And Don't Forget to Be Happy

For a number of years, I've struggled with understanding happiness: how to be happy, specifically; that while you can be very happy, there's a definite difference between passive and active happiness; and, understanding that happiness is not just innate and automatic most of the time.


That's a hard realization, I've discovered: finding out that once things are "set" (whatever "set" may be for you), happiness isn't automatically included. Happiness, it turns out, is not part of the "set" package. It's a value-add that you actually have to decide on "purchasing." It's like some insurance; the insurance can be a great idea and is sometimes a life-saver, but is not automatically included.

And you do have to "purchase" happiness, in a sense. You have to want it, and in wanting it, you have to work towards it. Since happiness isn't automatic and won't just happen, you have to learn, through trial, what really makes you happy.

And then, you have to Do. Those. Things.

You're essentially "purchasing" your happiness: putting time and energy into things that you know will pay off handsomely when it comes to your mental and physical health. Life will be better if you try to be happy, even if it seems to be terrible right now.

Happiness, it turns out, is a lot like relationships. Or plants. Or pets. Or, I imagine, kids. You have to nurture happiness to have enough of it or . . . realize one day that you miss it. At least that void is fixed easily enough. (One caveat: mental illness is a completely different beast; thus and such, the rules for returning to true happiness are completely different--and this blog post will not address those.)

And so, I'm going to revisit a tried and true list of things that make me happy and enjoy my evening with the wonderful man in my life, another glass of wine, a book and a great little, purring fuzzball. And remember to "purchase" my happy.

Someday, When I'm a Mother

I'm going to need to remember that this post exists. Because my children, and especially my daughter(s ?), will need to hear it.

Stand up. Stand out. Be smart and strong. It may be some time before you find the one who can appreciate who you are. So be it. Settle for nothing less. Because if your heart must rest in the hands of another man, I want him to be a man strong enough to love a strong woman.

I needed to hear it. I didn't. Or if I did, I didn't believe the speaker.

Now, when I'm told similar things, I believe the speaker. I know the one telling me (whomever it may be) has my best interest at heart, wants to see me happy and wants to do whatever she/he can do to help me get there.

And that makes me very happy.

Dogwoods, Dinner and Dancing

Went to visit my littlest sis yesterday; since she and the hubster have moved back to the east coast, and they're just an hour and a half away, there's really no excuse, these days.

Decided to go to Umstead Park to canoe around the lake, only to find out that Umstead has two entrances and we came in the wrong one to get to the lake. So we hiked "Inspiration Loop," (not so inspiring, if you ask me) and took some photos and read little placards about trees.

Dinner was with the Park Alum from NCSU at 18 Seaboard in Raleigh. I hadn't realized the Park program was so new; I thought it had been around as long as the Morehead Scholars (now the Morehead-Cain Scholars) program. Alas, that is not the case. The 10th class of Park Scholars is about to graduate, and so, I was one of the oldest in the room. Many Park have moved away from the area (not surprisingly), but the dinner was overbooked, so that bodes well for the newly formed group.

I can't say much for 18 Seaboard. I think this restaurant has a lot of potential and they have an amazing wine list (they've got my Qupe Syrah), but the food really didn't live up to my expectations. Sauteed spinach was awesome, but if I'm paying that much for dinner, the steak ought to be, too. It wasn't.

The evening continued with the "social dance" part of ballroom dance. (For those of you who don't know, my sister is a WONDERFUL ballroom dancer. Wins awards and stuff. Yeah, that good. Watch her here at a competition in 2007.)

I concede to go, thinking, "Ok, I've got no idea how to do any of these dances, but I can appreciate watching dancing, so I'll just do that."

RIGHT.

Turns out you really don't have to have much of a clue of what you're doing to swing (either east coast or west coast) or lindy or salsa or bachata or meringue. Because I was doing all of that - basically - by the end of the night. With the parade of men who kept asking. Almost every single song.

Now, here's my fuss about the rules: If you just look creepy to me and I turn you down for a dance, I shouldn't be penalized for doing so. (Technically, if you turn someone down for a dance, you're not supposed to do that particular style of dance any longer. Ha.) It's not my fault my creep meter goes off. For all I know, you're going to stalk me back to wherever I live and kill me in my sleep. I'm not gonna give you that opportunity to develop such an obsession with me. Sorry. Deal with it.

French toast for breakfast, church at St. Andrew's and lunch at the mexican joint around the corner.

Quality girl time; every second of it needed. (Thanks, hon.)

Happiness is . . .

Really cheap, real-life garden porn. Yes, now I've got quite a few still healthy and

viable pansies to plant tomorrow.

The decorated giant chocolate chip Valentine's cookies that Mom & I made yesterday evening. Yes, it's silly. Yes, they're decorated badly (hey, we'd had more than a few glasses of wine by that point). Yes, the email she sent earlier in the week about planning an evening to make the cookies made me cry, because we haven't done this since I was, oh, maybe 6 years old and I LOVED IT. It was the one thing about Valentine's that made me question my intense hate for the "holiday."

Don't get me wrong. Valentine's can be beyond fabulous, I'm sure. But it's never been beyond fabulous for me. (Let me caveat that by saying that I had a wonderful Girls Night Out this past Valentine's and it takes the cake, so far, no contest.)

My hate for Valentine's probably has something to do with realizing I was one of, oh, maybe two kids in class of 25, that only got two or three stupid valentines from the other kids in the class. And this happened year after year. And it was worse when teachers made it mandatory that you bring valentines for EVERYONE and announced it to the class, because that's oh-so-good for your self-esteem: getting a bag of valentines from people who didn't want to give them to you in the first place.

And I'll spare you my thoughts about middle school and high school. Just take the above feeling and apply to adolescence. Yeah.

The Recipe for a Fabulous 2008 (aka, The List for 2008)

All right. So I'm a little late in posting this. I'm doing better than I did last year, when I posted my list in Feburary. And since I'm convinced this is going to be my year (you'd not believe the number of people who've agreed with that statement; I love it), and I know that I have some part in that (Gee, really? No!), I figured I ought to sit down to decide what I could do to make it even more fabulous. So, drumroll please . . .

The List for 2008

(thankfully, with SMART goals, this time)

1) Be good to myself. I've only got one life and if my body or mind isn't healthy and happy during that time, I've also got the power to fix that. Thus, I'll:
a) Keep myself physically healthy/make myself healthier. (Note: This does not mean lose weight. In fact, I could probably stand to gain some weight. It is not a goal of mine to lose weight nor will it ever be, I think. I'm very blessed with the genetics I've got.) To that end, I'll:
- Take my vitamins everyday.
I need to take some to the office, because I tend to be better at taking them there. (I'm open to advice on this. I'd take them at the same time everyday, but while I'm a girl who likes predictability, I have no set pattern in the morning. I hope I never do.)
- Lift weights 2x a week.
Really, there's no point in me paying for the YMCA membership if I'm not going to use it for that. And. maybe, just maybe I can get myself off the old-lady medicine if I'm good about the weights and calcium this year.
- Do cardio 3x a week.
(See mention about YMCA membership above.) Oh, and I'd like to walk up the stairs at the office without being out of breath. It's one flight, for heaven's sake!)

b) Keep myself mentally healthy. Ergo, I'll:
- Do yoga 2x a week.
Not much quiets my mind as much as yoga, and it usually makes most of the knots in my back go away.
- Journal as needed, not just as the spirit moves me.
Yes, I've avoided my personal writing on occasion during the past three months because I didn't want to write what was going to come out. No, it didn't make it any easier when I wrote it finally, later. Nobody's subconcious is pretty and neat, and ignoring the problem, whatever it may be, will not make it go away.
- Do the crossword 2x a week.
Nothing better for a writer to do than to continue to try and integrate more words and phrases into one's vocabulary.

2) Have more fun. Why shouldn't this be a goal? So I'll:
- Go see some local art at least once a month.
Good thing I live in the City of the Arts.
- Have at least three parties.
I love them. They're fun. Yeah, they're also a little stressful, but it's all about the end game here, people. And I haven't thrown nearly enough parties in my life.
- Go to the beach at least once. Preferrably on less than 48-hours notice. In the United States.
I've got no reason not to do this. Love Charleston. Love Wilmington. I can get $10 flights to Ft. Lauderdale. I have a travel certificate that I could use in Destin, FL; Daytona Beach; Ft. Lauderdale; Myrtle Beach; San Francisco; Palm Springs, CA; Oceanside, CA; St. Thomas; or Honolulu. I've got no excuse.
- Go dancing, at least once, where I create the opportunity instead of letting it come to me.
- Read at least 2 books a month.
This ought to be easy. I've got enough unread books in my house to keep me busy for at least the next two years. Luckily, I've already finished one for January: Leap of Faith, by Queen Noor, and I'll be reading Three Cups of Tea next.

3) Nanowrimo, again! I really enjoyed it and I've got a book to prove it. So ...
- Edit and submit the Nano 2007 manuscript to a publisher.
(Deb, you'll get it by February!)
- Participate in and finish Nano 2008.

4) Increase my net worth.
Thankfully, unless my life really screws up (which will not happen - it's 2008, and it's my year, thank you), I'll already have increased my net worth because I've got the automatic draft set for the 401(k) and I'll be building equity in the house. The idea is to increase my net worth by more than just that amount. So, I'll . . .
- Make a budget and stick to it.
It's about damn time that I learned this well. I know it and I'm not bad at it, but I'm all sorts of jealous of people who are really good at it.
- Not take money out of the savings account, unless I've really got to.- Not take money out of the investment account I just funded, unless I've really got to.
(This would happen after the savings account, since it's not nearly as liquid.)
- Spend less than $XXX on food.
You would be appalled to know how much money I spend on food that I don't cook in my own home. I am. Which is why I'm not telling you what that number is.

5) Get my APR.
I meet the requirements to sit for it. I don't even have to pay for it. Might as well try, at least.

So, that's it. I think it's enough. It might be too much, but I think it's all a worthwhile endeavor. And so far, I'm doing pretty well.

Food for thought

From the RevolutionHealth.com website:

"A healthy relationship must have the following characteristics:
- physical chemistry or affection
- real intimacy
- fun
- safety, trust and security with the other person
- mutual respect."

Of the many thoughts I have about this, the only one appropriate for this medium is this: Wow.

Happiness, Joy and Thankfulness: Part I

It has turned out to be a great week (regardless of my stagnant NaNo count: 22,700ish). It didn’t necessarily start that way, but it certainly has become one that I really am happy about. It’s given me a lot of reason to think about happiness, joy and thankfulness.

Deciding what makes me happy (or at least adding to that list) has been a large part of what I’ve been trying to accomplish over the past several months. I’ve always known some things make me happy: sunsets, flowers, the smell of dew on a spring morning, a walk in the fog by the creek, spending time with friends, the birdsong that wakes me in the morning. But the journey of trying to figure out what makes one happy, I think, might be simply about accepting the feeling of happiness from those moments in life.

Not so surprisingly, the fact that I’ve been thinking about what makes me happy got me into a conversation about such with a good friend of mine. We’re a lot alike; the synchronicity that results from that is scary sometimes, but in this case it gave me a bit of perspective about my happiness that I didn’t have yet. That perspective has helped me begin to realize more of what I am happy about – or perhaps more correctly, that which would make me happy if I allowed it.

This conversation devolved into a list, as I’d venture to say such conversations are wont to do. Here’s a smattering of that list; of course, it’s an agglomeration of the conversation and I certainly can’t take all the credit for the part of list that appears here:

Family, good friends, seeing your breath in the morning's first light as the sun just starts to peak over the horizon, the stars, the low rumble of a kitty purr on your chest. The Annual Yarborough Chicken Stew. A good book. Beethoven. Mozart, to some degree, but certainly Ella Fitzgerald. Good concerts. Knowing that somewhere, somehow, someday, someone loves you more than you will ever know or will ever deserve. Love. Holidays. Finally having a clean house. Real hugs. Not the hugs that casual friends give when meeting, but the hugs that feel as if they are trying to hold in all of the good feelings while squeezing out all of the bad ones. Cajun crab dip and water crackers. Mexican food. Pizza. The smell of summer. The ocean. The mountains. Camp fires. Cookouts. Massages. Being alone. Being with everyone who loves you. Sitting in the hot tub. Playing in the rain. The smell of star-gazer lilies. Pictures of friends and family. Finding a great piece of art. Being able to afford that piece of art. Coffee. Good pancakes. The smell of pumpkin candles in the fall, cinnamon candles in the winter. Getting drunk with your friends and knowing they won't hold it against you. Good wine. Most parties. Long phone conversations with your siblings. Fixing the computer. Fixing stuff around the house without needing help. Knowing you can do that without needing help. Being able to negotiate well. Singing your favorite hymns. Singing in the car. Wake Forest's Annual Community Lovefeast, after they cut the lights off at the end and everyone sings "Morning Star." Knowing what a Moravian Star is and having one because you appreciate its meaning. An old typewriter that works. Watching families reunite at the end of the concourse at the airport. Real conversations. Appreciating the bad because it brings out the good. Finally settling into a really difficult yoga pose after months of working on it. Achieving your goals. Finishing the triathlon. Swimming. Realizing you solved a pretty serious problem while you were swimming. Libraries. Book sales. A genuine smile from a stranger. Knowing that your in-laws (the ones you got from your siblings) like you, even if they do think you're weird. Being a little weird. Loving it because it makes you, you.

That list of things that makes me happy got even longer this week. Yes, I’d say it’s a direct result of Thanksgiving (and a few other things that happened). I can now add this to it:

Happening upon a dear old friend in Best Buy. Finding something you’ve been looking for. Finding something you’d lost. Celebrating the return of something that was lost. Making a hard decision and knowing you’re right about it, the second after it’s made. Hearing this, upon entering the house at which you’re celebrating thanksgiving, because it’s so darn funny: “Happy Thanksgiving! And what type of alcohol would you like to start with?” Doing something to be able to say you’ve done it. Helping out. The Salvation Army bell ringers. Movies (but not scary ones) . . .

What would you add to the list?