Tag Archives: Happiness

Fighting For Fulfillment

Posted on by

A few minutes ago, as I was reading to Aiden before bed, I fell asleep between one page and the next. There was a long pause and Aiden asked, “Mama, why’d you stop?” My only response, “Oh, sorry, where was I?”  That is the state of exhaustion in which I find myself tonight while trying to write something insightful. I was discussing with a friend recently that every decision we make as adults seems to involve some amount of sacrifice. The question we face when making these decisions is, does the gain outweigh the loss? While in the early months of pregnancy, I find that the sacrifice for maintaining my personal goals and sanity seems to be utter exhaustion. Obviously, I believe the benefits of a stimulating conversation with a greatly missed friend till the wee hours of the morn outweigh the crushing fatigue that faces me the next day. Clearly, I think it is more important for me to keep writing consistently even when my bed is calling my name like a siren, than to wait for a refreshed and inspired moment to enlighten my readers with witty repartee. And it is certainly beneficial for me to continue reading for my book club even when sleep is crowding my vision.

But, while considering these things, I realized that this is not a unique problem of early pregnancy. My current battle may be with exhaustion, but there is always something that is encroaching on our time, energy, and commitment. We always have to fight for personal fulfillment and growth even when the activities that cultivate them sometimes feel like chores. Because without them, we stagnate. We sleep. We waste. If we are not striving to be better, even while sacrificing a certain amount of ease and comfort, then we become millstones around the necks of those we care about who are trying to grow. So keep fighting for the things that make you a better person, even when you would much rather be doing something else, because in the long run, you will find yourself changed, with a greater capacity for understanding, challenge, and new growth.

Wake Up Singing

Posted on by

I am continually amazed by the resilience of children. No matter what ails them, or what’s got them down, they are consistently a shining example of silver linings. My son and I have been sick with the same crud for over a week now and yet every morning, with what little voice he has after coughing much of the night, he wakes up singing. How can I not go to him smiling when I hear that? And this evening, after yet another movie that we watched together in bed (since that’s about all the play Mama can handle right now), he caressed my face and said, “I love you the whole, whole world, Mama,” wrapped his little arms around my neck and held me in that embrace for several minutes before he asked, “I helping you feel better, Mama?” Such a huge little heart! After melting mine with such soft sweetness, he got to have pancakes in my lap for supper followed by a long, hot bubble bath.

No matter how bad Aiden feels, although he may be somewhat more whinny than usual, he dredges up all of his happiness reserves and smiles and plays and brings light to any bad mood. Why are we, as adults, not more like this?  We get the slightest achy cold and we grump and whine and want to stay under the covers till we feel better. I find myself thinking, as I watch him, that maybe we would feel better if we made a bit more of an effort to feel better. If we saw every bad feeling as an opportunity for a silver lining.  If we stepped outside of ourselves, even when we’re down, and sought to encourage others, perhaps we would find ourselves encouraged.

Technological Sabbath

Posted on by

I have been seriously considering, as of late, implementing a regular technological sabbath for myself. A day of rest from the myriad of devices that connect us to everything under the sun. From what’s important to what’s completely irrelevant. From the beautiful to the terrible – the heroic to the mundane. We, more than any previous generation, have the world at our fingertips with all of its woes and inspirations, and the weight of it is immense. The burden of knowledge is great and the guilt of inability, although unjustified, can be just as great. We have computers in our pockets that can show us real-time video footage of the most recent natural disaster, civil war, or peace rally. They can look up, at our first thought of curiosity, the answer to any question, and yet we still feel confused. And even with such powerful tools always at our disposal to advance knowledge and personal development, we spend a huge portion of our time using them for frivolous and meaningless tasks like surfing the web, watching YouTube, playing Angry Birds, or browsing Facebook to keep up with our “friends.” If ever we find ourselves with a spare moment of quiet or stillness, out come the phones. Walk around in a public place and notice how many people around you are staring at a screen.

Don’t get me wrong – I love technology. It’s value is immeasurable and it is shaping the world today in ways many never dreamed possible. I just worry that we are attaining its prize at a rather high price. The loss of quiet contemplation and meditation. The inability to experience stillness without trying to fill it. The physical and mental release of curling up in a big chair with an actual book or crochet hook or guitar. Embarking on projects with our families that involve rakes and shovels or paints and brushes instead of remotes and ear buds. Hiking or biking without music or podcasts and simply our own thoughts to keep us company. But, as I contemplate all of this, the devil on my shoulder says, “Yes, those things are all very whimsical and beautiful, but every week? For a whole day? I don’t know. What if someone needs to get a hold of me? What if I need directions somewhere? What if . . . the world stops if I don’t pick up my phone or laptop multiple times a day?!?” My fear wreaks of addiction. There are so many ways to fill a day without the need for buttons. And I really believe I’d be happier if I set one day aside to shut down, breathe, and . . . reboot.

What do you think? Can it be done? Would you do it?

Music that Mends

Posted on by

Music is a powerful and potent mender of the soul and, in some ways, the body. It is transforming and uplifting and allows us to forget, in the moment we experience it, the stresses and aches of life that weigh us down. I attended a concert last night called “Music that Mends” and have found its title to be abundantly true lately. It was meant to be a benefit show for someone who is struggling and, although the crowd was small, the intimacy of those who did gather made the music that much more of a salve. I certainly do not have the struggles of the man for whom the concert was played, but my small stresses of money and home repairs, pregnancy and parenting, etc. paled as I sat and just listened. And watched the faces of those who were simultaneously touched by the same mood. It was, briefly, a soundtrack to life. Children giggling in the background, water flowing in the courtyard, people speaking softly, doors opening and closing. Even the birds joined in periodically. And it was lovely.

All of our weekend plans involved music and every night I had to convince myself, due to ever-increasing pregnancy nausea, to leave the house and follow through with them. Yet each night, in the presence of music and friendship, I was able to forget, temporarily, how sick I felt. Even the mediocre cover band at the burger joint where we met friends Friday night was enough to inspire Aiden and all of the other kids to dance and sing. Which, in turn, inspired us to smile and have the freedom to engage in good conversation and good food. As we left, Aiden said, “I like those guitar guys!” Likewise, the incredible food, fellowship, and fingerpickin’ of Saturday night’s cookout/jam session was just what the doctor ordered. So, my prescription for alleviating stress and its various side effects: get together with friends, add a little food, and TURN UP THE MUSIC. You’ll be grateful you did.

Dear Photograph

Posted on by

I recently discovered a blog so stunning in its representation of humanity, so beautiful in its display of memories, and so poignant in its confrontation of the past, that I decided to feature it here. Its idea aligns so well with that of nostalgia and not waiting until tomorrow to appreciate today. The blog is called Dear Photograph, and it’s concept is to “take a picture of a picture from the past in the present.”

Dear Photograph, At the time it was not common for a man to walk behind a pram. I’m still proud of my father. ~Eva Willemier Westra

People contribute photos from all over the world and each contribution is sent with a caption that is a message to the photo’s subjects or a commentary about the time period in which it was taken. The creator of Dear Photograph, 21-year-old Taylor Jones from Ontario, came up with the concept while sifting through some old snap shots of his own. He spontaneously took a picture of one of the photos he found which was taken in the very spot where he sat. And the idea was born. The project is so remarkable because it inspires people to not only revisit old memories, but to physically revisit the location of those memories, forcing them to travel to the past to confront it or embrace it, whichever the case may be. It puts the past in the context of the present and acknowledges what is gone and what has taken its place.

Dear Photograph, It’s nice to know that we loved each other once upon a time. ~Sam

If you spend even a few minutes at this site, you will be struck with an overwhelming desire to call your parents or send a letter to your grandpa. It is painfully obvious why it’s popularity skyrocketed to 1.2 million visitors within 3 weeks of its creation. It is breathtaking. Hope you are as mesmerized by it as I am.

Dear Photograph, For one brief moment, this murky little duck pond became the most beautiful place on earth. ~Greg