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June 7, 2015 In appreciation, life and the universe, optimism, photography, work and play By Patricia Saxton

Tea, Guacamole and A Blanket

Intention: Early morning Sun Salutations. Long walks along the shore; the wide, cream-colored beach hedged by flowering dunes and solid, old homes with weathered shingles and thick white pillars holding up wrap-around porches. Bike rides and ice cream and warm sea breezes fueling inspirations that spread themselves like butter, page after page, in my notebooks. Skin, tingling and alive from the surf and the sun. Hair in happy, salty tangles. Laughter as the sun makes long shadows in the sand and friends share a toast to the tides; to each other; to the red glow on our shoulders (pass the aloe, please). Meditations under the moon; breaths keeping time with the rumbling, tumbling, humbling waves.

Reality: Early morning drizzle followed by chilly, windy torrents. Cold; did I mention, cold? My giant-sized, fluffy red blanket and I step, daily, onto the thick-pillar-adorned porch to admire the angry sea’s spectacular beauty; this week she’s a pounding, twisting, frothy tempest. My blanket-bundled self takes 20 yard walks to the bench at the top of the beach, finds a dry-ish spot to watch the sky for signs of sunshine. Friends arrive, singing “the sun’ll come out, tomorrow…”. My girls, generally hunkered down with their laptops and phones, are otherwise perfecting their omelette and smoothie-making skills. We eat exorbitant amounts of whole-wheat tortilla chips with guacamole dip. We find that Scotty’s fresh flounder tastes just as good in stormy weather as it does in good weather. Thank goodness I remembered to pack the Scrabble board and card decks. And my red blanket.

But still, it’s not enough to see the sea, I need to stand close, near the edge (but not so near to risk dipping my blanket in the surf) ~ so we venture time and again onto the wide, cream-colored coastline and marvel at the ocean’s extraordinary magnificence. My blanket and I enjoy tea under the eaves by the flowering dunes. We read. We take pictures and post them on Instagram. During a break in the unforgiving wind and rain we settle into a comfy spot on the soft sand and attempt to write in my notebook.

Drip.

Drop.

“Oh cruel fate . . . why do you mock me?”

Surrender.

So it’s short walks, no bikes. Ice cream, no warm breezes. Writing inside, not out. Skip the aloe. And despite the lack of shadows for five straight days, we do laugh; and we share toasts to the tides, and, mostly, to each other.

saxton_mygirlsonbeach

saxton_blanket.sea

“Serenely full, the epicure would say, Fate cannot harm me; I have dined to-day.”
– Sydney Smith (1771 – 1845)

March 1, 2015 In appreciation, craftsmanship, creativity, imagination, inspiration, life and the universe, optimism, philosophy, words and language By Patricia Saxton

Outrageous Happiness #16: Purple Doors and Other Beautiful Things

As the snow rages on here in the northeast, winter stubbornly insisting on showing its power over mortal beings, my discontent (affectionately called cabin fever) is assuaged by firewood and chocolate and beautiful things.

Because beauty, even in the middle of winter, is always within arms reach. The snowfall itself is a thing of beauty; but even then, yes, one gets restless for gardens and seagulls and afternoons on the porch. So I find bits of joy and comfort in things out of reach ~ things I can imagine, or dream of, or plan for. And somehow, just knowing that the purple doors below exist somewhere makes me happy.

Right, right, things, in and of themselves, do not “make us happy”. And what an empty existence it would be if we prized things over love, laughter and companionship. But our hearts can make us happy, and things can touch our hearts. Beautiful things.

Like a gorgeously purple garden gate, detailed by someone’s skilled hand. Like a well-made chest of drawers, or a child’s painting. An exquisite vase, a red cardinal on a branch, the smell of muffins in the oven, a tulip field, a perfectly comfortable chair with a lovely covering. All things of beauty in their way – expressions of love, a medium for experiencing this life with all the senses; to touch and see and hear and feel the endless multitudes of tastes and textures we have the opportunity to know.

What is life if not for diving in to sample its delicious variety. And what magnitude abounds! Even if we can’t see, hear or touch every bit, we can appreciate God’s – the Universe’s – the Great Creator’s – handiwork at every single turn. And the fruits of our own labors, too – the music, the art, the dance, the carefully crafted violin, the windmill, the garden gate.

We can appreciate the lush carpet beneath our feet, whether made of wool or sand or heather.

And when we do that, when we step out of our daily this-or-that, when we unclench our engagement with what’s wrong or what doesn’t feel good or what hurts or what’s bothersome, we elevate our experience. And what can be faulty with that?

We’re only here for an instant. We can believe it’s to struggle and fight, or we can believe it’s to learn and uplift. We can admire and expand, or we can shut down. We can stay small or we can let our spirits breathe large. We can be held captive by the world’s ills, or we can spread more light.

Beauty, and beautiful things, are a physical gift for our human experience. Seek beauty. Surround yourself. And let purple doors and other beautiful things do what they’re meant to do; nurture and inspire.

How’s your Outrageous Happiness going?

……………………

PS: I haven’t been able to find the original source for these 2 photos. They are not my own, and I would love to give proper credit if anyone knows.

October 1, 2014 In appreciation, art, creativity, inspiration, optimism, philosophy By Patricia Saxton

Outrageous Happiness #10: Traffic Magic

Sitting out in the sunshine this past weekend, with a book, a cup of tea, taking in the joy of late-September’s gloriousness, looking up at the first real sparks of color in the changing leaves against a clear cobalt sky, I think to myself: I sure am glad I’m not sitting in traffic right now. Why traffic would pop into my mind at a moment like this, I cannot say. Of course, yes, I also think how beautiful it all is. I’m glad I’m here. Not in traffic. And I’m reminded of the time…

My daughter and I were driving back from a wedding. Cruising the 8 hour stretch from Ohio across the Pennsylvania heartland. We may have been singing “I’ve Been Working On The Railroad” to pass the time.

We were super tired. Anxious to be off the road, home and near our pillows, when an hour and a half before “home” we come to a grinding halt. Cars lined up for miles. You know the drill. No where to go, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, you’re just there. I begin to fume. Steam shoots from my ears. Shrill words come from my mouth. Hand bangs against the steering wheel. My daughter chimes in. We sit. And we sit. The car doesn’t move more than a foot at a time. We’re miserable humans stuck at the tail-end of the Pennsylvania Turnpike with a bunch of other miserable humans.

It was then that a touch of insanity arrived. I snapped. “You know what, sweetie? This is great. No, I mean this is SO great. This is so great I can hardly believe it! This is exactly where we’re supposed to be, and sitting here, trapped on this highway, is absolutely WONDERFUL! This is FANTASTIC!”

Utterance from the back seat: “Mom, are you okay?”

“YESSSS!”, I shout with delight. “I’m GREAT!”

“Mom?”

“No, really. This is perfect. Don’t you see? This is the best place we could possibly be right now. Sitting here. In our car. Miles from home in a super-sized traffic jam. It’s perfect! I’m so happy we’re here. Aren’t you? I mean, who knows why, but this is where we’re meant to be, so why not embrace that? It’s crazy but it’s true! I’m loving it. Loving the traffic. Loving the road! Loving the other cars with all the other miserable humans inside feeling their miserable thoughts! If only they knew. This is so awesome, hun!”

“O-kaaaay…?”

“Really. It’s more than okay. And pretty soon, the traffic is gonna move and we’re gonna move and then we’ll be on our way and before you know it, we’ll be home near our pillows. We’re gonna travel safely and smoothly. Everyone here’s gonna travel smoothly and safely! The traffic’s gonna move, just you watch. It’ll move exactly at the right time. I can feel it. I just know it. It’s all so right. This is GREAT!!! Smoothly and safely. It’s all gonna move. It’s all good. It’s just as it’s mean to be. And pretty soon….”

And don’t you know, the traffic started to move. Smoothly and safely.

Coincidence, sure …. but it had me convinced that magic had indeed transpired. Nor would it be the first nor the last time that “traffic magic” cast a good spell.

Ah well. Wizardry or not, it was still pretty fine to be enjoying the cloudless sky and shimmering color and warmth of the sun on my skin, instead of aimlessly burning fossil fuel on a highway somewhere. And all these little joys shone through… The last ripe pepper on the vine, the fully-pumped tires on my bike, butterflies dining on zinnia’s. A cup of tea, a good book. And right then, that was exactly where I was meant to be.

Isn’t it the truth; sometimes the simplest things are the most outrageously uplifting.

How’s your Outrageous Happiness going?

September 21, 2014 In appreciation, art, creativity, inspiration, optimism, philosophy By Patricia Saxton

Outrageous Happiness #9: Behaving Badly

I had a pretty happy childhood. Excluding my brothers’ taunts, of course, about my report cards and the shape of my feet. Although, these latter attacks were counteracted: “Indian feet” my Uncle Paul told me, with arches so high and feet slightly pigeon-toed, he said it made me walk soundlessly and properly, the way an Indian would. Being the eternal optimist I chose to believe my Uncle’s version.

(But I jest, brothers… for the record, you’ve been just right.)

In any event, back to the childhood. I have many fond memories, but one that randomly popped out today is laughing in church with my Aunt Gina. (no relation to Uncle Paul, in case you were wondering.) What made this such a wonderful experience is that a.) my Aunt was one of the sweetest people ever to walk this earth, with never an unkind word and always erring to the polite and “right” thing to do and b.) this was not the “right” thing to do.

I have no recollection as to what set us off, except that I’m positive it was a particularly somber, serious moment, which made it all so wrong when I felt my shoulders bob with stifled giggles, only to glance over at my Aunt who was clearly tight-lipped trying to contain her own, and then she looked at me looking at her and it took every, I mean, every, ounce of restraint from each of us not to snort and cackle for the whole crowd to hear. Which, naturally, made our giggles exponentially worse. (No doubt many of you have had a similar experience.) I was sure the bench was shaking. Oh the dread! An out and out laughing fit right then and there. In church. Completely inappropriate. Devilishly fun. I can still laugh thinking of it. Shared joy in our behaving badly.

What this is all leading me to, though, is not memory lane as much as the idea of breaking rules. The whole “life is short” scenario. Making sure to have some fun along the way, which sometimes involves rule-bending. (of course, never, ever, involving harm to others.)

Maybe it’s a food fight. Maybe it’s the hot fudge sundaes my daughter and I sometimes have for breakfast on Sunday (makes sense to me!). Maybe it’s taking a sick day to go fishing or rock climbing or to sit and read a book on the beach. It’s the spontaneous trip to Arizona that lasts two seasons. It’s jumping in the pool with your clothes on. Off the high dive. Taking a left turn instead of a right. Owning a convertible at least once in your life. Staying up late, getting up early, sleeping in the afternoon. Eating the damn cupcake just because you want to. Being the first one on the dance floor. Laughing in church with someone you love.

Be just a little outrageous. Break a rule or two while you’re here; for happiness’ sake.

How’s your Outrageous Happiness going?

September 16, 2014 In appreciation, leadership, life and the universe, optimism By Patricia Saxton

Trusting

I’ve found it hard to post my usual posts lately, the ones about creating happiness, about the joys of art, writing and such, knowing, as we all do, about the pain, anguish and atrocities going on out there in the world. So I just wanted to take a moment to acknowledge. These are severe times in many ways. Talking about painting seems somehow trite.

Yet we go back to our Facebook pages and homework and poetry writing and “what’s for dinner” because what’s out there is all too ugly to mentally sustain ~ and what the hell would we do anyway? Aren’t there Leaders to handle this kind of thing? Sadly, I see no leaders…. and then a troubling cycle of thought threatens to ensue, poised on all the madness.

The thing is, when it comes to the Really Big Stuff in the world, it’s as though I simply can’t process it fully. I can feel horrified. I can feel disgust. I can feel really, really disturbed. But I can’t fully engage. Maybe it’s a form of self-preservation – as if to think on it too hard and long, to dwell, is too intense an exercise. A debilitating merry-go-round of worry and fear. Contemplating ruined lives and sabotaged events is too heavy a weight.

Is it my artistic temperament? My sensitivity that can’t handle it? I’ll think, “but am I turning the other cheek?” Am I uncaring, or selfishly absorbed in “my own little world”? “Shouldn’t I be doing something?” Is it some kind of cosmic guilt, a tripped-up compassionate pulse that I should enjoy a good meal while thousands of people across the globe struggle in unthinkable situations? That I landed where I did in this life, and they did not?

But I always come back to 2 things: 1.) an eternal optimism I seem to have been born with (or maybe it was nurtured in, or both) and 2.) maybe I can do something and maybe I am doing something, even if it’s not measurably touching the great mass of humanity… by taking care of my corner, and spread light there. Because that’s what I feel I can do.

I was raised to believe (and I do believe) that it really does matter what you do in your own little corner of the world. (And this belief, you may already know, was the basis of my 52 Weeks of Peace book / series. It’s about what we can do as individuals, right here and right now. And if we all did…)

Fretting and stewing about world events, the disgraces of humanity that exist, the evil-doers, the lies and deceit and manipulation, is unproductive for me personally; nor does it serve anyone. It’s way bigger than me, and to go there with too much prolonged fervor only makes me feel powerless to help, filling a space with negativity and projecting dread where there could be light ~ and I operate SO MUCH BETTER from a place of light.

And God knows we need more light in this world.

When it comes to fretting and stewing about my own place in the world, or how the bills get paid and other earthly challenges we all face at one time or another, the same thing applies – I operate SO MUCH BETTER from a place of light.

Oh believe me, (and I know I’ve said this before and probably will again) I can worry like the best of them, but at some point I return to some sort of peace ~ because I have to. As if I’m wired that way. To have faith. In life. In love. In light. It’s my call to arms.

After years of practice, it’s almost become a type of daily surrender. Trusting. And so far, unless I’m deluding myself, it feels like the right course of action. We’ll see how it goes… Yes, I’ll continue to write and paint and share thoughts on happiness, because what is life without upliftment? ~ but in the meantime, for what it’s worth, my heart sends waves of hope to those in far greater need.

September 7, 2014 In appreciation, art, creativity, inspiration, optimism, philosophy By Patricia Saxton

Outrageous Happiness #8: Angelic Intervention?

Here’s a little tale. So. I was running late. It was my birthday weekend ~ I’d recently dropped my daughter at college, so it was the first in 18 years without her by my side ( 🙁 ) ~ and I wanted to take full advantage of plans to spend a relaxing weekend with two dear friends. But, there I was, crunched for time, exceedingly ornery and frustrated that I couldn’t seem to pull it together.

Then, of course, like penance for being late, as I finally get on the road I realize the car needs gas.

I pull up to the gas pump. A young station attendant comes to the window. “How are you today?” he asks. “Okay, I guess. But I’m late.” My tone is less charming. “Can you fill with regular, please?”

And then, without skipping a beat, he turns my day completely around.

“You’re not late”, he says (me looking at him incredulously, because I am, indeed, nearly two hours behind schedule). He’s got a big, genuine smile. The contagious kind. “Nope, you’re not late. You’re the life of the party! Nothing’s gonna happen til you get there. So you see you’re really not late, you’re right on time.”

Maybe it’s his tone. Maybe the gentle conviction. His reminder that there’s always peace in the middle of the storm. Whatever it is, he’s got me. The shift is immediate. I feel myself smiling. I think: what a fabulous attitude.

As he hands me my receipt I tell him: “You know, you really, truly made my day. I feel so much better – thank you!” “That’s my job”, he says. “To leave you with a full tank of gas, clean windows and a smile on your face.” (wow! how often do you hear that?)

Mission accomplished, young man. Well done!

So outrageously well done, in fact, with such dramatic effect, that halfway down the road with my new-found smile, full tank and clean windows, I wonder if, just maybe, he’d been an angel in disguise. For reasons I may never know ~ he really did work a little magic.

How’s your Outrageous Happiness going?

August 16, 2014 In appreciation, art, creativity, inspiration, optimism, philosophy By Patricia Saxton

Outrageous Happiness #7: If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out

Raise your hand if you have enough time. …. Anyone? Well, I can probably think of a few people with way too much time on their hands, but I’m certainly not one of them and I don’t personally know anyone who would honestly raise their hand.

So if we’re all pressed for time, squeezed, squished and otherwise finding ourselves on the short end of the time stick by the end of the day, how the heck do we make more time? How do we fit in those things we want to do around all the things we have to do or feel compelled or honor-bound to do?

Until we have (or make) that honest-to-goodness good-sized chunk of time, the answer lies in moments. And a bit of compromise. And a willingness to surrender.

Like tonight. Busy moving from one thing onto the next, I passed by my piano. My poor, beautiful, neglected piano. This time, instead of more longing and neglect, I decided to sit down and play. Just a few melodies, even just a few notes if that’s what it took ~ but I would run my fingers across the keys and fall in, devoted only to the music for that moment in time. Pure presence.

I might have played longer, but ~ there wasn’t time ~ so I made the proverbial “most of it”. In those 5 minutes I found new songs and songs found me and by the end there was a smile on my face and calm in my bones. Maybe only temporary, just a quick spiritual snack; but hours later I still feel the lift.

It was all in the surrender. A nice shot of happy with lingering ramifications.

And that’s what makes stealing moments worthwhile. Sometimes we just need to grab ’em. Because if we don’t do things that feed our spirit, we’ll be quite the opposite of outrageously happy. So take 5, surrender and sing out!

Take 5 to:

Play an instrument

Sing

Meditate / Yoga

Listen to the birds

Have some ice cream : )

Dance

Ride a bike

Take a walk

Laugh out loud

Write something sloppy in your journal

Have an appreciation rampage

Drop off cookies to a friend

I’m sure you can think of something!

How’s your Outrageous Happiness going?

August 10, 2014 In appreciation, art, creativity, inspiration, optimism, philosophy By Patricia Saxton

Outrageous Happiness #6: Get Soaked

Get wet. And I don’t mean dip your toe in a puddle, I mean jump in the puddle.

Dance, yes, dance in the rain. Float down a river. Wallow in a stream. Sail on a lake and slide yourself overboard. Get yourself to the sea ~ smell the sea, watch the sea, dip into the sea and drench yourself in its salty passion. Sponge in those marvelously charged ions! Be a mermaid (or merman). Swim. Swim. Swim. (If you don’t know how, learn. This is not up for discussion.) Do handstands in the pool; do cannonballs off the side.

When was the last time you ran through a water sprinkler? Go on ~ do it ~ get soaked!

Water is essential to life. It sustains us. It also softens hard edges and dislodges stuck bits. It cleanses. It reminds us to flow and move and refresh and renew. It allows us to wash away troubles we really don’t need and bathe in rejuvenation.

So don’t just sit there, plunge in and splash around. Let it baptize you, stir you, bless you! Submerge, immerse, get yourself a good sopping wet, head to toe.

How’s your Outrageous Happiness going?

July 30, 2014 In appreciation, art, creativity, inspiration, optimism, philosophy By Patricia Saxton

Outrageous Happiness #5: Not Getting it Done

For argument’s sake, let’s just agree that multi-tasking is overrated. Oh sure, it’s one thing to fold laundry while talking on the phone, but it’s another to reply to emails while talking on the phone. (And, by the way, I’ll know if you’re doing the latter, so don’t even try it!) It’s one thing to sing while driving; another to text. It’s great to “kill two birds with one stone”, but you won’t get any birds if you’re over there juggling nineteen plates. You get my point. It’s about focus.

And sometimes that means something doesn’t get done. (GASP!) Or it doesn’t get done at the prescribed time. Or it gets done, but falls short of the mark (commonly referred to in some circles as doing a half – a_ _ed job).

Like right now. I’m up to my eyeballs in stuff that needs to get done. Being a “doer” my tendency is to do whatever it takes to keep my commitment to x, y and z. Often to my own detriment – lack of sleep, feelings of frustration, anger, “what was I thinking?” syndrome. Definitely not the peace of mind one might expect from accomplishment.

But what if…. what if, I only got to x and y. What if I only got to x? I’ll tell you what won’t happen – the world won’t fall apart at the seams as a result of my failing to meet all three.

So, being the rather smart girl that I am, I’m getting ahead of the game and deciding that it’s okay. What gets done will get done, what doesn’t, won’t, and so be it. As long as I’m not hurting anyone or causing hardship, I think it’s safe to say that my own welfare counts in all this. Sanity is good.

Really showing off my smarts, (hold on to your hats), I know that to make this work I need to prioritize. This way, if y and z fall by the wayside this week, I won’t beat myself up. Which I rather like.

So here’s to not getting it done. What an outrageously liberating thought.

How’s your Outrageous Happiness going?

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