Living In Joy

Sunday, June 26, 2011

The Tans

Please allow me to work through something, here…
One might think, as “Living in Joy” is my mantra and my focus, that I never feel anything but delight at all times. Not true. In fact, today, I am feeling quite plain. Nothing is really wrong, but nothing feels particularly right, either. I have no complaints, per se, though I suppose I could drum some up, if I were so inclined. I am not so inclined, mostly because I know that finding fault and acknowledging random complaints is a slippery practice. It’s very easy to slide into a habit of identifying only problems, or blaming others, or deciding that there is something very wrong with me or my life, in general.
Still, I do have a habit of taking inventory during these moments of unexplained indifference. Is my joy still there, under the surface, pulsating like some electrical current to which I am not currently, for whatever reason, connected? Well, of course. I have faith that it is, even though my feelings of lackluster are what are on the surface at the moment. Have I made some choice that is distancing me from my joy?  Am I just tired? Or am I (the most fabulous and all-encompassing of female reasons for mood changes) hormonal? Have I not taken the time to renew my spirit, lately? Or am I eating poorly? If any of these ideas felt true, I would set about fixing the problem with a different choice, a nap, a walk in the park... but no. None of these things seem like the right explanation for today’s blasé.  
Still, I know that feelings are our signposts and catalysts. We feel angry at injustice, which moves us to action. We feel exhausted after too many stressors have not been handled, which prompts us to rest and regroup. We feel sadness at loss, which inspires us to reach out to find and give love. Feelings are our barometer, and if we acknowledge them and the message they bring, we can allow them to move us to remain true to our own intuition, emotions and convictions. What, then, is the message neutral brings? Not sadness, depression, misery, boredom, numbness, or the blues. More like “the tans.” Lukewarm. Just plain. What particular signpost is this? Exactly what action do “the tans” inspire?
What is tan? My walls and carpet are tan, and they look good with every color. Sugar cookies are tan, which makes them the perfect canvas for icings and sprinkles. The beach is tan, and it makes it easier to see bright shells or colored glass when it washes to shore. Is that it? Do the tans just make room for the color that is to come? Perhaps this is me clearing the slate in preparation for great things. Hm. Yes! That feels right. I have known for awhile that things were changing in my life. More travel, more seminar work, and a different picture for my full time nursing career are all on the horizon. A day or two of the tans are probably not so much a catalyst for action as they are providing a contrast for what is to come.
Ah. That feels better. I can live with that. And I hope the next time you are feeling just plain that you can look ahead and see that you are providing yourself the perfect canvas on which to scatter your next sparkles of color. I’ll be patient if you will, but I can barely wait to see what color is coming!
 Living in Joy Challenge: Recognize that Living in Joy does not guarantee constant feelings of happiness. In fact, it only provides a foundation for you to have the strength and courage to live through all of your emotions, good, bad, and “tan.”  If you have any coping strategies for getting through “the tans,” since they seem to require that we just patiently wait for color to return, please do share! J  

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Father's Day

It always amazes me how some memories are as clear as if they had just happened, yesterday. Do you have those times that you remember, when you can feel the feelings again, almost smell the smells and see the events unfold in front of you? I remember one particular Saturday afternoon. I suppose I was seven or eight years old. My mom and I had spent the day in the kitchen, and it was my first attempt at baking a pie from scratch. I had mixed the flour and shortening, rolled it carefully, and patted it into the dish. Mom and I washed and prepared the black raspberries for the filling and wove the perfect lattice top. Mom even showed me how to pinch the edges, so that they looked fancy and store-bought. When my dad came through the back door, I was delighted to tell him that I had baked him a pie, almost all by myself! I can remember, so clearly, him smiling at me in approval and saying, “All-right!” as he walked through the kitchen and upstairs to take a shower before dinner.
I was delighted and proud. Until I attempted to take the fresh-baked pie out of the oven.  *SPLAT!* …upside down on the oven door. Ruined. Suddenly, I wasn’t the proud little girl, cooking something for her daddy that she knew he would love. Now, I was just the clumsy little girl, who always ruined everything.
My dad, probably hearing the commotion in the kitchen, walked-in from the living room. He must have noticed I had tears welling in my eyes, but if he did, I didn’t know it. Without missing a beat, he grabbed forks out of the drawer, exclaiming, “This is great! This is the best way to keep pie warm after it’s done baking!” He grabbed the ice cream out of the freezer, and I watched in disbelief as he scooped it out onto the pie, all of it running all over the oven door. I looked at mom, eyes wide, but she wasn’t upset about the mess, either. Instead, she was calling my brother to come eat dessert, though we hadn’t even had dinner, yet. I was dumbfounded.
We all sat cross-legged on the kitchen floor, the oven door as our table, and ate warm pie a la mode until we were full. I suppose it was a major effort to clean the oven after the fact, but I don’t remember that part. What I remember is my dad, seemingly thrilled to eat pie and ice cream off of the oven door, as if it was what he had always wanted to do; my mom, looking at my dad with pure love just before she called my brother to the kitchen; and my brother and I, feeling like we were getting away with something, eating sweets without having first finished our vegetables. What a night!
People ask me, often, “How do you stay so positive?” That question has been the catalyst for this blog, my book, and the whole of the “Living in Joy,” project I’ve started, in an attempt to investigate and articulate some kind of answer. Most of the time, I attribute my joyful disposition to my decision, consciously made, to cling (if sometimes only by my fingernails) to optimism. On this day, Father’s Day, however, I would like to also celebrate the fact that my ability to find the best part of any situation was taught to me. My father had the miraculous and gracious ability to instantly see the opportunity in situations that others would consider difficult, if not disasterous.

Yes, I have to make my own conscious decision to look for the good, but once I make that decision, I have the tools and skills to find it. And I learned them from my father.
Thank you, Dad. I miss you.


Sunday, June 12, 2011

Venting

I love a good girls’ night out. We laugh, we eat good food, and many times, we “vent,” which is really just a nice word for complaining. Venting is distinguished from talking through problems with your friends or spouse in an effort to find solutions. Venting is what we do when we lament, “I just wanted him/her to listen! I hate when he/she tries to solve my problem. I was just venting. “  
Being a habitual “venter,” myself, I have recently started to wonder about the effectiveness of this practice. It seems like, if it were a productive habit, we wouldn’t have to vent the same information over and over. Instead, as the venting continues, day after day, so does discomfort seem to increase instead of decreasing, at least in myself, as bad behavior is recalled and rehashed, long after whatever situation caused the venting is over. Is there a better solution for getting through various frustrating situations than the coveted venting?
The answer just might be found in neuroscience and the study of hormones. I recently read the results of an experiment conducted by Dr. Paul Zak. In the experiment, oxytocin (the “niceness” hormone, the hormone responsible for bonding between mothers and babies, in particular) levels were measured. Not only were oxytocin levels increased in subjects who experienced the kindness of others (generosity, in the case of the experiment), but also increased when the subject was nice to someone else. In other words, if you are nice to someone, not only does that make someone else feel good, it makes you feel good, too!
I don’t think this is earth-shaking news. What I want to point out, however, is what that information means to our daily effort to stay connected to our joy. It turns out that, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all,” is not just your mother’s admonition to be polite. Brain chemistry research seems to show that it may be a key to living in joy. Similar to how complaining turns our focus to the least desirable traits of our friends and family, saying something nice starts a domino effect of its own: say something nice (oxytocin released in the speaker), feel nice (more oxytocin released in the speaker and the listener), speaker and listener are more likely to do something nice(oxytocin released in the speaker, the listener and  the recipient of nice behavior)… and so it goes, until our own brain chemistry is altered, and we are now wired to feel good. In addition, as oxytocin is the “bonding hormone,” we are indirectly renewing the bond between ourselves and those of whom, and to whom, we speak.
It should be noted that “venting,” even without active problem solving, also releases oxytocin in the person complaining, just like saying something nice does (which is probably why we’ve adopted the habit in the first place).  It does not, however, release oxytocin in the listener. Given the choice, why not have discussions that offer the greatest benefit for all concerned? Do yourself, your friends, and the people about whom you speak a favor… Unless you really are looking for productive solutions to a specific problem, say something nice, or don’t say anything at all. 
Living in Joy Challenge: Obviously, the challenge for this week is to speak only well of others and of situations. Also in spire this in others. Start the next “break room” discussion by asking, “What nice thing happened to you, this week?” or “What do you most respect about your spouse?” After a week of this, chemically speaking, you will be different.  I can’t wait to hear about the change. J

Sunday, June 5, 2011

My Whole-Life Crisis

The medterms.com definition of mid-life crisis reads: “A period of emotional turmoil… accompanied by a desire for change… brought on by fears and anxieties about growing older.”
Really? Is this something exclusive to mid-life? Do you remember junior high and high school? I remember thinking that something must have been wrong with me, because I never felt settled, or like I fit-in, or like I was as put-together as all of the teens around me appeared to be. In retrospect, I know that every one of us was trying to learn how to become who we wanted to be, as afraid as we were desirous of growing older.  
As an adult in my “middle age,” I don't think this has changed, much. Sometimes, I feel like I still don’t have it quite figured out. I should be more accomplished in my career, or have less debt, or more family. I should have done something, or not done other things. I’m not sure it’s much different than the feelings I had when I was a teen, so I also get discouraged, thinking that I should have resolved this question of, “who am I and what am I supposed to do with my life” sometime before now. This time, though, my age helps me. I have the experience and awareness to be able to look around and realize that I’m not an oddity. In fact, many of my friends, married or not married, with or without children, those with enviable careers and those who live with financial pictures that are bleak at best, express some of the same questions I entertain. It seems that regardless of what we are, have or do, we still long for more.
When I was a teenager, I thought there would come a time when I didn’t long for anything, anymore. A time would come when I would be content, satisfied, and proud of my own achievements. Now that I realize the longing hasn’t subsided, I’m tempted to be discouraged, or to completely change direction in search of some better life plan, except that I know by looking around me and talking to my peers, there are opposite directions and different life plans, but there are no better life plans. We are all left wanting more. Teen or adult, I continue to be in crisis, to want more, to continue longing, to desire change and fear growing older.
I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I think the discontent we feel throughout every stage of our lives is our catalyst to grow, learn and experience more of life than complacency allows. As human beings, I believe we were built to stretch the boundaries of our lives, break the barriers of fear that slow our progress, and celebrate our victories while simultaneously looking for new races to run. The feeling that we still “aren’t quite there, yet” is a result of still being alive, rather than a symptom of failure. Call it teen-angst, or a mid-life crisis, or elderly despair, the result is the same: the growing pains spur us on to become who we have all our lives wanted to be.
As long as I am living, I will want to learn, be, and experience more. In that way, I shall always be in crisis… not entirely content, not entirely accomplished. And I can find joy in that.
Living In Joy Challenge: Take a look at some of the things in your life that make you least content. How have you been handling them? Can you see any of your own growth? Are you able to see how these situations are helping you to discover yourself? The patience in you, or your capacity for forgiveness, for example? Let me know how you’re doing with your whole-life crisis… and I’ll keep writing about mine. J