Outrageous Happiness

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Everybody’s doing it. Consciously or not ~ we’re all trying to be happy.

Joy. Delight. Contentment. Love, peace and harmony. It’s a basic urge, in varying degrees of intensity depending on our genetic makeup, manifesting in different ways, but it’s there. Elusive. Sneaky. Not completely reliable.

So, this is a test. I’m calling it the “Outrageous Happiness Experiment”.

It started after a friend gave me a book. (Ah, the power of the written word in action, yet again!) It’s the true and rather amazing account of the extraordinary life of Tracy Evans*, a physician’s assistant who decides to follow God wherever He leads; Tracy calls it “radical faith”.

Towards the end of this adventurous read, feeling both uplifted and somewhat inadequate, I had an inspiration; something I could apply to my own life: why not radical happiness? Kind of like positive thinking on steroids. Because at the root of positive thought lies a certain amount of faith, and trust, and hope. And if you know anything about me by now (whether you know me personally, or have read my posts for a while), it’s that I’m a staunch optimist and a huge, huge, believer in the power of thought to shape both ourselves and our world.

Being a staunch optimist doesn’t necessarily mean wearing rose-colored glasses – I readily admit to the stray string of curses when a driver cuts someone off, or the random rage about the digitally over-stimulated age we live in. I also confess that after watching half an hour of the news, the cynic in me comes roaring to the surface, feeling helplessly disturbed by the nature of the human beast ~ or more to the point, the ones that make headlines. Just the mention of it, my blood can start to boil – with nowhere to flow to.

So I go back, as I always must do, to what I can do in my world, and what each of us can do for our little corners of the planet, period. If everyone paid attention to honoring positive values by living them, what a better place the world would be. (Reminiscent of my 52 Weeks of Peace message.) In the face of the madness of the world at large, throwing bucket loads of good stuff at it seems the only sane route ~ not to mention, a pretty potent force.

So that’s where I go. I bring out the pen, the paper, or play a tune on the piano to bring the boiling blood back to normal temps. Tend some flowers. Slow down. Do something nice for a stranger. Practice what I preach. Watch my thoughts. Bend my mind to the sun, open my heart to light and more light.

And yet, even with the best of intentions, challenges to our happiness quotient, our “positive thinking” efforts and our spiritual well-being, can pop up like militant weeds after a spring rain, threatening to overrun our mind’s well-tended garden. The usual culprits like setbacks with money and health can hit you right between the eyes without an ounce of compassion. Just making air-travel plans these days can launch an onset of anxiety. And yep, other people, even (or especially) those we love, can take our mood on a quick virtual trip to an emotional amusement park ride.

No one said life would be easy.

It’s also curious, this life business. Just when you think you’ve got more character than you thought possible, along comes more character-building opportunity! …. And so it goes, and keeps on going, and we keep living and learning and growing and changing until our proverbial time is up.

And since I figure I have a long time before my number is called, I want to live it well! I also figure a lot of that is up to me. It suppose it could be in the stars. It might already be planned out, pre-destined. Heck, it could be luck of the draw. But on the chance I have some say in all this, I might as well take the reins in whatever way I feel I can.

So who’s in? For a year, I’m gonna give it my best shot, and invite you to do the same. I’m going to give my positive thinking practice a hefty dose of adrenalin, each and every morning. Supplements throughout the day as needed. The key here is going overboard. Crazy optimism. Being outrageously positive.

An aside: Just this morning I was put to the test. You know, kinda like when your happy place plummets from a 9 to a 2 in under a minute. I thought, oh the hell with it. Who am I kidding with this “Outrageous Happiness” idea. Isn’t it enough just managing daily life sometimes? How will I sustain a radical level of positivity?

Then I thought, well this is just perfect, isn’t it? Any time is perfect. And at any time we might trip up. It’s (of course) what we do with that stumble. The point isn’t to walk around with a smile plastered to your face or pretend bad things don’t happen, or that as a human being, you don’t have ups and downs and a whole array of complex emotions at any given time. The point is to observe, and find a point of light to move forward from.

Personally, this has been a very weird year so far. Lots of transition, some dramatic shifting going on. The best way I can sum it up is to say that at some points I feel absolutely certain I’m supposed to toss up my hands and say, “Okay Universe, have at it. Whatever it is you have planned for me here, I’ll try to get out of the way so you can do your wonderful thing.”

Can’t say I know how it’ll play out, but approaching it with a ridiculously happy intention seems like a good idea. It’ll be interesting to look back a year from now, and see where the experiment has led ~ or if it’s really not in my hands at all.

The world is a mess. What better time to shake things up with some unexpected happy? If you want to try an “outrageous happiness” commitment in your life, too, I’d love to have you join me. Let’s get this party started! How amazing can we be?!

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Stay tuned. Positive, possibly outrageous, updates to follow.

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* The book about Tracy Evans is called Outrageous Courage: What God Can Do with Raw Obedience and Radical Faith. Not a sugar-coated do-good story, but a page-turning real life account of adventure and unabashed zeal. She is truly an exceptional being.

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Flamingos on The Lawn  

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We woke to a flock of flamingos; their bright pink elegance gracing our lawn. The fact that they’re plastic did nothing to dampen our spirits. In fact, they’re quite tidy and don’t make much noise, so all in all, make for pretty good companions.

They came to mark a passage. It’s graduation season and the Saxton household is having its turn. Bitter and sweet, hopeful and reminiscent, a time when as a parent you just have to figure you did the best you could as your child prepares to leave childhood behind, to stray from the nest and walk a new path. The page turns, a new chapter starts, adventure awaits.

And so, like the flamingo, you hope their legs carry them well. That they’ll let their true colors shine, and brighten any landscape they cross. That they’ll know when to graze, know when to fly. That they mingle with right people in right places at right times. Make friends. Be safe. Be wise. Stand strong. And discover their own brave, shiny wings for their dreams to soar.

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Things My Father Taught Me

How to change a tire. How to balance a checkbook. How to pack a suitcase efficiently.  That at one time a slide rule could solve almost any homework problem.

He taught me that weeds are best pulled close to the ground when the soil is damp and the moon is waning. Almost anything can be recycled and remade. Material things are overrated. Contribute something positive. Try to leave the world a better place for your having been there. Nothing is more meaningful than family and nothing more beautiful than the earth.

My father showed me practicality, patience and perseverance. He showed me modesty and humility. Loyalty. Honesty. Standing up for what you believe in.

He gave me his long legs and his sensible disposition. He gave me a weakness for potatoes, and all things fresh from the garden. He did not, however, give me his creative math genius, nor his pension for saving old nails ~ but I’m pretty sure if you looked in the dictionary for the meaning of the word “integrity”, you’d find his name. And for that alone I am eternally grateful.

Here’s to all the fathers who teach even half of this stuff. You are more important than you may know.

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Giraffe Socks

It’s a gray day. And I’m wearing gray. Top to bottom, inside and out. And I wonder, am I feeling gray? Why all the gray, Patsy?

I don’t know about you, but when life requires a little extra thought, when it calls for a dose of self-reflection, I tend to retreat to sort it through. And only then ~ after I’ve sorted enough to have a sensible conversation about whatever it is, or sorted enough to be receptive to what someone else might have to say – do I share it, if at all. It might have turned into a nugget of wisdom by then, or a revelation, or simply a re-telling of when such-and-such made me examine such-and-such. But I don’t wear stuff on my sleeve. Nothing against those who do – in fact, who knows, you might be better off! It’s just not my way.

So I see myself on this gray day, all in gray, feeling gray. Not gray as in “down in the dumps” gray ~ but gray as in “not black and white”, not crisp and clear. And I see that I’m feeling a bit edgy. Uncertain. And definitely a bit vulnerable. I’ve shared parts of myself recently that I didn’t expect to. Good people, and it’s all okay, but still, I feel more exposed than usual. It’s as if a little sign popped up that reads: “Check it out. Dip in the road. Proceed with caution.”.

So I’ve dressed to hide. To soften the edges. To soothe. To avoid creating static or “noise”. To seek balance. To retreat and sort. Gray is a good color for quiet observation.

Then I look down, and tucked under the cuff of my gray jeans, I see my giraffe socks. (Yes, don’t make fun, they’re quite cute, really.) And am glad I’ve also dressed to remind myself to keep it light, that “life’s too mysterious, don’t take it too serious” (which is really bad grammar, whoever made that up, but the point is well taken. 🙂 ).

And that is that. Have yourself a good day. I’m off to the gray horizon to ponder my vulnerability while chomping on the nearest Acacia tree.

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Earthly Pursuits

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Thank heavens there are people like my really smart nephew with a passion for math and statistics; for people who strive to climb Mt. Everest and people who want to be dentists or race-car drivers. I’d be awful at these things (among others) and quite frankly, am grateful someone else has these bases covered.

When you get right down to it, we’re all creative beings. We’re in a constant state of creation, our atoms and molecules and who knows what other sub-this-or-that particles in perpetual motion. What we do with all that varies, of course, from person to person, just as it varies from flower to flower, bird to bird, bug to little bug. Even a winter tree, barren and cold, is feverishly feeding its roots, growing beneath the ground; each tree uniquely carrying out its creative urge. So there’s all this activity going on, a momentum of endless, ever-evolving, ingenious energy, all the time, day and night, year after year.

Okay, I’ve tired myself out thinking about all that! But, hold on, the good news is I don’t need to go any deeper with it; even if I could, I don’t need to fathom the inner workings of this amazing swirl of life we’re part of. All I have to do is my part. And you, yours.

And more good news – we can choose what we want that part to be. And within those options ~ a whole giant vat of them ~ there’s a leaning, a desire, a knack for certain things more than others. And I would venture that those leanings show up unbidden, no matter where we live or under what circumstances ~ our inner callings will find a way to emerge, and they usually show up when we’re little kids. We arrive in this world pre-packaged with a personal set of affinities. And they never leave.

But then we travel life’s twisting roads, and for one reason or another, may un-do some of those natural tendencies. Some are fortunate to retain the connection, some get lost. Maybe it’s strife, maybe it’s what we think others think we should do; a million detours and distractions, a million at-the-time good reasons that lead one away from that core, that essence. But it’s still there ~ I’m certain of it ~ and it’s never too late (or too soon) to revitalize.

If you’re wondering what that calling is, or if you even have one, ask “what lights you up?” Then tap in and get on with it!

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Why I Write What I Write (And Other Pressing Questions)

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When invited by the gracious and gifted Sue Ann Gleason to participate in a “blog-hop” about writing, I jumped in with a “yes”. What could be more fun than writing about writing? (Some of you groan, but you others, you’ll know what I mean. There’s a certain satisfaction involved.)

In my enthusiasm, however, I neglected to see ~ right there in the first line of the invitation ~ that I’d also need to solicit other writers-with-blogs to do the same. (Thus the “hopping” aspect. Right!) But that got done, too, and I’m so pleased to welcome my fellow hoppers (and beautiful souls all, I have to say) at the end of this post ~ and I encourage you to check out their contributions in about a week!

Now, without further ado, my response to the four questions each of us have been asked to answer. Hope you enjoy.

What am I working on/writing?

I’m thinking this question ought to be what am I not working on/writing? But I’ll try not to break the rules right off the bat here, and answer the question as is. So here I go.

Having recently finished writing and illustrating my third children’s book, I assumed I’d re-engage with one of several unfinished pieces that got usurped by the onslaught of dragons inhabiting my world for a while ~ among them, in various stages of completion, a murder novel, a young adult novel, and a love story. But the truth is, I’ve been feeling a stronger pull back to my poetic roots. While I adore a good story, and it pains the Virgo in me to leave things undone, I truly must go where the spirit leads. That’s usually how it works for me. We’ll see then which takes the cake.

 

How does my work/writing differ from others of its genre?

True confession: When I was in high school, I realized I had a marketable skill. I could pretty much copy anybody’s handwriting. I’m not saying any more than that…  except how it relates to my answer of this question, which is that I’ve always taken pride in my ability to cross borders, so to speak.

I don’t really have one genre, but different voices for different purposes. Maybe it’s a kind of artistic cross-training. In my design work, for example, I don’t care if it’s dog food, swiss bank accounts or skateboards, I’ll “get it”; I aim to pull out the expressive essence of each. With painting and illustration, I have a few different styles. If we’re talking about writing, I guess I’d like to think I write with a kind of colorful intelligence (that phrase just came to me – what do you think?), whether it’s a marketing piece, a short story, a poem.

So I don’t know that this makes me different from others, but it’s the best answer I can think of for now ~ simply being able to play different parts.

 

Why do I write what I do?

I write because to write is to breathe. To write is to untangle my thoughts, weave them into something more lovely and meaningful. And then there are all those fabulous words, and the countless, magnificent ways to arrange them! Writing is endless possibility, and thoughtful communication, and I probably write because I’m genetically wired to adore the play and value of the written word.

There are few things I “have” to do, but along with art, writing is one of them. Bottom line, there’s really no choice in the matter. :  )

On a less fanciful note, I also write some things because I get paid to do so. The more busines-oriented pieces might not be suitably prone to prose or heart-speak, but I enjoy them nonetheless because of that DNA thing, and because they still have to do with the magic of combining all sorts of marvelous words.

 

How does my writing process work?

Get comfortable. Pause. Let it rip. Stare at page. Re-read. Let it rip some more. Flow, flow, flow. Try not to do too much self-correction; just get it out. Then……….. edit, edit, edit. (Note: the entire process is usually infused with much tea-drinking).

Sometimes I write with a pen, more often with a keyboard. I also tend to use whatever’s handy when ideas strike ~ could be a paper towel, a page in my daytimer, the inside of matchbook, a grocery receipt or yes, even the palm of my hand. (Of course, when the hand-scribbling happens people usually look at me with a ‘what, are you still, like, 3-years-old?’ kind of look. Some actually say it out loud.)

Probably the most important part of the process, though, is loving it. Enjoying it. And going with it.

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And now, my talented blog mates:

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Sue Ann Gleason, creator of Chocolate for Breakfast, the Well-Nourished Woman, and the Luscious Legacy Project, is a lover of words, a strong believer in the power of imagination, and a champion for women who want to lead a more delicious, fully expressed life. Sue Ann has been featured in Oprah and Runner’s World magazines and numerous online publications. When not working with private clients or delivering online programs, she can be found sampling exotic chocolates, building broccoli forests in her mashed potatoes, or crawling into bed with freshly sharpened pencils and pages that turn.

You can connect with Sue Ann (multi-passionate maven) in a number of places. Delicious freebies await you!  joyful eating | nourished living | wise business | facebook

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bernadette

Bernadette Smith is the resident muse of MuseFusions. A writer and artist, she makes marks on paper with words and paint. Strives to be messy and playful. Casts all “shoulds” to the wind. Surrounds herself with artful and literary eye candy. Finds courage in embracing her vulnerability publicly. And, when she makes a real mess, she upcycles, repurposes and takes recreation in her re-creation.Her fidgety fascination with the power of words to heal birthed Enlightened Ink and published “Bernadette’s Pages: An Intimate Crossroad,” a book that journeys through the “I do but he doesn’t” time in her marriage. (Because life’s messy moments are invitations to love.) Bernadette also spends time in people’s homes and closets. (No, she’s not a voyeur or stalker.) She offers a holistic blend of Feng Shui, de-cluttering and organizing through her company, Enlightened Interiors.

You’ll find her blogging at Musings from the Messy Room and sharing messy gems on her Facebook page.

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ella.B

My name is Ella and I am an artist, a single mom of 2 amazing kids, and a survivor of domestic violence. I started the Rebel Thriver Blog as a way to connect to others and share my story. Being labeled a survivor wasn’t comfortable for me; I needed more. And I desperately wanted others to see that they could have it too…that you can choose to thrive in spite of your situation. Facebook followed and has allowed Rebel Thriver to grow into an online community. The support, love, honesty, and inspiration is alive in abundance on our page.

We only get one chance at this sweet life, so I encourage everyone to wake up and live. You may have been knocked down, but that story does not have to define you, for you hold the pen to the story of your life. Raise your eyes to the sky, throw your shoulders back, put on your imaginary crown and say, “Today is the first day of the rest of my life”.  Make it count.

Love, Ella
(p.s.: you can also follow Ella at her Rebel Thriver Twitter page.)
To read Ella’s post on writing is click here.

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Irish born, but with South Africa in her heart and soul, Fiona Dunphy has recently returned to Ireland from her beloved South Africa where she now lives with her two daughters. Already a Reiki Master Practitioner, Reflexologist and Crystal Healer, she’s heading back to college to add counselling and psychotherapy to her ever growing holistic health offerings.

She has always written – both for herself and for corporate clients. Recently her writing took a very personal turn following the breakdown of her marriage. Fiona writes from the heart; filled with love, with pain, with honesty, plenty of tears, and a good sprinkling of humour. Follow her Talking Healing Blog or her Facebook page, The Healing Room,  or even encourage her very reluctant attempts at Twitter.

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Writing is an art form, a practical tool, a verbal dance, a necessity. It’s something we interact with daily ~ and something some of us delve into deeply and with gusto, where others may struggle. I’d love to hear your comments on how writing fits into your world! ~ Patricia

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Breakthroughs

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Breakthroughs. Aren’t they great? Like clouds parting, the sun bursting through, we see with refreshing clarity, we understand what had been elusive, we discover something previously hidden, we step forward with renewed vision and vigor. The mire behind us. The mountain climbed! Ideas tumble crisp and clean. Insight sharp and heightened. Pieces fit with remarkable satisfaction.

Defined as “an act or instance of removing or surpassing an obstruction or restriction; the overcoming of a stalemate”, breakthroughs are typically associated with things like science and engineering, technology, negotiations and diplomacy, war and peace.

Einstein comes to mind. Thomas Edison, Marie Curie, Benjamin Franklin, Henry Ford, Jane Goodall, Amelia Earhart, Steve Jobs, Bill Gates, Walt Disney, Galileo Galilei, Alexander Flemming, Leonardo DaVinci, Charles Darwin, Isaac Newton, Mahatma Ghandi, Margaret Mead, … the list goes on. They’re all pioneers, masters of discovery and exploration who achieved life-changing breakthroughs.

But what of us mere mortals who haven’t found our way into the history books? Our “instances of surpassing an obstruction” are just as valid, even though on a personal level (which, of course, is where they all begin…). Our breakthroughs may not change the world; just ourselves ~ our way of thinking, our way of producing, our direction, our relationships, our world.

Yet as we break our barriers, we affect the world immediately around us, whether we know it or not!

That said, I can recall several breakthroughs in my artistic life, and it never occurred to me that anyone might be impacted but me, myself and I. And for the most part, I still hold onto that belief.

But, as any of us become more confident, or satisfied, or spiritually or skillfully elevated, it changes us ~ and that change is bound to show, in some way, in our outward demeanor, in our actions and behaviors, impacting those around us if only by sheer interaction. How much or little, we may never know, but it’s there.

In any event …  my own first memorable breakthrough came in first grade when swarmed by classmates asking me to draw pictures for them. Most requested, next to a clown, was a drawing I did of a girl’s face whose main attraction seemed to be her swirly-whirly hair-do. This was very neat stuff.

Later, at the ripe old age of 9, I entered a national poster contest. I remember working very hard on my drawing of a fawn, which I’d chosen to represent the prescribed theme of protecting our environment, and I remember my total surprise at winning, and I remember feeling really proud.

After that, while going about the business of regular growing up stuff, I basically honed my craft for a long time, enjoying the steps of refinement along the way.

It wasn’t until my early twenties when perhaps my biggest artistic breakthrough arrived ~ in the form of a self-portrait. This one caused great alarm among family members who were used to my straight-forward, more realistic pieces. They didn’t like it. At all. But I was ecstatic! It was a huge moment. Unforced, un-fussed over, and oh-so-liberating. It was no longer just skill, it was skill + expression; for me, a wide river crossed. And without a conscious intent beyond “doing a self-portrait because that’s what artists do”, the result was a near perfect expression of all that pent-up creativity rising colorfully to the surface.

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Since then, more new doors have popped open in the ever-evolving landscape of creative expression. More breakthroughs, some minor, some major, sprinkled like fairy dust along a path set in motion long ago, a seemingly natural course of events ~ with its own timing in place, I might add! You can even start to feel them coming after a while ~ in fact, I’m sensing one coming up here real soon…… so stay tuned!

But enough about me ~ you’ve surely experienced some of your own. Maybe after a long, deliberate, concentrated effort. Maybe they seemed to form out of thin air, when you were focused elsewhere. Your breakthroughs might be far and few between, or bunched together, firing away one right after another. But however they show up, come they will. They’re a culmination of your experience, and they help shape your future, your choices, and your way of being.

And when the moment arrives, it’s a notable shift. A mark of progress. Light and bright and “yessssss!”

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Art Love

Just a quick post to say I fell in love the other day. With another artist. More precisely, with his work. Yes, he was also charming and handsome, but it was his work that first caught my eye.

It happened at a recent “Mansion in May” event ~ where the rooms of old, immensely grand homes (usually no longer occupied) are dressed to the nines by a select slew of interior designers who are no doubt thrilled to have this kind of opportunity to showcase their work.

Andrew’s artwork was the first thing you saw when entering the lavish entranceway ~ and I have to say that after having visited room after room, eventually winding my way to the outdoor gardens and broad, beautiful views, his work had already stolen the show for me.

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I adore how he juxtaposed the old and new in his entranceway ceiling mural. Just brilliant. But he really took my heart away when I saw the monkeys in the study.

With all the fuss going on in so many of the rooms (granted, the designers, understandably, want to show off as much as they can during these rare and well-attended events ~ and what an extravagant, rich setting – a designer’s dream! ~ but more often than not it was way over the top for my taste ~ “less is more” was clearly not the overriding theme), his monkey paintings delightfully brightened the space with the right touch of unexpected whimsy.

And that was when I fell in love. It was all over. Hook, line and sinker.

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More of Andrew Tedesco’s outstanding work can be seen at http://www.andrewtedesco.com/ 

For more about the Mansion in May organization, visit http://www.mansioninmay.org

 

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