwise). But we are affected by what men think because of our experience and/or how society has sculpted our perception of our worth.

When I suggested Kelsie be delighted because she's simply here, I realized it's what I take delight in. Because she's my daughter. And I wish she could see what I see and the value she has in this world just because she's here.

But it got me thinking of all the good that could come from simply finding our own worth in just being here on the planet. Maybe Jesus was trying to tell us something when He said, "As I have loved you, love one another." As He has loved us: As is.

His words would be more easily fulfilled if we found a little of that "as is" self love first.

We may be wired a given way. Or have had experiences to reinforce a particular belief. That doesn't mean we're we're stuck with it. (Whatever it is.)

You're the cake. Everything else is icing.

Learn to validate yourself. Decorate the cake. :-)

And feel your worth.

Then pass it on. You know, that whole "love one another" thing. Love As is...

You first. ;-)

PS. You can read my daughter's account of her experience HERE.

And as a side note, the research Kelsie referenced is in this article His brain, Her brain .


And check out this teaching tool for the BRAIN and get to know a little bit more about yourself. :-)

Happy #104: Follow the peaceful feelings.

It's Canada Day. And I've just returned home from spending the last four days making daily visits to the precious little town of Blaine, WA.

Blaine is nicely nestled right beside the US/Canadian border. It's BEAUTIFUL. A darling little seaside community. And I love it. I love the water, the seagulls, the sunsets, the marina, the people--everything. It's a small town with a population barely over 4,000. But on the Fourth of July this modest count explodes to over 15,000 as friends and loved ones fill the streets of this tiny little city. The sidewalks burst with color as hanging flower baskets grace the lamp posts. Flags of red, white, and blue adorn every building. And you can feel the excitement in the air as the town prepares to celebrate.

I hope to celebrate with them someday and to share their 4th of July festivities with my children and grandchildren. I also hope to help the community of Blaine revitalize their town over the next ten or twenty years.

I'm from Canada, and a US Citizen. So being in Blaine (and so close to Canada) feels good. It's like I've got my feet on the ground of both places I love. And I could stand at the Peace Arch with one foot in each country and make that true. Maybe I'll post a picture of that someday. :-)

All this said, this recent visit to WA was to sort out something (not in Blaine) that has become a difficulty for me. So I experienced some stress and angst almost the whole visit, except, interestingly, for the times I was actually in Blaine. This was a valuable experience of contrast for me.

Today, I am home. And I have peace.

In this process of trying to find solutions and make decisions, I've been reminded that following the peaceful feelings that come with particular decisions and actions is very, very important.

I was sleeping last night when the plane began it's descent. I woke only slightly to hear, "Welcome to beautiful Salt Lake City." Immediately all the stress of the trip was gone and I felt ease, knowing I would be seeing my family in minutes.

I don't know what will happen with my work in WA. Or with the situation I went up there to resolve.

But I've made some decisions and this much I'm clear about today: Life is uncharted territory. It happens one day at a time. And following what feels peaceful and right is the path of ease and the best course, I believe, in the moment. This may be a no-brainer for you. But for those of us who try way too hard for far too long, it's a revelation every time it comes back around.

Happy Canada Day. Bring on the Fourth of July.

I'm happy to be home. :-)

Happy #103: Be in it well.

I stood outside my home last night and looked up at the stars. Salt Lake City is well lit, so there aren't many readily observable bits of glitter in the midnight velvet. The downside to the upside of urban bliss...

I thought back on memories we've made as a family in the mountaintops of other places when the stars were so thick and luminous it seemed like we were standing in the Milky Way. And I thought about the millions of galaxies out there we don’t know about, and what they may contain. We have such limited knowledge. And we know so little. About anything.

My thoughts about my smallness and seeming insignificance brought this statement by Ghandi to mind, “Whatever you do will be insignificant, but is very important that you do it.”

I’m not sure I agree. (With the "will be insignificant" part.)

That said, I believe that however small and insignificant my life may be, my actions have an impact. The only good I may be able to do may be in the lives of my children and for those within my sphere, but that is significant.

Here’s why.

I have been paying particular attention recently to the importance of doing things well—whatever those things may be, in whatever moment. Work, laundry, weeding, planting flowers, preparing food, leisure, relaxation, being in a conversation…

Tonight I'm in Washington and earlier this evening I was sitting at a local sushi bar having dinner with a friend. Thanking us for coming in, our waiter (mid to late twenties would be my guess) reached across the bar to set my water down. I looked at his hand, holding my glass, then I glanced up to say thank you. In the split second it took to look from the glass in his hands to his eyes, I caught a glimpse of a tattoo on the inside of his forearm.

As we engaged in conversation during his service to us, I mentioned I had seen his tattoo and was intrigued by it. Surprising myself with what I said next, I asked if he would be willing show it to me.

I’ve had several men offer to show me their tattoos. Yeah. But I’ve never, not one time, ever asked to see someone’s tattoo.

He came out from behind the bar and over to our stools. Rolling up his sleeve, he stretched out his arm to show me the beautiful script that had caught my eye. He explained it was the poem he had written a few years ago when his mother died. Wanting to honor her and his memory of her, he put the poem and her name, Grace, on his arm.

He read aloud,

“In this life the lessons in your eyes to see,
Though things change, the future is still inside of me,
We must remember that tomorrow comes after the dark,
So you will always be in my heart
With unconditional love.”

Grace said and did things that were meaningful for her son. This is significant. His love for her, and his actions that demonstrated that love, provided an experience that was meaningful for me. And this is significant. Grace is not here on this planet anymore, but both her son and I are inspired by her life. And that is significant.

Doing things well requires the choice to do things well. Then paying attention and giving focus to what is in the moment.

It’s all we’ve really got anyway, the moment.

Be in it while it’s going by.

Be in it well.

Happy #102: Recognize your influence.

It's Father's Day.

My father died tragically when I was 15. He called me Pinky (& Pink) from the day I was born until the day he died, and to this day pink is my favorite color. (The roses I just planted in my yard, above.)

I don't have many memories of my Dad. He wasn't around very much. (And his unavailability created issues I'm still working through...) But in the few years of my life he was here, he gave me a priceless gift.

Confidence.

My father believed in me. He loved and adored me, and he told me so all the time. He told me I was brilliant and beautiful and that I could do anything I put my mind to.

And I grew up believing him.

There wasn't so much praise around after my father died. Fortunately for me, the confidence he fostered had set before he was gone.

A week or so ago a friend of mine said something praiseworthy to me and it affected me deeply. We talked a bit about why people don't say more positive things to each other more often. He remarked, " Why is it more acceptable, or at least more common, to offer gentle criticisms and/or corrections, while gentle affirmations and loving words are less common? Surely the motive is the same. And interestingly, frequently the result is the same, too. I think we should say heartfelt things to each other more often. Who else do we have? How else would we know?"

I've tried to convey a number of times and in a number of ways (in this blog), the importance of saying good things to each other. But today, on Father's Day, I want to draw particular attention to the importance of a father's praise in the lives of his children.

My father, limited as his time was on earth, had a lasting, positive, and profound influence on my life. I honor him today. I honor all the fathers out there who encourage and uplift their children.

Happy #103 is Recognize your influence. Because everyone around you is in need of hearing more good. And you are the most important part of that equation.

I miss you, Dad.

Happy #101: Bounce back.

Bounce back.

You (and everyone you know) will suffer adversity. Given.

Yesterday, the day after the disappointment I wrote about, I called a dear and lifelong friend to check-in. A few minutes into the conversation, my friend shared she was feeling concerned about a visit she would be making that evening.

The morning or two before, a friend of my friend (names omitted for obvious reasons), had gone into the bedroom of her 19 year old son to wake him up. Her son had passed away in his sleep.

No warning. No indication there were problems with his health. He was alive the night before and gone the next morning.

It put things into perspective for me immediately.

So I said to myself, "Kathleen, get over yourself and bounce back." I say that a lot... It's largely the reason I've mastered the ability to take life as it comes and persevere. Happy. Regardless.

Perspective is everything. I don't know that it's possible to thrive in the face of adversity, setbacks, and loss. But I know it's possible to change how we feel by changing our outlook.

I'm praying for the peace of my friend, her friend, and her friend's family. And I'm thanking God for my blessings--my four precious ALIVE children at the top of that list.

Bounce back. And press on.

We all have a lot.

Just a reminder. :-)

Happy #100: Hope for more, but be grateful for and take loving care of what you have.

By now you've all figured out I write as a way to work myself out of a place that is less than "happy". So bear with me, this post won't end up the downer it's going to start out as. ;-)

I received some exceptionally disappointing news yesterday. It was the sort of sad news that makes you want to give up trying to make your life work at all. You know the news. The prayer not answered in the way you hoped it would be. The hope you held that comes crashing down around you. The outcome so opposite to what you felt would happen, you realize it was your own hopeful thinking and not the path of right you thought it was. Worse, the spiritual impression you thought you had been given that turns out otherwise and causes you to question everything...

I write these words knowing there are a few of you out there who have experienced this.

Yesterday closed with me feeling like I didn't want to pray for anything anymore. Or pray at all. Ever. Not even to say, "NOT cool, God. NOT COOL!"

For those of you who know me, this not who I am.

Yet this most recent bit of bad news grabbed hold of my faithful roots and shook them with the intent to rip them clear of the spiritual ground they are firmly planted in. Those faithful roots that say God hears us, He loves us, and His hand is in our lives.

So when I went to bed last night (after thinking and doing the things I have recommended in this blog--which usually work), I was confused, hopeless, and mad at God.

But this morning I found myself turning to the only place I can find peace when I need it most. And there I was, praying.

Yesterday Kelsie said to me, "When you can't hope anymore, you just have to do. Sometimes trying to have hope is just too painful." More wise words from the youth in my life.

Doing requires action, work. Which may not be work exercised in hope, but will be action that produces results, nonetheless. So any action, even if you don't feel your best doing it, will move things forward.

The thought struck me that when these times happen, it's important to continue to try to be hopeful for more (of whatever it is you need and/or want), but to be grateful for and take loving care of what you have. I cannot underscore this enough. (Actually, I can't underscore it at all--there isn't an underline tag tab. But you get what I'm trying to emphasize here.)

Hope is a precious thing. It is the seed of faith. Without hope, we have nothing. And for anyone who has ever felt hopeless, you know how disabling (and sometimes paralyzing) it can be.

But I am given to appreciate the words of my 22 year old daughter, Kelsie. Because in working and serving and doing, with gratitude for whatever we can find to be grateful for, I think hope can find it's way back.

I have no answers about what happened yesterday. But when I woke up this morning and realized there was only one place to turn to feel better, I was grateful I believe in God's power to make things right in my life and help me find my way. (Even if it seems for the moment He's sequestered Himself in the heavens and is nowhere to be found.)

Yesterday I said to God, "What the HELL are YOU DOING?!?!?!?"

I meant it.

This morning, I thanked Him. For everything I should. Gratitude and commitment to God, regardless. Because I trust Him.

The sun is shining and the sounds of summer--birds chirping, lawnmowers mowing, and a small airplane buzzing in the background of a clear blue sky--are outside my window. I am grateful for life. For all of it.

Happy #101 is purely: Hope for more, but be grateful for and take loving care of what you have.

Those of you who regularly read this blog (you know who you are), thank you for your support. I feel your love.

Happy #99: Learn to frame it differently.

I was having dinner with my son Jackson last night when he shared personal sentiments about struggle that surprised me. Jackson is exceptionally articulate, with a vocabulary that requires nearly everyone to look up word or two. So his choice for common language at a key moment in our conversation caught me off guard. But in a good way, oddly. It was refreshing. And I think the first time I’ve ever heard my son swear.

I find the older I get, the more quiet I become. So when I expressed how I was feeling to Jackson, it was with very few sentences. I finished what I was saying and looked out the window to push the tears down and pull myself together. I took a deep breath, then turned back and looked in his eyes.

We sat quietly for a moment, just looking at each other. Then he said, “Yeah, sometimes life feels like shit. And you can see it that way. Or you can see that shit as manure. Fertilizer meant to help you grow, to fortify you. Shit or manure. It’s the same thing and it comes from the same place. How you see it is up to you. You were just sharing John 15 with us yesterday, that the Lord purges us and prunes us, to make us more than we are. He's got you, Mom. It's all fertilizer.”

Perspective on the shit of life. From my 24 year old son.

The bamboo plant only produces seed once in a long human lifetime. So the seeds are rare. And expensive. And for the first year after they’re planted, they appear to have no growth.

They require care, attention, and fertilization for years before they begin to show signs of growing. If the seed is adequately cared for, the growth happens below ground, in the roots. After three to four years the bamboo shaft breaks through the ground and grows 60-90 feet in six weeks.

But this only happens after the bamboo seed has been fortified and strengthened over time. In the ground. In the dark. While the seed grows in ways nobody can see.

“Did the plant grow 90’ in six weeks or in five years?” Elizabeth Smart asked on Sunday. She shared the story to illustrate her personal perspective about the importance of the growth we all experience when it seems like nothing is happening. “It is during the times of trial that we grow our 90 feet”, she said. “I would encourage you to consistently try to give and do your best.”

Perspective on the growth that comes from the dark times. From Elizabeth Smart ...

Jackson, 24.
Elizabeth, 23.

They’re more than half my age. And I learned from them both. Perfect lessons with perfect timing. Because God is good like that. I'm grateful.

It’s my 50th birthday today. It's almost 2:00 in the morning and it's raining. But I wanted to write this.

I wanted to salute the young people in my life I learn so much from and enjoy so thoroughly. And I hope for another 50 years with all of them--learning to frame things differently, receiving unexpected pearls of wisdom from their beautiful hearts and minds.

May we all grow up together.

Happy Birthday, to me. :-)

PS. I promised my dear friend Lori Roadhouse I'd announce the book, Happy Regardless with this 100th post. Just need a publisher. And an audience. And more ideas. And a few writing classes. And people who would buy the book. And a good editor. And...

Details. ;-)

Bring on the birthday trip to Hawaii and me on the beach in a bikini. Frame that. :D

Happy #98: Education, education, learning.

Graduation at any age from anything is a victory. Just the ability to push through and finish deserves to be celebrated.

Education is difficult--under the best of circumstances. But for those of us who have struggled to complete our educations (all things considered), the work is worth the sacrifice.

A friend of mine, Randall Mackey (sits on the Utah State Board of Education), has been very supportive of my hope to complete a PhD. Every time we bump into each other, he asks how it's going. And he urges me, in every conversation, not to give up. One time in particular he said to me, "Kathleen, it will do more for you than you can imagine. But it's not the degree that will hold the real value when you're finished. It's who you will have become in the process." His expressed belief in what I'm doing encourages me to finish. Whatever it takes...

Thomas Jefferson said, “To penetrate and dissipate the clouds of darkness, the general mind must be strengthened by education.” And we all know what education does to break the cycle of poverty.

Education and learning are not always the same thing. But in the process of getting an education, we learn. (Though maybe not in the ways we were supposed to about the things we were supposed to...)

And learning is fundamental to progression.

In an effort to share some very inspiring writing about education and learning, I'm including my friend Peggy's recent blog post here. Peggy writes about her experience in trying to finish her own education with honesty, humor, and grace. It moved my daughter and I to tears.

I've shared the link to her blog in other posts. But here it is again. Peg's Blog .

Here's Peggy, and "Get schooled."

I started college in 1979. Oldest of nine children, I went off to Brigham Young University with high hopes, in clothes I had made for myself and with money saved from three summer jobs. The eight kids still at home meant my folks could not help much financially. I worked in the college bookstore, and majored in art. This was a poorly-considered choice, but it took me a year to figure that out. Art was a highly-competitive major, and I was just not that good at it. I chose BYU in the hopes of getting into their song-and-dance group, “The Young Ambassadors”, and when I was not successful at this, I decided to return to Arizona for the summer and regroup.

I secured a full-time custodial job at Arizona State University. As an employee, I could take classes for next to nothing, so stayed at ASU. I took French and Weightlifting. I stayed up too late and could not choose a major. I leaned toward Photo-journalism, although music was my first love. After a year at ASU, I decided the 4pm to midnight custodial job was interfering with my social life, so I quit and enrolled in Mesa Community College. Working my way backwards, high school was sure to be my next stop. Instead, I met a drummer. He had a band. I wanted to be in it, and I wanted him. Going back to high school might have been a better idea. But I was sold. Quit school, sang in bars and hotel lounges for a year, and married my drummer. Six kids and twenty-three years of marriage boot camp later, I graduated from the School of Dwindling Self-Esteem and found myself in a world where that particular education held no earning power. I knew I needed to go back to Real College. I had enrolled in a couple of classes at MCC a year or two before divorce, but that was quickly halted. I was “using too much gas” and “neglecting my duties at home” in this silly pursuit.

While working out the post-divorce financial arrangement, I quickly learned how fast $300 an hour in legal fees adds up, so naively settled for only four years of alimony, in spite of the guideline for a marriage as long as ours being three times higher. Divorce Math 101. I knew my soon-to-be ex would fight me on the higher numbers, and I figured I had a year of school under my belt, so I would be done in three, giving me a full year to secure a job, and then I would no longer be reliant upon a man who hated me for my support. It seemed logical, and it speeded up the process considerably, while eliminating legal costs.

I had no idea that I would have to withdraw from two semesters in a row because I could not keep my youngest son in school. Or that my 15-year-old daughter would require major spinal surgery, and that her father would use this surgery to try and take possession of both her and her younger brother. After two years of not sleeping at night because I dreaded the morning, which usually greeted me with a kicking, screaming, anxiety-ridden child who had to be stuffed into the car by his brothers and then relegated to the Principal’s office where he would kick the walls all day, I finally opted for an online K12 education for him.

I found some irony in the fact that twice I enrolled in Psychology 101, and twice I had to withdraw from that class to deal with the real-world psychological issues taking place in my own home. And this was upper-division stuff. But I got no college credit for it. What I had learned in two decades of raising children was only marketable in the form of child care, so I took a nanny job for a year, working for a very wealthy blended family. This was an education in social class and morals, and did not end well. Again, no college credit.

After four years of trial and error, I have become most creative in the balancing of my real-world education with my academic education, both of which are ongoing. As I have learned to navigate the world of Financial Aid and online possibilities, and also with the help of family and friends, I am finally within a year of securing that elusive Degree. If asked to sum up what I have learned thus far, my answer would have to be that I have learned that no one is ever fully educated. The lessons will continue to come long after the cap and gown have made their walk.

Onward and forward, Pegs. You will finish. :-)

Happy #97: Spark fun. Spark love.

Conversations stimulate connective thinking.

Conversing with family and friends, I've been reflecting. Re-thinking. Doing a mental map make-over. :-) Dot connecting.

Naturally, in the process, I've been reminded of something I believe has relevance to our exercise of finding peace (and happiness), regardless. This may be a no brainer for you. If it is, just check the box that says, "Yah. I knew that." And good for you. ;-)

Dot #1: There have been a few times in my life when I've experienced true well-being, when the light of God rested upon my soul like the warmth of the sun. Truly. One season in particular was during the death of my mother. The light I was given was measured out several times over a number of weeks and months. It was the answer to the prayers of a friend in my behalf. Even now, all these years later, I am able to draw from it. The experience changed what I know about the power of prayer for someone we love.

Dot #2: Kelsie came home from church last Sunday and said, "We're supposed to go into these situations where we're all young and single and supposedly have so much in common, and we don't know how to connect. We're so used to texting and Facebooking to interact, we've lost the social graces it takes to make friends. Never mind date or build community. We don't know how to do it."

Dot #3: When I asked Roman (27, single, the young engineer working with the principal engineer on a project I'm doing) about his view of the dating issue (and what's changed) he said to me, "It was different back then. When you wanted to spend time with someone, you called them on the phone and you went out on a date. Because that was the only tool you had to work with. Now, if you want to hang out with someone, you send a text out to a bunch of people. Those who can make it show up and those who can't don't. So the chances of actually being with someone you like are slim."

Does anybody else see what I see in Dot #3?? There was something to that phone call to one single person, a personal invitation, and spending time together one on one. Connecting...

Here's a brief synopsis of my dissertation:

We're separated from each other. Isolated and disconnected. And our health and well-being is suffering. Layer one: The home is separated from community, isolating the family. (Homes are placed out and away from the market place.) To deepen the issue (layer two), the family is separated in the home and the individual is isolated. Within the walls of their own homes, family members retreat to bedrooms (or wherever), and "connect" with the outside world via computers and phones.

Naturally, well-being is compromised because both community and the family are undermined in the break-down of (real) social support. Our soils are depleted, so our food is empty. We drive everywhere we go, so we don't get the physical activity we need. People are waking up depressed, struggling to feel good unless they're on meds, and our emotional well-being (and that of our children) has taken the hit. Our bodies, our brains, and our hearts are starving.

Essentially, it's separation by degrees. And it's happened in layers over time.

But this isn't true everywhere. Read about the Kaluli people (no depression) of the New Guinea highlands here .

Education, awareness, and a change in course and direction aside, we can uplift each other in very simple but powerful ways.

Connect the dots.

Happy #98 is simply: Pray for the well-being of someone you love and make that phone call....

Spark fun. Spark love. :-)

Enough said.

Happy #96: Home, peace, and happiness abide wherever you are.

I'm sharing my friend Peggy's recent blog post because while having suffered some of the same losses, I simply could not have said it better.

On the path to peace and happiness, we often forget where the essence of well-being we all desire is most easily found.

Home, peace, and happiness dwell wherever you are. And there are people out there who feel peaceful, happy, and at home when you're around. Which is no small thing...

See all those little thumbnail pictures on the right hand side of this page? Those are people telling me they love me. And that my small efforts to share my heart matters to them. I feel loved by them. Loved. Just the presence of their pictures shows me I am supported--a simple thing making a meaningful difference for me. :-)

You are home for people in ways you may never know.

Just love.

Here's how Peggy said it:

Last year I lost a house, for the fifth time in as many years. The first of these was the house my children mourned losing, the one their father had provided. Beautiful and large, it was the center of where their friends and their lives revolved. I think they mourned the loss of that home at least as much as the departure of their father, who, after choosing his new wife, moved to another house in another state, with another’s children. So nothing felt more urgent to me than providing a real home for my children, whom he had left behind. My resolve and my faith in my ability to achieve this, as their mother, was unwavering. It was my reason for being; finding a home base, where my children would feel safe. I knew they needed to not feel like they were losing everything. And thus the journey toward "home" began.

Year One: a rental, just outside the orbit of familiar people and places, but the only place I could get. Displaced Homemaker, no marketable skills. WalMart job, shattered credit rating. The house was too small. My boys lived in the garage, and would not go to church or school. Faith being central to my survival, I feared my children would lose whatever level of religious faith they had acquired up to that point, so Year Two brought a lease-to-own, closer to their schools and our church. A Good Mother knows the value of the influence of church-going friends and the comfort of being at familiar schools. One year later, I lost the down-payment when I was unable to qualify to purchase the house. Two of my sons had dropped out of high school, and none were attending church. My youngest son had anger and anxiety issues that forced me to withdraw him from public school, and my own educational plans were put on hold. Yet I pressed on in my quest.

Year Three: nanny job with rental house, slightly rural area. More money, but situation with my children deteriorating further, partly due to their father’s unsuccessful attempt to spirit them away. Year Four, nanny job ends, finding us back in our old neighborhood, in a far-too-tiny rental. No credit check required. One side effect of moving a large family out of a large house into increasingly smaller houses is that the amount of stuff that follows, and therefore needs to be managed, seems increasingly larger. By this fourth and smallest house, I felt like a hoarder with all the boxes of STUFF stacked around me. It was memories mixed with junk, and it drained the life out of us all, but I did not have the emotional fortitude to go through it and decide what did and did not matter. Let alone the resolve to throw those things out.

The fifth and final house in this progression would surely be the home that saved my children. Yet another lease-to-own; down-payment forfeited when the deal went south. It turns out, those who require no credit check are often shady themselves, and this was proven to me painfully when I realized how completely I had been ripped off. Alimony running out, most of my children having moved out, and a houseful of stuff which I could not afford to maintain. Two years shy of completing my college degree, and most painful of all, I had failed to make my children a home. They were finding homes of their own. For me, this was Rock Bottom. No money, no job, no home, and no idea why I had failed so miserably. As a mother, as a wife, as a woman. I was in total despair.

I put the stuff in storage, dragged my exhausted self and my youngest son to Utah, and moved into my parents’ home to take refuge. This is where the healing and the epiphany began. The pressure of needing to provide was lifted. My parents made me feel at home. When I returned to Arizona to visit my children, they made me feel at home. I started to see that they still loved me. Unconditionally. They appreciated my efforts to make them a home, and they told me so. I discovered that home is not a location. Once I had let go of the idea that it was the four walls that mattered, I discovered home in many places. In the car, driving cross-country with my youngest son; sleeping on the couch where my three oldest sons, all of whom are gainfully employed and doing just fine, share a home; at my married daughter’s apartment, holding my grandbabies; at church, at a concert, a movie, or enjoying a meal with people that I love. Home is not a structure made of brick and mortar. Home is something you carry with you, that you offer to others. Home is who you’re with, wherever you are, so long as it is built on a foundation of love.

Peggy LaRee Sorenson

Happy #95: Chill with Jesus.

Ok, I know Easter has passed. But it came at a good time and in sync with my thinking about living peacefully, regardless.

If I was really on the ball, I would have written this post in time for Easter. I'm of the mind, however, it's better that I had the benefit of reflection and to be in the moment with the many conversations about Christ.

I asked several people this question: When you place yourself with Jesus in your thinking, what is He doing?

Interestingly, everyone shared the same (although varied) response. "He's just chillin', hanging with me. Listening." And remarkably (although not surprising), His presence in their thoughts had the same effect. Jesus wasn't doing anything. He was just there.

The Creator of heaven and earth was just there. Just being there. And everyone I talked to felt better simply at the thought.

Easter brings the Savior freshly into our minds. Given the gift His presence is, I would likely to humbly offer the invitation to think on Jesus and chill with Him more often.

I believe in Christ.

He is the source.

Peace, regardless.

Happy #94: Say thank you.

Juliet called and asked if I remembered a night when she and Kelsie were spending time together in their room. Let's see. Twenty years, loving sisters... Which time?? Lol. :D

It would have been before Kelsie left last June for her mission in Florida. So that narrowed it down a bit. But I was still drawing a blank, for obvious reasons. ;-)

She said they were snuggling, like they do, talking and laughing, when I came into the room with two glasses of water. I smiled, set the waters down, and left.

No big deal, right?

But for some reason on that day and in that moment, Juliet's heart was touched by my service. And she's thought of it over and over again in the time that has passed. (She's been away at college in WA.)

She intended to say something long ago, but kept forgetting. She wanted me to know much my care for her and her sister means to her. Simple, unsolicited service.

It took a year or more. But she didn't forget she wanted to say it. And her expression of thanks for my mothering came at a moment I needed it.

This is the first post in my series on our path to Peaceful, regardless.

Say thank you.

It doesn't matter how long it's been. If someone did something that moved you, find the way to let them know.

Because you never know whose heart you'll be lifting when you say thank you for the time they lifted yours.

Thank you, Juliet.

I love you. :-)
Mama
xoxo

Happy #93: Practice Yoga.

I can do that. ;-)

I'm going to talk more about yoga in the next few posts as I begin a three part series I'm calling, "Peaceful, regardless".

I love Yoga. Love it. I'm sure you'd all be very entertained with a picture of me doing yoga on my pink yoga mat or in some tropical place getting washed away by the tide because I was so focused. And we may get to that. But not now.

In the meantime, if you haven't tried yoga, get started.

It's remarkable for easing anxiety and stress in life.

Remarkable.

Peace out.

Happy #92: Tell yourself, "It's Ok. That's just today."

"There is no chance, no fate, no destiny that can circumvent or hinder or control the firm resolve of a determined soul." Ella Wheeler Wilcox

I'm not comparing myself to a snail, but I do want to make a point about determination and perseverance.

Earlier this week my son's high school was taking the group (about 400 students) senior class picture. There aren't many things Keaton asks specifically to participate in, but this was one of them.

The morning the photograph was to be taken, I began the usual routine of getting Keaton up and out the door for school. He doesn't have a class first period, so he arrives an hour later than the other students. Thinking they would take the picture mid to late morning (as they have in the past), I didn't call early about the timing for the photo. Nor did I call the day before. But I should have.

Keaton was excited and minutes away from being ready to go when I decided to check in with the school.

"Oh," the secretary said, "they just took the picture five minutes ago!"

I stood there in the kitchen. Stunned. Then I started to cry.

It would be one thing if my son didn't care about this. Or if there were more opportunities like this. Or if Keaton and I hadn't spent the last two years making up the first two years of his high school work (in addition to the second two years of work he was required to do) so he could graduate.

And it must have been a pathetic sight, me standing there in my kitchen, bawling. But worse than my tears was the feeling in my heart that I had let my son down. And for the first time in a very long time, I felt like a loser. An honest to goodness loser.

Because, all things considered, I could have prevented his disappointment. And as I said, he doesn't ask for much. So this was painful for me.

I have a few regrets in my life. This will be one of them.

That said, I value perseverance. And I believe that when we grow, even just a little bit, change for good follows. So I may have felt like a loser that day. And truthfully, for all the reasons I should. But all I can do is go forward and try to do better.

I consoled myself (after calling myself a loser, which I don't think I've ever done), knowing it's a victory Keaton is graduating at all. Keaton struggles with life on the Autism spectrum. Had I not persevered when the school was telling me it would be nearly impossible for him to make up the work (and I should be satisfied with a Certificate of Completion for Keaton), that would have been the real failure. And that's were I truly would have failed him. He was always capable of graduating. Even if the school wasn't capable of helping him produce the work required to demonstrate his capability...

The senior class picture is a one time thing. There is no way for me to make it up to him. And photoshop would just be an unfortunate reminder that he wasn't actually there to participate in the experience. (Believe me, I considered it.)

But I have firm resolve and I am determined to do better with these details that need my more conscious and deliberate attention. For Keaton, for my other children, for myself--in every area of my life. For all the reasons I should.

Life is going to bring disappointments, setbacks, discouraging moments, and flat out heartbreak. When these moments happen, it's best to take the long view and remind ourselves that it's Ok. And that (whatever "that" is), is just today. Today can be a lot of things, but it's not tomorrow. And tomorrow is always different than today. Always.

With the firm resolve of my determined soul and perseverance, the change I hope for in my life may happen at a snail's pace. But that is also Ok. I have hope. And hope for change is the beginning. Everything can be better from there.

Happy #91: Do something Good.

The surest way I know to feel better in almost any situation is to do something good.

There are events, circumstances, and people who will show up in your life and create unfortunate difficulty in your world. Staying focused on these things (or these people and their actions) will bring more of the same into your life.

So take an action to counter and offset the negative. Tip the scale. Do something good, something positive.

Energy follows thought and matter follows energy. One thought in a positive direction will lead to another and a positive action has the power to create the change for good you desire.

This is hard to do in times of difficulty. Believe me, I know...

But it's the only way to create change for the better.

There are a lot of people out there suffering right now. (And not just in Japan.) You may not be able to do a big thing or help where there is global need, but you can do a small thing--in your life and in the lives of others. And the small things add up.

So think something good. Then do something good.

Begin with a prayer.

One small change.

As a people, as a world, we need more love for each other. In your own life and the lives of those around you, you have more influence for good than you know.

And remember above all else, prayer changes things.

Now go get the day. : )

Happy #90: Freshen up. Find some spring and bring it in.

Fresh flowers are a beautiful way to find some spring. And flowers heal the heart. Kelsie arranged these beauties for my birthday last year. I miss her. And I miss the flowers that were always around the house when she was here.

"Go get yourself some tulips," Mary said to me this morning.

Mary and I became friends when our daughters became playmates in grade school. That was over 15 years ago. She is dear to me, and someone who has been a shining example of cultivating joy. Mary can make any place beautiful, light up the room, warm your heart, and make you smile from the inside out. She inspires me.

But possibly the greatest gift Mary gives to everyone who knows her is the loving and generous spirit of her soul. With her whole selfless heart she serves those around her. And everyone is uplifted when Mary is around.

My children and I have rich and wonderful memories of spending time at her home in Monroe, WA. It was a worn out, beaten down farm when she and her husband Bill bought it. Mary turned it into a a magical wonderland and heaven on earth. Everyone was happy when they were there.

I called Mary after making the post to cultivate your personal joy. When I asked her what she does to cultivate her joy she said, "It's the little things." She went on to share the small wonders and beauties of life that fill her: her children, gardens, birds, doilies, flowers, tea cups, river rock, mucking around in the horse stall and caring for the animals she loves, and silver teaspoons. The list could go on. Essentially, Mary is the extension of spring. And all the hope it brings.

Mary, I love you. :-)

In looking back through earlier posts from a year ago, I saw a pattern for this time of year.

For those of us who believe the key to happiness is to contribute to the happiness of others, we will be better at giving and serving if we are actually happy. So start on the inside--of your hearts and your homes.

Spring is on it's way. In the meantime, "freshen up your nest," as Mary says. Paint. Wash the windows. Open them up and listen to the birds chirp. Toss a few brightly colored throw pillows on the sofa. Sweep. Vacuum in the corners. And find some flowers and bring them in doors.

And take a quick look through some previous thoughts about finding happiness when you're waiting for winter to be OVER. :-)

Happy #22: Trust God.

Happy #5: "You have to know what brings you up."

Happy #9: Exercise.

Happy #28: Find the sun.

Happy #38: Feel the hope of spring.

Find some spring. It's out there. Bring it in.

Happy #89: Cultivate your personal joy.

Women in Barcelona, Spain--dancing the Flamanco for a captivated crowd.

If you read the last two posts, you've read the words of two important people in my life. Gene and Harriet Hatch.

In their thoughtful counsel, they offered wisdom to live by. Distilled down, they said trust God and cultivate personal joy.

During my scripture study this morning I was profoundly moved by the truth and simplicity of their wisdom. If you knew them, you would understand why their words carry so much meaning for me. They are what they represent, so the extension of their counsel comes from a very real place.

I likely speak for my entire community when I say I'm ready for spring to arrive in Salt Lake City, Utah. Trusting God, hoping to clearly see the vision He has for me (thank you, Wendy), seeking His peace and ways to serve, spring is a good time to turn attention to the joy and happiness part of the equation. I think it's all found in the same place anyway.

The pictures below are of two older women (in their 70's, maybe early 80's) who captured an audience. I couldn't help but think of Harriet's advice (that I'm young now but in about three days I'll be 80) when the first woman began dancing to the music. Another joined her and they danced together. It moved me to tears.

Take a look at the pictures. In the zoom I've done for you, look closely at the musicians and people. Everyone was right there in the experience with them. In joy. It was beautiful.







Happy #89 is purely: Cultivate your personal joy. Seriously consider what makes you happy and brings you joy. Then do MORE of those things!! Because we do, afterall, get more of whatever we're focused on...

It's time for spring.

Let the sun shine in. : )

And if you need a laugh, check out these California Billy Jean Dancing Seniors giving a tribute to Michael Jackson. It's hilarious.

Happy #88: Don't mind that backdraft.

Nothing changes until something changes. And when one thing changes, everything changes. It's a physical law. Brought to you by God.

So if you want change, really want change, and you are committed to seeing change happen, brace yourself.

Things have not been going my idea of well lately. "I'm not gonna lie." (One of Jackson's expressions.)

In fact, the last month or so had me feeling as though I would never, ever be able to create the change I'm after. I felt like my entire life was in upheaval. Perhaps because it was. It's interesting how prayer works, often producing results in ways we didn't anticipate when we began praying for help with a particular thing.

When you submit your will to God, you better be ready to surrender to the outcome. And to the process he takes you through, for that matter.

Several months ago I began working intently on creating change in my life. Real change. For me, this meant asking God for clarity, deciding what I wanted, taking accountability for those desires, prayerfully considering my course, then taking the steps necessary to get to the outcome I was after.

What I didn't see coming was what I'm going to define as the backdraft of change. Feel free to use this term. I think it's excellent. ;-) I'm sure there's a psychological buzz word for the concept. But I think my words are comprehensively descriptive. Therefore, better. :D

Let me explain.

In the movie Backdraft (with Kurt Russell, one of my favorites) right before a huge explosion, a reverse draft develops. A backdraft. Fire and smoke starved of oxygen, remain at a high temperature, and the combustion ceases. False sense of security, that closed door on a fire... No apparent change, right?

Wrong. In the movie, suddenly a door was opened and oxygen was introduced to the fire. In a split second the heated gases sucked up the oxygen (engaging combustion) and BOOM!! An explosion.

A big one.

"It's the dark before the dawn, Kathleen. Keep turning to the Lord. He's with you, carrying your burdens. And watch for the light to break through the clouds," Patriarch Hatch said to me when I visited with him and Harriet a few weeks ago. It was his response to the many hits I was taking on my path to what I deeply believed (after a lot of prayer) was the best course. And though it did not feel like a whole lot of burden carrying was going on, I knew he was right.

When I was in the middle of the knock downs, it was difficult to see clearly. I was honestly beginning to feel like I would never be able to change my life for the better. Finding my path through prayer, I didn't question my course. But aside from the obvious leveling, I could not understand what was happening. And I began to feel the sort of despair that hopelessness brings.

Fortunately for me, in addition to my personal pleadings with God, someone out there was praying for me. All of those prayers were answered. (Thank you. You know who you are.)

After reading my post last week, my sweet friend Anne-Sophie (born on my birthday and the same age as my daughter Kelsie), wrote of my effort not being wasted, following with, "...even if you can't see the outcome of your strength in pain or your hope in loss or your trembling in weakness....yet. It wasn't in vain."

I thought about her words and read the article she shared with me, The Best is Yet to Be. She said it helped her choose to trust herself during a difficult time and reminded her to trust God. (Thank you, Anne. I love you, sweetie.)

Today something happened in my thinking. A light turned on. I was given awareness, then understanding, then peace. In seconds.

God did that. He helped me see. He enlightened me. In answer to prayer.

I am creating change. And that is why all this crap has been happening! Because that's the nature of change, the scientific and spiritual nature of change. Nothing changes until something changes. And when one thing changes, everything changes. So of course there's going to be opposition. A backdraft. Because I'm breaking patterns here. And breaking patterns creates resistance. Which produces strength. Which change requires. (Think about the seedling trying to sprout through the soil of the earth. Did you think breaking through the dirt to find the sun was easy? No pressure?)

It's almost as if nature conspires to test commitment. As if a soul desiring change seeks to be strengthened by the process itself, refined and prepared by and through the back draft, to be more.

It's a miracle, isn't it? The whole process?

There are all sort of stories out there about the strengthening benefits of adversity. You know the ones. They typically involve trees.

I don't know about you, but I don't want to be the oak tree strengthened by buffetings. I don't care about being strong enough to be someone's wagon wheel. I don't want to be the tree standing mightily all by itself out in the wilderness, strong because it had no protection from the storms. But by golly that wood is going to be fit for a fortress and make darn fine wagon wheels! Yea. No thanks.

I want to be the beautiful, delicate tree standing in the middle of the field with precious little flowers in the beds beneath me. Surrounded by a large and mighty evergreen forest for protection. I don't care to be made strong enough through buffetings to be a sturdy this or that for whatever it is you think you need to use a strong oak tree for. You get my point.

That said, and nevertheless, what I think doesn't matter. Or change God's law and/or the way He does things with His children. Who am I to question God's ways with me anyway? Or think the way isn't good just because it doesn't feel good or look good from my limited perspective? He helps us learn in the ways that are best for us, for our growth and strengthening. Doggone buffetings...

Given that I know there must be opposition in all things, and given my new found awareness of what is going to happen when I say I want change and I mean it, I wanted to offer my recent experience with change.

When the desire is real, and the actions are intent, there is going to be a backdraft.

So, brace yourself.

Because nothing changes until something changes. And when one thing changes, everything changes.

For some odd reason, understanding that all this adversity represents that I am creating change gives me hope. And strength. And I feel strong enough in these moments to be the wagon, all the wagon wheels, and whatever else it takes to get to the change I want.

"I can do all things through Christ which strengthened me." Philippians 4:13

Having said this, I would prefer to be sitting in the wagon wearing a beautiful dress and beautiful shoes. The sparkling kind. Pink ones. Not red.

But whatever.

Be the change you want to see.

Shelter yourself in the storm. Run away if you have to. ;-)

Then press on.

And don't mind that backdraft. It's just a little hot air.

Gratitude. Regardless.





And here's my precious Anne-Sophie. She lives in Germany. And she's studying to be an architect. : )