Thursday Thread

Happy Is . . . What Exactly?

Rawhide treats make our 10-year-old Greyhound, Baylor, really happy.

He made that point with gusto following a recent early morning walk. As I watched him devour the Christmas-decorated bone, I pondered the state of happy and what it means.

Pretty broad–and deep–subject for 7 a.m., wouldn’t you say?

Happy is a slippery word, I think, and is hard to define yet most of us are quick to respond to the question, Are you happy?

For me, at least at first blush, the word happy seems superficial. Who says, No, I’m not happy when asked?

Personally, I would rather someone ask me if I’m at peace, than whether I’m happy. The peace question seems a little easier to answer.

Maybe I’m just uncomfortable with the word Happy. I mean, think about how easily it gets tossed around. People are always throwing out Happy Birthday or Happy Anniversary or Happy New Year.

Have a Happy Day, a Happy Life.

But what does that mean?

Maybe we need to think about what causes happiness. Is it the source of satisfaction? Comfort? The ease with which we move through our days?

Maybe happy is a summation of being kind and gentle, thoughtful and charitable.

Perhaps the state of happiness is the absence of tension and envy. Sometimes I realize I’m empty of certain emotions, so is it at that point that other emotions–like Happy–can enter my consciousness?

Maybe I need to drain first, fill second.

All this really makes no sense, and truthfully, I’m started to remind myself of the late Andy Rooney delivering his closing comments on 60 Minutes.

Except . . .

Maybe the purpose of contemplating the meaning of Happy is merely to point out my incessant need to define my feelings.

There it is. The crux of discomfort. That old ugly urge to harness my state of mind.

Well, I say phooey to that today. I have only one need that can make me happy.

I just need to be; be in this moment because in this minute space of time, I am everything and anything and fine.

I may even go so far as to say I’m happy. Happy as a dog with a rawhide bone.

Love is All That is Within Me

My sweetie and I are just back from our fun-in-the-sun Christmas beach vacation.

Our five days of toes dipped in sand, fresh seafood and Atlantic sunrises filled us to overflow with gratitude and delight.  We arrived home last night wrapped in bubbles of peace.

Have you ever experienced that super-cool feeling of complete inside-out peace?  I’m pretty excited that on this 29th day of December, my personal 2011 is easing–not hurtling–toward completion.  For me, the year is not expiring in a big blob of trauma drama, as it has in the past.  Instead, I’m blessed that these remaining days are alive with love.

Love is All That is Within Me.

My prayerful wish for you is the same.

I know that we each have the ability to let go of anything that doesn’t serve our highest good.  A wise man on the beach taught me a simple surrender process (more to come on both the man and the process) that allows me to control not only how I choose to feel but also how I share those feelings.

We each have the ability to choose love in any circumstance.

You too can say,  Love is All That is Within Me.

Choosing love takes preparation.  I began to prepare on Christmas Eve by focusing on a simultaneous new birth within me as a part of the Christmas story.

I prayed this simple prayer, “Dear God, may Christmas Day be the first of all days that I live with conscious poise.  May I focus on honoring God-thoughts and forgive myself those thoughts that are less than honorable.  May my growth be deliberate and authentic and focused on love.  Thank you, God.  Amen.”

When I woke on Christmas morning, in my bed perfectly positioned to view the colorful palette of a breathtaking sunrise, I knew I was different.  I felt a sense of mindful connection and today, four days later, I remain plugged in to love and peace.

The probability is high that God and I can take this sense of mindful ease into the first hours, and perhaps days, of 2012.

With All That is Within Me, I make that my intention.

There will be no resolutions and no goal-setting for 2012.  Instead, I resolve to be as fully present to each day as I can knowing that how I approach my day is a conscious decision.

If you’ve chosen that Love is All That is Within You, I’d love to hear about your preparation process and about your intentional resolve.  Please leave a comment here.

In this, my last B Here Today post of 2011, I leave you with a gift and a promise:

My gift to you is a new and improved B Here Today, a 2.0 version, if you will.  The re-tooling is underway and will unveil in mid to late January.

My promise is to lovingly devote more peace, passion and presence to you in the new year.  I read recently that discipline + passion = magic.  2012 will be our year to make magic happen together.  

Until then, my mindful friends, B WELL and B LOVE.

BIG Holiday Hugs!

How Do You Color Your World?

I read some pretty incredible stuff each morning.

The writers of this morning’s serving of reflective readings all seemed to have entered my thought stream before sending their words to me.

Or as a dear friend says, “they’ve been reading my mail again!”

Alex Blackwell, a fellow blogger who’s work I thoroughly admire, describes how, “like a box of 64 Crayola Crayons, the year was colored with bright, happy colors and with somber, unfamiliar ones, too.” (http://thebridgemaker.com)

And on The Daily Love, Robin Lee suggests we ask ourselves this question, “If I believed my presence in life really mattered, would I show up and express myself differently in my life?” (http://thedailylove.com)

Both Alex and Robin address issues that capture my attention because the end of the year is a time when I usually inventory the past 12 months to determine where and how I can improve in the coming 12 months.

Alex writes about the process of acceptance and surrender that must occur if we are to weather the highs and lows of daily living.

He believes, as I do, that while the bright colors of life create our fun and excitement, it is the duller colors that determine how we show up in life and this is where Robin’s question comes into play.

In order to address the second half of her question, I need to truly believe that my individual contributions to life really matter. I need to understand that the sum of the whole would be less without my presence.

Do I believe?

Do you?

To go back to Alex’s 64-count box of colors, do you consider yourself a part of the grand palette? It’s okay for your hue to change with your circumstances, but please know that there is always a place for your within the box.

How will I then show up and color our world?

That’s a question that may take some time to answer; I know it will for me. As we go through this season of joyous holiday celebrations, I encourage you to take an assessment of how you’ve colored your 2011 and how you will strive to paint your 2012.

Go gently and easily. Let your interactions with others be filled with grace. And believe within the heart of Christmas, that love is all there is.

P.S.  Mindful Monday will be vacationing on the Southeastern Florida beaches on Christmas Day and wishes you an incredible Mindful Christmas!

Time Travel for the Holidays

I think I found the antidote, or at least a temporary fix, for being restless, irritable and discontented.

As with everything, getting out of myself is the ticket.  Last weekend, I decided to kick my bah-humbug attitude to the curb and head on over to one of Dallas’ hidden treasures.

Right outside downtown–literally across the interstate–is Dallas Heritage Village, a hamlet of buildings restored from the mid- to late-1800s and meant to show a close representation of what life in north Texas was like in that time period.

This year marked the 40th anniversary of Candlelight at Heritage Village, a time when the village is be-decked in Christmas finery and people in period costume stroll the grounds (occasionally breaking out in spontaneous holiday merriment).

The hours were good for my soul, especially the hayride around the village guided by a 1947 John Deere tractor (we opted for motorized over the slower moving Nip and Tuck, the village’s resident donkeys.  At least in a cart I don’t run the risk of sliding in dropped donkey doo.

Taking a step back in time, stopping to listen and observe while wandering about the candlelit town, brought a sense of peace to me.

God knows we can all use a little peace and quiet time, even if we have to go back a century or two to find it.

I must admit that the evening did create a bit of nostalgia for an old semi-regular Christmas tradition; that of spending an evening in the chilly hollers (an old hillbilly term meaning valleys) of Silver Dollar City in Branson, MO.

Nestled in the hills of the Ozark Mountains, this larger village houses an army of artisans who not only take over residency in the shops, but demonstrate their trades (like glass-blowing or candy-making) while children of all ages–yours truly among them in the not-so-distant past–watch in wonder and amazement.

I miss the scents of those Midwestern holiday nights, the air tinged with wassail and wood burning fires.  There are many things I miss during this time of year but part of the joy of memories is having them bound back when new experiences elicit reminders.

It’s nice to do a mental time trek, especially during the holidays.  Making new memories is nice too, but next time I’d love to find wassail at Dallas Heritage Village.  Just saying’ . . .

Wishing you days of peace during the holiday season.  Be good to yourself while you’re being good to others.

photo of Nip and Tuck courtesy of the Dallas Heritage Village blog site

The Mindful Addict

Let me be direct.  You have to read this book.

If you have any inclination at all toward learning how to be more mindful or to change your life through any sort of meditative practice, you must read this book.

The Mindful Addict:  A Memoir of the Awakening of a Spirit.

Good news:  You don’t have to be an addict to enjoy the book.

There is a man named Tom who, more than 40 years ago, lived a dream-like existence.  He lived and surfed in 1960s Hawaii when free love and drugs flowed in equal abundance.

Tom excelled at being a surfer and a drug user, so much so that his world eventually became controlled by drugs and he crossed that invisible line many of us know so well.  The line between user and addict.

Many of you know that I too am a person in recovery; you may also know that while I never want to forget the person I was and the things I did when active in my addiction, my preference is to focus on recovery and the present moment.

Tom and I have that in common.  He wrote The Mindful Addict:  A Memoir of the Awakening of a Spirit as a means of sharing his journey.  Tom’s gift helps me keep this thought uppermost in mind (taken from his preface), “We just have to be present and constantly give of ourselves as we walk through our lives.  That’s how we truly discover that our serenity is only and always a breath away.”

I read his book months ago, although I can’t recall how I came across the title.  I’m a book pursuer of the hopeless variety (just as Tom says he is an addict of the hopeless variety) so there is no telling how the book came to me.

I’m pretty sure it was a spiritual gift.

I was intrigued the moment I began to read.  There are many differences in Tom’s path and mine (in terms of how we reached the point of sobriety) but from the beginning, he hooked me.

While it’s true that Tom writes beautifully from breath-taking locales (which makes my writer knees grow weak with appreciation), he also speaks in the language that is so familiar to another recovering person.  We call it the language of the heart, one drunk or addict to another.

But that’s not why I finished reading the book.  It’s also not why I’m recommending the book to all my non-recovering friends.

The reason I ask you to head to Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble or even Target is because, “I define sanity as living in a place of love, living in the present moment.”

Those are Tom’s words and could be written for any one of us.

Living in the present moment is the basis of B Here Today.

Being present to each moment, each mindful moment, is a spiritual practice that Tom chronicles beautifully.

One message is clear:  it makes no difference your age, race or any of your social preferences, if you desire a mindful way of life, it is yours for the taking.

To my way of thinking, is there a better gift we can give ourselves?

Which takes me back to the spiritual gift of The Mindful Addict coming to me.

Some time after I finished the book, a work colleague asked our staff to keep an eye out for any recovery-related books for possible inclusion in an upcoming podcast series.  I immediately zipped off an email recommending The Mindful Addict.

Our folks contacted the publisher, who located Tom, and I was asked to work with him in shaping the podcast.  We’ve begun a Facebook friendship and my life is enriched.

I wish the same for you.  Buy one for yourself and for your mindful friends;  maybe even your not-so-mindful friends.  And please let me know what you think.  I’ll pass the word on to Tom.