Happiness Journal

During class one day, a professor offhandedly mentioned that his wife keeps something called a happiness journal.  Since my Lenten resolution is to make my life happier and more stress free, I figured that sounded like it would fit in perfectly.  For the past week and a half, I have been recording everything that makes me happy about my day before I go to sleep, and here are a few of the things I’ve come up with:

-On the way to the park, the little girl I babysit for, Avery, asked me why I’m so pretty.  I told her I’m not so pretty.  She told me I sure am.  She is three and a half.

-I ran into Deb Lecklider and Ena Shelley.  They almost always make me feel great about myself.  Today was no exception.

-I walked behind Shelvin Mack coming out of class.

-Banana nut bread was the dessert for lunch.

-Spelling banana just now reminded me of the waitress at Steak’N’Shake on the way home from New Orleans who asked us if it was sad that Gwen Stafani taught her how to spell banana.

-We got a new shipment of cereal.  Today we had my new favorite – Special K with yogurt and fruit pieces.

-I took a walk to Holcomb Gardens with Brendan.  I fell asleep.  I woke up to a woodpecker pecking.

-At the gardens we shared what we would do differently if we found out we were dying.  It made me feel really close.

-My hair looks blonder today.

-The smell of rain

-Butler made it to the elite eight.

-I got a 49/50 on my international communication mid-term

-I felt really pretty.

-I got to celebrate Megan’s birthday with her, Amby and Anna.

-I bought my plane ticket for Ireland.

-I got to see Eric.

-I was on campus when Butler beat Florida.

-I was a part of the Alpha Chi initiation.

-I had a deep discussion with my roommates.

-I helped Lauren try on dresses – and almost break a zipper (that’s a really good story).

-I got a ticket to go to Houston to watch Butler play in the final four.

-I came up with creative final four poster ideas – Duke who?

Looking at the good instead of the bad has really started to change my outlook on my day.  I hope this is something I keep up.

If I Had My Life to Live Over

I stumbled upon some amazing poetry, and I loved it so much I thought it was worth sharing…

I'd dare to make more mistakes next time.

I'd relax, I would limber up.

I would be sillier than I have been this trip.

I would take fewer things seriously.

I would take more chances.

                              

I would climb more mountains and swim more rivers.

I would eat more ice cream and less beans.

I would perhaps have more actual troubles,

    but I'd have fewer imaginary ones.

                              

You see, I'm one of those people who live

  sensibly and sanely hour after hour,

    day after day.

                                             

Oh, I've had my moments,

 And if I had it to do over again,

 I'd have more of them.

 In fact, I'd try to have nothing else.

 Just moments, one after another,

 instead of living so many years ahead of each day.

              

I've been one of those people who never goes anywhere

  without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a raincoat

    and a parachute.

If I had to do it again, I would travel lighter than I have.

If I had my life to live over,

  I would start barefoot earlier in the spring

      and stay that way later in the fall.

  I would go to more dances.

  I would ride more merry-go-rounds.

  I would pick more daisies.

                                              Nadine Stair,

                                              85 years old.

I would have talked less and listened more. I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded.

I would have eaten the popcorn in the "GOOD" living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.

I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.

I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.

I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.

I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.

I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life.

I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.

I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.

Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment realizing that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.

When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later, now go get washed up for dinner." There would have been more "I love you's" ... more "I'm sorry's" ... but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute ... look at it and really see it ... live it .. and never give it back.

By Erma Bombeck -- written after discovery of her terminal cancer

The Invitation; By Oriah Mountain Dreamer (A native American Indian)

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for,
and if you dare to dream of meeting in your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love,
for your dreams, for the adventure of being
alive.                                                                                                       

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon.
I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow,
if you have been opened by life's betrayals or become shrivelled
and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit in pain, mine or your own,
without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own,
if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to
the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be
careful, be realistic, or to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you're telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself,
if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.

I want to know if you can be faithful and therefore be trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty even when it is not
pretty every day and if you can source your life from
God's presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine,
and still stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the silver
of the full moon, "Yes!”

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or
how much money you have.

I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair,
weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done for the children.

It doesn't interest me who you are, how you came to be here.

I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.

I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

Gulf Shore, Alabama, and Mississippi State

Waking up, I felt like I was still in a dream.  I ate pop-tarts on our porch overlooking the ocean.  My hair was blowing as a storm rolled in, and once I finished, I ran out to dip my toes in.  I felt like a little girl; I kept running in up to my knees and running back out because I was too chilly.  I took pictures of the jellyfish that had washed on shore and documented the storm clouds.  I felt like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz; suddenly, the sky got black and the wind seemed like it was going to blow me away.  My surroundings looked like a picture Monet would have painted.  Pretty soon, everyone else woke up and came outside to play touch football.  I had an interception and got to be the hiker.  It was so much fun.  Just as we were making our way inside, the sky opened up and started to wail.  It sounded like the house was going to fall over between the thunder and pounding of rain on the roof.  During the next hour, Brendan and I gathered up our stuff and loaded up the car.  I hated saying bye to everyone.  We made better friends with the people we spent time with for four days than we have during our two and half years at Butler.  We (and by we I mean Brendan) then proceeded to drive the six hours to Mississippi State to meet up with my friend Brad.  I met Brad during YLC, and he and I both went to Washington DC over the summer to be staff assistants.  It was really nice to reunite with him.  He took us to his favorite burger place, and I got a peanut butter burger.  I think it is in the top five best burgers I’ve ever had.  After dinner we proceeded to have intelligent discussion until 1 a.m.  To say it was intense would be an understatement; at several points throughout it, at least one person had to leave to cool off.  Brad, his three roommates, Brendan and I disagree on a lot of topics, ranging from the economy to arrogance to outsourcing.  I thoroughly enjoyed myself.

Day 3 of Mardi Gras

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We were supposed to get up at 7:15 to see both of the last two Mardi gras parades, but some of the people in our house had a difficult time getting out of bed, so we opted to sleep in a little bit and just go to the second parade.  I was not prepared for what I was about to see.  Fat Tuesday is a day for the crazies.  We got to the parade site about an hour before the Rex parade began.  Everyone and their mother (literally) were dressed like it was the most extreme costume party they’ve ever been to.  My favorites included babies in a wagon decorated to be a pirate ship and a man dressed in an all black box that was a blackberry and was passing out blackberries.  The floats in the Rex parade were my favorite; they had Robin Hood, Wordsworth’s daffodils, and Beatrix Potter.  We didn’t catch nearly as many beads as we had during the night parades, but we attributed that to the fact that we were further uptown.  As the parades get downtown, they want to get rid of their beads and aren’t nearly as stingy.  After the parade we all went back to Dylan’s house to pack.  We decided during the parade that we wanted to go to the Gulf Shore house with the group.  After packing the cars and driving for several hours, we arrived at our final destination along the Alabama/Florida border.  Our car had Brendan, Jake (one of Dylan’s fraternity brothers), me and most of the supplies.  We arrived about an hour before everyone because we were supposed to stop at Sam’s Club with everyone to pick up food, but we didn’t know which state to stop in (Mississippi or Alabama), and we picked the wrong one.  That meant we got to enjoy the ocean for a little while longer.  It was beautiful.  The first thing we did was slip off our shoes and run to the water.  I didn’t even realize how much I’ve missed the ocean.  After awhile, we got some cards from the car and sat on our back porch playing a game of oh hell until everyone else arrived.  Once they did, we unloaded the cars, and Brendan and I went out to grab dinner.  The first place we stopped at was too expensive for our taste, so we drove on until we saw something we thought would fit into our budget. The name of the restaurant was Big O’s Seafood Grill.  It was locally owned, inexpensive, and the people who worked there were super friendly.  It was exactly the kind of place Brendan and I love.  I ordered grilled shrimp, and Bren got Cajun crab cakes.  Both meals were delicious.  The only complaint I had was that although the pennants hung up along the perimeter of the restaurant included four Indiana schools; Butler was not one of them.  And not only that, Duke was. To undo the wrong we felt was done to us, Brendan donated his Butler hat to be hung up.  The owner hung it right above our booth and promised to get a Butler pennant soon.  And to compensate, he gave us free key lime pie for dessert.  After dinner, Brendan and I went back to the house to hang out with everyone.  They had a girl’s NFL blitz game going when I walked in, so I joined in that.  It was both comical and ridiculous.  After playing games and hanging out for several hours, Andy, Jordan, Brendan and I took a midnight walk along the ocean.  It was so much fun.  I think we talked about everything.