Holiday Happiness

“The moments of happiness we enjoy take us by surprise. It is not that we seize them, but that they seize us.”

Ashley Montagu

This morning (2 days before Christmas) the parking lot of the Trader Joe’s was a zoo. People were honking, angry and agitated. The lines were long and no one looked happy. It made me sad, and I kept thinking about how much value there is in steering our life’s mundane activities from a perspective of acceptance. This is a huge part of 12 step recovery programs. Accepting what is, instead of resisting it and being angry about unmet expectations.

An associate of the store came over and asked if I’d like a chocolate truffle while I waited. (Seems silly, but, little things are big). I gladly accepted and savored the chocolaty sweetness on my tongue. When I got to the checkout person, paid and gathered my purchases, I leaned over and told the checker “May the force be with you.” He made direct eye contact and whispered thank you. At the door I was met with another associate handing out mini bouquets of flowers – for free!

Later in the day when picking up a grocery order from Ralph’s, I was informed that my order wouldn’t be available at the promised time, but that they’d call when it was ready. Later, after receiving said call, I made my way back. The parking lot was still a crazy mess, and there was no parking. Again, no happy faces, all of us scurrying around trying to get our things done before the weekend. Calling in to let them know I was ready to pick up my order, I was informed that my order was given to another customer by mistake. Hannah, the curbside associate, profusely apologized, informed me that my order would be free, and thanked me for my patience. About 15 minutes later, I was informed that they had my order, and was I still here to pick it up….but also that there were a couple of items that were out of stock.

No problem. They were kind – it was hilarious to me at this point. They had likely been yelled at by other customers all day and there was no need to add to their stress. Having worked in retail, I get how brutal it is this time of year.

Hannah made her way out to my car and said, “I don’t believe we are out of these items they said they were. Can I go back and grab them for you?”

“Oh you really don’t have to do that. I know you all must be insanely busy at this point,” I replied, figuring I would stop and get the last 2 items at another store.

“It’s really no problem – give me 2 minutes!” and she dashed back into the store. She returned with 3 brands of each item and let me choose. I thanked her again and marveled at how I will always think of this incidence when shopping, but that they’ve made a loyal customer for as long as we are here.

All of this could have gone so differently. I could have been bitchy and raged about the inconvenience of having to make multiple trips across town. I could have let the anger of other parking lot drivers seep into my attitude. I could have taken my irritation out on the people waiting on me.

One thing that became apparent when I stopped drinking, and dug a little deeper, was how the 12 steps were more than just a guide to no longer drinking. It’s that, for sure, but it’s also a plan to lead an emotionally adult life, ie, take responsibility for our actions and doing the introspective work needed to be at peace in one’s own skin, regardless of what is happening around us. To, as a friend of mine says, “Shed peace, not discord, wherever you go…”

Shed peace.

Even during the chaos of a grocery store 2 days before Christmas.

And sometimes it even means chocolate, flowers, and free groceries.

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Unexpected

Post-PCS move, all the boxes are unpacked. The paper (oh so much paper) has been meticulously straightened and folded and packed into one giant box by my equally meticulous husband. (I’m more of a shove it in a box and pack it down type, but whatever.) We have offered it all to others in the neighborhood who are getting ready for their next move.

This is my favorite space. The just after we are settled and unpacked space. Where everything has a place, things no longer needed have been donated, and it’s another 2.5 years before we have to even think about moving again. We have all the hooks in the hallway, shoe racks placed, kids’ rooms decorated and it feels like home.

I sip my steaming hot freshly poured hot cup of coffee and gaze contentedly out the windows that offer a peekaboo view of the San Juan islands and the Puget Sound. It’s still foggy, gray and rainy as the Pacific Northwest usually is in February. My dad asked me recently, “I thought you hated the rain?” Honestly, I thought I did, too.

I am in such a different space than I was the last time we lived here. The kids no longer require my assistance in such things as getting dressed. They are far more independent. We are not in the midst of deployments. We live in a relatively quiet military town – a far cry from the busy-ness (and sunshine) of Southern California. I try to cherish each phase as we move through them, but I’m completely immersing myself in this one. My not-so-tiny-anymore humans are hilarious people and I find myself marveling at their quick wits and quirky senses of humor. Savoring their curiosity and cultivating their love of learning is a calling I never envisioned. I never thought in a million years life would take the turns it has. If you would have told me I would be a vegetarian, homeschooling, 3-dog lover, nature-craving, letting-my-hair-go-grey-naturally, insatiable consumer of books, teetotaler I would have laughed out loud at the ridiculousness of that image.

But here I am in the midst of the unexpectedness of it all and I am loving every dang bit of it. Okay, maybe that’s the coffee talking because let’s face it, not every day is bliss. A week ago I dragged the minions to a hike at one of my favorite trails by the water and they complained THE ENTIRE TIME. “It’s tooooo coooooollllldddddd….” (complete with whining voice) and “Are we done with this yet? I’m bored,” they complained long and loudly. Granted I was a smidge unprepared. We should have dressed a little more warmly, and maybe ventured out during a little later (and warmer) part of the day. Between my pushing of mandatory-family-fun and their reluctance and complaining it was a shit-show less than stellar outing.

Contrasted with this week’s adventure, it was night and day. We played giant chess in the sprinkles that wouldn’t quite become rain. I found joy in the usual spots. The kids drank from a camping spout.

 

Interspersed with the unexpected-joy-nugget types of family fun, I have no doubts they will be sprinkled with “less than stellar outings” from time to time. But that’s the point isn’t it, to expect the unexpected?

trying new things

consuming viewpoint-altering books

the beauty of rain

sobriety

raising kind (most of the time) and compassionate humans

 

And perhaps embrace it all.

 

 

More Than Miles

Sometimes miles drag. It’s impossible to push yourself out of the bed in the morning. Then there are those kind of runs. The ones that are etched in your memory as a really great run. We’ll take 14 “meh” runs just to have that one.

This morning was a great one.

I had my clothes set out the night before, making it less likely to talk myself into another “just 10 more minute” love affair with my snooze button. Grabbed some water, some breakfast and out the door I went.

The early morning, before the rest of the world is vertical, is my absolute favorite time of day. I love the feeling of being the only person out and about. It’s open space, quiet calm, and time that is mine alone.

It was a misty, almost foggy morning. This is the kind of heavy mist that makes it smell fresh and clean. If green had a scent, it would smell like the Pacific Northwest after a long-awaited rain. Hearing the damp gravel crunch and grind under the rhythm of my feet, I noticed bunnies poking their heads out, look at me, then dart quickly back under cover. Birds were busily chattering their morning routine. Nearing the end of the trail where I regularly run, I looked up to a piling about 10 yards away and saw an eagle perched right on top eye-balling me. I stopped and just smiled and admired how majestic (and freaking HUGE!) he was. Some runs are about more than just miles.

After a few moments Mr. Eagle grew bored with me and our staring contest and spread out his impressive wings and flew off. As I made the run back up the hill, I decided on impulse to head in a different direction and popped through a little trail.

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With purple being my favorite color, I was stunned and delighted to discover this field that is normally covered in yellow Native American paintbrush plants was dotted with lavender:

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The picture doesn’t do it justice. It was stunning to see what I expected to be yellow, covered in purple.

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The little bunny was watching me!

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So pretty and purple!

This was just one of those runs that felt tailor-made for me. It was as if the my little corner of the world held up it’s cup of coffee and said “cheers!” We are down to less than 2 weeks from moving and I know this was one of my last runs in this beautiful place. Today wasn’t about miles, which are great. It wasn’t about pace, which is fine. It was just feeling the gravel under my feet, hearing the birds getting their day started, and me finding a way to bid farewell to another chapter in this crazy military journey.

What If

What if…

What if we stopped? Stopped all the busy. What if we put down the 7 things we’re trying to do simultaneously? What if we focused on just one thing?

Could we do it? We record television shows, while we are watching other shows, flipping channels because we get bored during commercials. We have the remote in one hand and a phone in the other. Too bad we don’t have another hand for the tablet.

“What’s for dinner? Hmmm, I dunno. Ooh! I know! I’ll check out Pinterest for some meal ideas! Yeah. *ping* Omigosh. I have to show you this video on Facebook! It’s hilarious! What? No, honey, not now – we are getting ready to eat. *ping*. Just a minute, baby. Mommy will be right there! I just have to send a quick text. The toilet’s overflowing again?! Ugh! Oh, that reminds me – we need more toilet paper. I’ll add that to the list. *dingdong* Can someone grab the door!? What was I doing again?”

Is it just me?

What if we put away our need to always be doing?

What if we put away our yardsticks of comparison? What if doing just one thing didn’t make us feel unproductive? What if we didn’t look over our fences and feel like failures because we aren’t going, doing, and being all the things we perceive them to be doing and being?

What if the person in front of us, the task in front of us, was the only thing that had our attention?

What if?

What if we looked at people when we spoke with them? What if we felt heard, validated, and not like we were competing for a moment of someone’s time? What if we could stop having a conversation with the top of their head, their eyes glued to a screen?

What if we heard, really heard, those around us? What if we validated them? What if we sincerely inquired about someone else instead of being lost and consumed in our own little mind chatter?

Could we be better spouses? Better parents? Better friends?

Could we finally realize that multitasking is really doing multiple things badly?

What if we suspended our “been there, done that” condescension, and were actually amazed by something? What if we were less guarded? More open to express joy, exhilaration, and excitement?

What if we practiced gratitude all year instead of just a few weeks in November?

What if?

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