happiness

Prompt Page 0015: Happiness

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Prompt post from The Learning Network
to combat WordPress.

 

What makes you happy?

 

I want to take a moment to acknowledge the irony of this being my next prompt after all the posts I’ve made this week… Thanks, Universe. I got the hint. >.>

What makes you happy? Be as specific as you can in listing five things or more. (For instance, if “home” makes you happy, tell us what details about it are so happy-making.)

My cup of coffee in the morning makes me happy. I like the routine of getting out of bed, putting on my glasses, and quietly going downstairs. I love scooping out the instant coffee powder (don’t judge me) into my red cup that I’ve had for years. I love listening to the water run as I fill the cup. I love the minute and twenty seconds I stand in front of the microwave, breathing, waiting, calm in the moment, knowing my cup will feel warm in my hands.

I love the time it takes for me to drink my coffee. The silence of the apartment. Sometimes I sit on the couch. Sometimes I play music. Sometimes I sit outside on my doorstep and listen to the cars driving by on the road near my apartment. Sometimes it’s sunny. Sometimes I’m sad because I miss mom still. Sometimes I’m worried about the day because I have a lot to do, or I’m worried my grief will keep me from doing the things I feel I should get done.

It doesn’t really matter how my day starts. My cup of coffee brings warmth to it, physically, but also emotionally and spiritually. It’s “my” time. Lately, I’ve been able to share this time with Big Bad, and that, too, is something I love. I’ve never really shared this time with anyone else, and it makes me happy when he’s part of it.

Cleaning makes me happy. I know that sounds weird, but it’s true. I like putting in effort into the spaces that are important to me. It makes me feel like I belong. That I’m part of it. I remember there was a Saturday class at the dojo I was going to for aikido. We were going to have a seminar that night for a visiting sensei. I was allowed to dust and polish the shrine. It made me feel like I belonged. I was a part of the dojo because I was helping to care for it.

It’s a similar feeling when I clean my room, or kitchen, or my car. These are my things and I put time and effort into caring for them. It makes me happy to take pride in things that are a reflection of me.

I hesitate to type this, but I think writing makes me happy. I hesitate because I think of all the times I have sat at my keyboard and cried as I typed, but I also remember the peace and acceptance I found after all of those painful, anguished writings. Happiness is not always easily attained. Sometimes it is a hard road to get there. Writing has helped me get through some of the darkest moments in my life. Very rarely are answers black and white. Life doesn’t work that way, so yes, even though it’s a confusing, gray yes, I have to say that writing makes me happy.

Training makes me happy. Going to the dojo for jujitsu and Muay Thai, taking my belly dancing classes, yoga, running, biking, pushing myself to be better than I was the day before. That makes me happy. There’s part of me who views all of these things as easy now. I survived mom’s death. I’ve made it almost one year. Everything else is trivial, easy.

The pain I feel of my body wanting to quit, the tiredness of physical exertion, it’s nothing compared to the pain of having mom’s urn handed back to me from the TSA worker. The fear I used to have about my car breaking down, or what people thought of me, of not being thin enough for society, that’s all white noise to me now. Silly. Petty.

I train because it makes me better. It teaches me about myself, about other people. It shows me how we all struggle and that even though the struggle is hard, that in the end, it’s worth it. Change, improvement, can’t happen without pain, sacrifice, and effort.

I train as a way to understand and accept the emotions I have in regards to my mom’s death. I train because she died. Finding acceptance and understanding makes me happy.

The people in my life make me happy. And again, that’s something I hesitate to type, though I feel it’s true. The support of my brothers, the thoughtfulness of my sister-in-law, the friends who have reached out to me with love and compassion, the strangers who have been kind to me without realizing what I have been struggling with, the drunk guy who came up and hugged me and said God loves me and has plans for me even though at the time I felt lost and alone.

Even the people who in my past have hurt me. Zane and his betrayal, Warren #2 and my rape, Joe and his manipulation and lies. I am grateful for them and the lessons I learned through surviving those experiences.

I am happy for the darkness I was made to walk through because I know how to help others walk through it. I know how to be light and hope for others. I know how to be kind and loving. I understand how to empathize and relate.

I am happy for the people in my life who help me get through the hard times I’m still experiencing. Even when it feels pointless they stay by me. Even when it feels like I throw a fit like a child and cry about how “it’s not fair”, they stay by me. Their acceptance and understanding make me happy, and I love them for it.

What do you do to make others happy, whether on purpose or not?

I don’t feel like I do anything special. I am myself, and I guess a lot of people appreciate that. I call or message people randomly. When I feel sad I post something positive on Facebook. Without fail, there’s always one person who replies saying how they were having a shitty day and my post made them smile. That makes me smile. It makes me feel like even though I’m sad and lonely that I’m not alone.

I listen when others need to talk. I ask how their day is going and genuinely care about the answer. I hug the people who are important to me. I tell people I love them because I don’t want us to part ways and for them to not know that I care. In the chaos of life, I might never get the chance to say it again and I need them to know.

I smile and nod to people I pass. I laugh when something’s funny. I sing along with my music in the car with my windows down or songs playing through the speakers at the grocery store. We only have the moment we’re in and I told mom I would live life fully, so I am. I think people, at least some people, can sense that, and that feeling that makes them happy.

Do you agree with Ban Ki-moon, the United Nations secretary-general, that “when we contribute to the common good, we ourselves are enriched”? Have you ever had the experience of being made happy by helping someone else?

Yes. Several times. There was one night where I was at a gas station and a man came up to me asking if I could help him. He didn’t have any money and asked if I could buy him a can of soup. He didn’t ask for cash or list off any of the normal stories I’ve heard. He seemed so disheartened coming up to me and all he wanted was soup. We went into the store together and I bought him food.

We stood in line together awkwardly. I paid. He thanked me and I wished him well. I then went to my car in cried because that day had really sucked for me. If I went back through my blog I’m sure I could find the post. I’m pretty sure I was feeling lost and directionless again, for different reasons than what I do know. Mom was still alive then. But the fact remains that I felt so helpless and powerless with my own life that I wanted was to be a positive influence for someone else, and I was able to that night. Being able to help someone else made me feel like there was still a reason to keep going.

 

Do you ever literally “count your blessings,” as the Action for Happiness organization in Britain urges people to do? If so, what’s on your list right now?

Yes. I was at the gym before I went to Disney. I had run and was in the back trying to stretch my hamstrings out. I was going through different yoga poses but I wasn’t really peaceful or meditative while I was doing it. My heart chakra was aching. It has been recently, and at the moment I felt sad. I was in child’s pose with my arms stretched out in front of me and I was thinking about how I missed mom.

I pushed my right index finger more firmly against the ground.

Jonathan.

I pressed my right middle finger against the ground.

Jason.

Right ring finger.

Jace.

Right pinky.

Lio.

Big Bad.

My blacksmith.

Nicole.

Chrys.

Corey.

Sir.

I thought about them and why I’m glad they are there. I have more than ten people in my life who help me.  Taking the time to think of people, name them, and remember why they are positive influences for me shifted my day. Even though I hurt I still have good things in my life. Sometimes the pain becomes all consuming and I forget about the good that’s still there.

Maybe I should do that more often when the pain wells up. Stop and count ten good things. I wonder if that would help my grief.

Musing Moment 104: Another “Come to Freya” Meeting

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Alright. Enough is enough, Brain. We’re going to sit down and have another, “Come to Freya,” meeting.

Our resolution this year is to be happy. So let’s look at some things and see if they line up with that whole “happiness” thing.

 

Does going to the dojo make me happy?

For the most part, yes. Then, for the most part, I need to go to the classes. If I’m tired, I need to go. If I’m sad, I need to go. If I’m angry, I need to go.

The dojo helps move me towards my goals of being physical, emotionally, and spiritually healthy. It’s especially important to go during the moments I feel weak, vulnerable, and alone. It’s important to continue going even though my grief might have swelled up into another wave. The dojo helps me get through those waves. It helps keep me grounded and connected to the present rather than getting lost in the pain of not having mom.

Death ends a life, not a relationship.

Mom is still here and I’m still in the process of living a life that brings her honor. Staying at home because I’m sad and missing her is devaluing the relationship I currently have with her and isn’t the type of action that I personally view as honorable or beneficial. Mom wouldn’t want me to stay home feeling depressed and sorry for myself. She would want me to be proactive and do something healing.

So, no more skipping out of the dojo. It’s good for me. It makes me happy. No excuses. I’m going from this point forward.

Does calling myself an “employed slacker” make me happy?

No.

Then don’t do. Ever. Not in a joking fashion. Not in a serious, self-deprecating fashion. It’s not funny. It pokes at sensitivities I know I have.

Stop being a douche to yourself.

Yes. I’m unemployed. Yes, some people look at that as a bad thing. It doesn’t mean I’m a slacker. It doesn’t make me a bad person. I resigned. I chose to back out of the workforce to heal and process after mom died. I’m getting to a point where I feel like I can go back. I’m actively looking for ways to go back.

I’m doing well.

I’m not a slacker. If it doesn’t make me feel good, then don’t say it.

Does the apartment make me happy?

Yes, sort of. I want to get the projects I have going on finished.

Then finish the projects.

Do the painting. Get the shoe rack so the shoes aren’t piled up by the door. Start the herb garden in the kitchen window. Fix the outside patio so in the summer there’s a place to sit and drink the morning cup of coffee. Set up a bike rack so the bike isn’t in the way all the time. Move the china hutch and get a small kitchen table so there’s a place to eat.

This is my home now. I committed myself to staying in Orlando. I will make this space my home. The home I want to have. It doesn’t have to be a nebulous dream. It doesn’t have to be far off in the future.

Do it now. Be happy now.

In fact, here’s a deadline. Since the week at Disney is going to eat into everything, I have until February 10th to finish the painting and get the china hutch moved. By February 17th I’ll have the bike rack, kitchen table, and shoe situation figured out. And the herb garden. By February 17th this will the best home I can make it without remodeling.

There’s no reason for my environment to add to my stress or to make me feel bad. This is completely within my control to fix. So I’ll fix it by the dates stated. No excuses.

Does cross stitching make me happy?

Yes.

Then I need to make time to actually do it. Same with listening to audio books. I’m letting things that give me fulfillment fall to the wayside. I need to find balance. I’m doing well in the physical health area, but that wellness is potentially coming at the expense of my emotional and spiritual health.

I still have hobbies I need to nurture and feed. I’m doing game nights with Jason and Jon and that’s great. I’m meal planning better, and starting to find new recipes again and that’s awesome.

I should not forget about the other things that make me happy. Cross stitch. Draw. Color. Read. Meditate. Do yoga. Stare off into space and daydream once in a while. Cuddle with Scarlet.

It’s ok to do those things. It’s ok to have slow moments where I simply breathe. I like those moments. I like quiet moments. I’m an introvert. I need to take care of my introverted nature just as much as my warrior nature.

Having lunch with someone every day like I’m scheduled to this week is not healthy for me, or my finances, and I know that on both counts. I have to say no sometimes and saying no doesn’t make me a bad person. It makes me responsible.

I figured out my intrinsic priority yesterday, and that’s a good start. My intrinsic priority is myself. I don’t need accountability there anymore. When something isn’t good for me, normally I don’t do it. I recognize when something is harmful or detracts from my happiness. Sort of like what I’m doing know. I knew I needed to throw down the ban hammer on myself, my brain. I needed to reestablish lines that got kind of blurry. I’m doing good at looking out for myself now, and that’s awesome.

I’ve let other areas go in the process and now it’s time to pick those back up. Chiefly would be the purpose/career/finances areas.

Those are the key priorities for me at the moment because those are the areas I feel like I’m failing.

And while I’m on the topic… that word. The F word…

Does it make me happy?

No.

Then don’t use it. I’m not failing. It’s just another word like “slacker” that makes me feel bad and undermines everything that I’m actually doing. So no more F word.

I’m not doing as well in those areas as I would like.

If I look at this as a sequential problem to solve, I need to figure out my purpose before I can accurately focus on a career which will resolve the finance stress I’m feeling.

I know my purpose is to help people. There are more ways to help people than teaching. The two jobs I applied for last night are great starts. Patient transport and nutritional services at the hospital. Not only am I helping people, I’m not going back to Full Sail, I’m not going to California, I’m moving in the career change I wanted, and they’re both full-time positions within biking distance of the apartment.

Keep your chin up. There were several other job postings you could have applied for last night as well. All isn’t lost. It’s not a hopeless situation. There are options out there. Instead of focusing on the issue we need to identify potential solutions. State the problem, yes, but don’t obsess over it.

Write it down. Make it physical. Then brainstorm, sans emotion, on what you would do to fix it if it were someone else’s problem.

Use the advice you would give someone else because you always give really good advice.

You’re an INFJ. You observe the outside world and process it for patterns and consistencies. You’re fantastic and figuring out emotions when they’re observable.

That’s why writing helps you. That’s why it’s so confusing when the emotions are trapped inside. Your strength is seeing a giant mountain of “what the fuck is all this shit” and organizing and analyzing and figuring it out so it’s manageable.

That takes space. More space than what you have inside. Write it out. Talk it out. Get it out from your brain and into the physical world where you can handle it, manipulate it, move it, toss it out, categorize it, label it, repair it. Whatever it is you need to do to “it”.

Dump all of it out, somewhere, then treat it like you would someone else’s issues. You’re kind, caring, diplomatic, understanding, empathetic, respectful, all of these amazing wonderful things to other people.

Be those amazing wonderful things to yourself.

You’re doing well. Last night started rough. You started feeling sad and missing mom and that’s ok. You didn’t go to the dojo and that’s ok, too. We hadn’t had our conversation yet. Our “come to Freya” meeting.

You felt sad and you skipped the dojo, but instead of crawling into bed and letting the depression eat away at us, you applied for more jobs. you did something to help yourself feel better.

That’s awesome. You survived last night. You did well. We deserve and are allowed to feel proud of ourselves.

Keep up the hard work. The effort pays off. Hold your head high because you have nothing to be ashamed of. Remember, it’s not your place to feel ashamed. You’re moving forward. You’re doing what you think is right.

Is it your best?

It might not have been, but you know what? That’s what today is for. We can’t go back and change anything. We can only move forward.

So let’s move forward today. Let’s move forward to a happier us.

No matter what, remember I love you, Earth Dragon. Forever and for always I’ll have your back.

Musing Moment 100: 2017 Resolution

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This is the first New Years without mom.

I had thought today would be hard, but just like my birthday and Christmas I made it through this day, and I’ll make it through the night, and tomorrow, and the days after.

Sitting here in the relative silence of my room, since it can only be so quiet with fireworks going off, I’m struck by how much I have been changed by the experiences I have had this year.

It started with running my first Warrior Dash on February 6th, an event I am about to do again. That race helped me overcome so much negativity in my past. Hurtful comments. Self-doubt. Things which were like cancer, eating away at me from the inside, irradicated. Gone. A stronger me taking the place of the person I had been only an hour before, emerging from the last giant mud pond with the unshakable truth of knowing I had completed the race. I WAS good enough and I had proven it to the most important person; myself.

Then March 28th dawned. At three in the morning I woke to what seemed like an endless stream of messages on my phone from my family trying to reach me while I slept with my phone on silent.

Mom was in surgery and we didn’t know if she would make it. I spent five hours on the first plane I could get to. Five hours of not knowing if she would be there when I landed. Five hours of begging the Universe with everything I had for her to hold on long enough for me to say goodbye.

This year taught me what it truly means to beg. I feel that is something most people don’t understand, can’t understand until they are in such a situation. Until it’s life versus death and you would give literally everything in your whole existence if only for a few more moments of life.

The two weeks that followed allowed me to understand what true devotion is. I devoted two weeks of my life to the kindest, most caring, most loving person I will ever have the grace to know. There were a lot of excruciatingly hard moments while mom was in the hospital, but there were a lot of really good moments, too, and I cherished every moment of every day because those were moments she was alive. Even if it was a bad moment it was amazing and I clung to it for not knowing if it would end.

And then April 4th, 2016.

Mom died.

It’s a cold, sobering fact in my life. Saying those words, typing them doesn’t cause the anguish it once did. It’s not that the words are easier. It’s more like the grief I feel is something I have grown accustomed to. I understand it better. I cope with it better.

At first, I raged against it. Struggled. Fought. I tried to control it with logic and rationalizations.

But emotions don’t work that way, and the more I tried to force the emotions to be something they weren’t, the more they swelled up until they were overpowering tidal waves that pulled  me down, submerged me, immersed me until the only things in life were the emotions I tried so hard to deny.

For the longest time, I struggled with accepting the terms “grief” and “grieving”. They felt so hollow, so empty. They didn’t encompass everything I felt. They didn’t capture the burning, scorching fire of rage. They didn’t capture the sinking feelings of hopelessness and isolation. They didn’t convey the apathy and flatlined stillness that filled most of my days. They didn’t carry the icy weight of abandonment.

It wasn’t until someone made the offhanded comment that grief transforms a person that I began to understand what I was going through. Grieving is a type of transformation. It’s not a destination or an emotion. It’s a process wrapped up into a single word.

Transformations take effort, and energy, and willpower, and time.

Looking back at all of the events, mentioned and unmentioned, which transpired this year I’m left aware of how this year has shown me who I am.

I am my mother’s daughter. I am one of many people who continue to carry her light. I will shine, and guide, and mentor, and I will be the person my mother raised me to be.

My resolution this year isn’t to form a new habit. It’s not a goal or a number to reach or a career placement to achieve.

My resolution is to be happy.

That was one of my mom’s last wishes for me. For me to be happy.

It took me six months to legitimately feel that emotion again. Long enough that I began to doubt my ability to feel it. I had begun to think I was broken. Damaged. My heart chakra marred for the rest of forever.

I’m not broken, though. I can still feel happiness and I will honor her wish. I will honor it this year and every year following.

I will live my life and I will live it in such a way that I am happy.

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