The Things We Take for Granted

I take things for granted. Most of us do, to some extent. I thought about this last night, as I sat at the kitchen table at ten o’ clock at night, helping my oldest son with a school assignment.

Now, my son Stephen is a very good kid – sweet, compassionate, and always happy – but he has a maddening quality: he is a procrastinator. If he has a project due, it is left for the last hour of the last day before it is due, leading, of course, to a mad dash and panic to get it done on time. I have tried to explain to him many times how he should pace himself, and try to set up a schedule to get things done, all to no avail. He means well, he really does, but he can’t help being a social butterfly and a bouncing ball when it comes to activities.

So, here I was last night, secretly boiling inside and pouting about the fact that another evening of mine was sacrificed to his social life; then a light went off.

I thought about all those kids who are sullen and withdrawn, isolated and unable to connect to others. I thought about the meaning of being a kid, and the demands society has on kids these days. I also thought about parents who have children with illnesses, the ones whose sons and daughters are confined in a hospital room, void of energy and preoccupied with issues they shouldn’t have to worry about at their young age. Those parents would give all their possessions to have a bubbly, smiling child, and their hearts would warm quickly if they could detect a small mischievous twinkle in their own kids’ eyes.

That’s when I realized how fortunate I am. My kids are not perfect – none of us is – but they are good, normal kids, who have been lucky enough to be born in a life void of hardship, in which they can live their childhood years worry-free, thinking about sports, games and girls.

I looked up from the paper and glimpsed at Stephen. He felt that I was staring at him, so he looked back at me a little puzzled. When he saw I was smiling he grinned and his eyes sparkled. I took his hand and told him I love him. We finished the assignment sooner than I thought. Stephen stood up and was ready to bolt out the room to go play with his brother, but before he got to the stairs he turned around and came to give me a hug. “Thank you for helping me, Mom” he breathed in my neck. “I love you”. Then he was gone.

I was no longer pouting. Suddenly, I was really excited about the future he, his brother and sister have ahead. They may not be the poster children for perfection, but they have good values, good thoughts, good hearts, and, most of all, they are happy children. The rest will come with time.

Delicious Expectation

"The pleasure of expecting enjoyment is often greater than that of obtaining it, and the completion of almost every wish is found a disappointment." ~ Samuel Johnson


As we were driving home last night, my son raised his eyes to the lottery billboard and whistled when he saw the staggering jackpot amount. "How much money do you think that is, Mom?" he asked with childlike curiosity. "Too much", I replied. "Yes," Michael interjected, "after winning a sum like that, one is set for life. His children and grandchildren will be, too. "

When he said that, the first image that popped in my head was that of a group of dysfunctional, unhappy individuals, so I shared my thought with my son. He agreed with me, and said that he doesn’t even enjoy stuff that much, unless he has saved up for it.

Our conversation led me to think back about my childhood years, when the mere thought of surprises on the way was enough to fill me with excitement and expectation. I loved Christmas eve as a child; that magical, thrilling time when one’s head filled with expectations and the heart was ripe with hopeful wishes. As excruciating as it was, waiting for the big day was painfully delicious. I still remember looking in awe at the pretty packages under the tree, and fantasizing about the content.

Then Christmas day came. We were happy, the tree was assaulted, the gifts opened, and the house was filled with cheerful thoughts and good wishes; yet, something was also a bit sad – another year had to pass before another Christmas. Though they were usually what we had petitioned for, the joy at seeing the actual gifts paled in comparison to the feeling of absolute wonder from the day before.

We often feel that we should expedite events in our lives, but we sadly forget to notice that the best part of achieving anything is indeed the expectation of receiving the blessing. If we take time to listen within, our energy in those moments is fueled by pure hope; if we could bottle up our excitement, and save it for a rainy day, life would be much simpler and enjoyable.

When looking ahead, the final destination is only one of the blessings of the journey; the rest of it – including expectations – is the part we must truly cherish and be thankful for. Disappointment can be a crash to the ego, but it can also open the door to creativity and motivate one to reach a lot further.

Heaven on Earth

“Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.” ~ Henry D. Thoreau


Although I’ve heard the expression ‘Heaven on earth’ many times, it was only yesterday that I realized how easily we misinterpret its meaning.

While I buy into the concept that to get to the light at the end of the tunnel one must first go through the tunnel, the cold tunnel we have gone through this year has felt endless – with sub-freezing temperatures almost everyday, and a pale sun too timid to overpower the icy grip of Old Man Winter, spring has felt like a fleeting dream which would never manifest. And instead, yesterday we finally poked our heads out to emerge into a meteorological paradise, one of those days one wants to mark on the calendar with a pink crayon. It was an amazing day – temperatures in the high sixties and bright sunshine to magically erase the gloom of the cold days gone by.

When my children got home from school, we decided to go to the park for a couple of hours. We packed a quick picnic and hopped in the car. When we pulled into the parking lot, I couldn’t believe the number of cars already there; the scene reminded me somehow of a Disney film – when Bambi was born in the spring, all the animals in the forest came out to see the new prince; Raleigh residents all came out to see if anything was new at the playground.

The kids ate and then ran off to play, while I sat on one of the benches and fished a book out of my purse. My phone rang a short while later, it was my husband calling to see what we were doing; my reply was a simple one: “We are in Heaven,” I said, “it’s amazing out here.”

After I hung up, I thought of what I said and what made me say it. Was it just the beautiful weather that had affected my perception of an ordinary day, or could it be that gradually I have come to a place in my life where I have learned to appreciate the small joys of a day playing in the sunshine? I looked around – everywhere were beautiful, smiling children and relaxed mothers, squirrels were scurrying about, and birds were making the most of a warm day in late winter. I felt like I was one with all the energy around, and the joy of it wasn’t really coming from the outside as much as it was originating within.

We can’t have a spring-like day in the winter all the time for, as my mother always said, it can’t be Christmas every day; but, maybe, we can “bottle-up” the joy of those moments and use it as a blueprint to create a slice of our own heaven on earth every day, the way children do. As I watched my kids squeal with joy on the way down the slide, drunk from a potion of youth and timeless oneness with their world in that moment, I understood the true meaning of Heaven on heart. A verse in the Bible perfectly reflects this powerful message: “Anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.”

Granted, it’s much easier to feel good on a beautiful day when everything seems to go the right way, but if we can appreciate being in the present moment, the light at the end of the tunnel instantly becomes closer and easier to reach, whether the sun is shining or a powerful storm is raging over us.

While happiness sometimes comes with a price tag, joy is a free ride we can get on over and over, if we just allow ourselves to see with our hearts and read between the lines of our daily chapters.

Have a Joyful New Year!

Good morning everybody, and a joyful New Year to you and your families!

As 2010 has finally opened the doors to a whole new chapter, let's do our best to focus our energy on ushering in the right guests. With the hardship many have encountered in 2009, it is normal to feel a little apprehensive and discouraged, but we should at least try to invest our efforts and thoughts on the things we want, rather than on those we don't want in our lives.

As we peek our heads out and greet the newly born 2010, I wish all of you a joyful New Year instead than a happy one. Happiness is dependable on the influence of external factors, and it fluctuates with the winds of fate; joy is a stable refuge in the midst of the storm, and nothing can dim its light.

So, have a joyful New Year, and as someone posted on my profile on a different site, may 2010 be a wonderful new journey, one we won't travel alone but as one.

Through the Eyes of a Child

“A joyful heart is the inevitable result of a heart burning with love.” ~ Mother Teresa

When I went to pick up my daughter from pre-school yesterday, I found her in the reading corner looking at picture books with another child. I saw her pointing at one of the pictures in the book she was holding and laughing, and I wondered what she found funny in it - it was a picture of baby Jesus in the manger, surrounded by the three wise men bearing gifts.

Her teacher came along, took the book from her, and told her that it wasn’t a funny book and she shouldn’t be laughing at the pictures in it. I was stunned. Not by the fact that a small child was laughing at a picture, mind you, but at the thought that an adult allegedly trained to deal with children couldn’t tell the difference between a derisive laugh and an expression of joy. The two kids were enjoying the pictures, and looking at them made them happy; the fact alone that they would erupt into random laughter without a reason apparent to adults could possibly only be explained by the one grown-up person on earth who shares a child-like spirit, the Dalai Lama.

Inner joy is not something planned or in any way related to outside influences, but an inner state which is self-feeding and self-propagating. So, should we really teach our children that it is not okay to be joyful?

Having been raised in a fairly conservative environment, I am very familiar with – and a strong supporter of – self-discipline; I believe that one should not allow emotions to cloud our better judgment and get in the way of sound decisions set in place for our greater good, yet I believe that inner joy is such an asset that it should never be stifled.

A joyful person is always joyful, regardless of what’s happening in the outside world; even when trying events take place, the upset is only momentary, and the mood quickly shifts back to its natural state because joy stems from within and it’s barely stroked by circumstances. Many confuse happiness with joy, but the two are about as alike as silk and satin – both are soft and pleasant to the touch, but their origin and overall nature are different. Happiness can be exhilarating, but it is not constant. It shifts with the outside currents and can easily come and go depending on the presence – or lack – of external feeds.

Unless traumatized by unfriendly circumstances, children are joyful until adults get in the way telling them it is wrong to feel that way. A large portion of adults act foolish in the attempt of recapturing the essence of joy they felt as children, but they unfortunately seek joy where only happiness can be found. When the link to joy is criticized or abruptly interrupted, the child quickly looks for the closest substitute, happiness from the outside world.

When we walked outside, I asked my daughter what made her laugh while looking at the book. She looked at me with a twinkle in her eyes and said: “It was a picture of baby Jesus, Mommy; He was so cute that I wanted to hold Him.”

Holiday Blues

When we think of holidays, the first thing that comes to mind is the time we will spend with our loved ones, but what happens when our loved ones are no longer there to share the cheer? As happy and cheerful as the holiday season is for some, it is probably the hardest time of year for those who have lost someone they love.

Several years ago – when I first moved to the US, far away from most I hold dear – a friend gave me a small book entitled “There’s No Such Place As Far Away” by Richard Bach. I didn’t touch it for a while; then, one morning, as I was sitting alone in my empty apartment, feeling alone and disconnected from everyone, I picked the little book up and began to read. It was the story of a little boy who had moved really far away from his best friend. On the day of his friend’s birthday he wanted to celebrate with him, and the pain he felt in his heart, being so far away, was overwhelming and unbearable. He asked several birds if they could help him get to his friend’s house, and all of them told him they were too small to carry him or they had other things to do. Finally, a wise bird told the little boy: “If you truly love your friend, aren’t you already there with him? The only thing that separates you from him is space, and space is never larger than love.” The little boy thought about it for a while, then realized the bird was right. His friend loved him, and knew he was loved back; most of all, his friend would not want him to be sad on such a special day; the best thing the little boy could do would be to look in his heart and find the joy his friend’s birthday brought to him, whether they could spend it together or not. So the little boy went on about his day, wishing his friend a happy birthday and knowing that, even if they were apart, their memories joined them forever.

True love and friendship cannot be cut short by boundaries of time, space or form. When we truly love someone, we can still be with them through the power of the memories built together and know they will never leave us, as the sound of their voice will forever echo through the walls of our hearts.

Our loved ones would not want to see us unhappy; although they crossed over and shed their outer shell, their true essence is still with us, and the love they felt for us is still alive. Rather than feeling guilty or empty at the thought of celebrating a special day without them, we should make it a point to celebrate it in their honor. A Christmas song, or a Thanksgiving meal, should not be daggers in the heart, but chances to reminisce the happy moments we spent with our loved ones while they were still with us; a beautiful array of decorations should not feel like an insult to our grief, but remind us of the times we decked the halls together.

By letting go of the pain we are not letting go of the love for the person who’s no longer with us. The grief we feel is an invisible chain we hang on to in the hope of remaining connected somehow, a silver cord which prevents us from separating completely. Although we may feel as if we are shamefully betraying our loved ones by daring to be happy without them, we are instead honoring their memory by infusing life into a moment they would love to share with us, and we can respectfully thank them for the beautiful memories they have gifted us with.

The Power of Choice

“Happiness is not a matter of events, it depends upon the tides of the mind.” ~ Alice Meynell

When I was a little girl, my grandmother used to take me to ride my bike at a park near my house. One day, I fell and scraped both knees. After helping me get up, and brushing off the dirt of my bloody legs, my grandmother smiled and said: “Well, aren’t you the lucky one?” I looked at her in disbelief…here I was, one scratch away from needing stitches, and the woman was telling me I was lucky! Could she be mentally ill? Even at that young age, I remember wondering if she was going mad.

Noticing my confused frown, she explained: “Look at it this way, young lady, you could have fallen and busted your head instead. I think you were pretty lucky.” Although I still had a few doubts about her sanity, those words appealed to my young mind. She was right after all – no matter how desperate the situation seemed at the moment, it could have been worse.

From that day on, my glass was most always half full. Yes, bad stuff continued to happen on occasion, but was it the absolute worst it could be? That newfound attitude saved me a lot of heartache while going through the teen years, and it truly helped me see that events are only as bad as we paint them in our minds.

To this day, every morning, I pray for one thing: to keep my inner balance alive, and see every obstacle as an opportunity. It doesn’t matter what kind of day I’ve had – at the end of it, I always feel it was a day worth living. True power is not in dominating events unfolding around us, but rather is the ability of not allowing those events to affect our core of emotions.

One of the best tricks to balance the scale is to focus our attention on a happy memory. For me, as an example, thinking of the when my younger son caught a big fish on his first fishing trip really does wonders. He was so happy! That image will forever be forged in my mind. If I think of that, and really try to concentrate on the intensity of the feeling and the brightness of his smile, I can immediately feel tension melt away. Once I have a grip on my emotions again, I continue to focus on positive thoughts, and my day magically shifts.

Hanging on to resentment or negative thoughts feeds our illusion of needing to remain angry in order to punctuate the magnitude of the event, but it is really not necessary. Dangling on the brink of a precipice has never helped anyone find solutions.

We feel inclined to change the décor of our environment if the style no longer suits us, or makes us feel uncomfortable. We remove an object and replace it with one we like more – why not do the same with our thoughts?