A year ago, we started an experiment. we called it a Happiness Jar.
The devise was to fill a high Mason jar with a happiest impulse of a day, each day, afterwards review them all during a finish of a year.
Sometimes a year can kick we up. The comparison we get, a some-more people we remove or worry about losing. Last year, my crony Toby died, my cousin Leslie died and my aunt Helen died. My sister survived cancer and my hermit had open heart surgery.
You can also get sucked down a hole that is Facebook and trust a whole universe is during interest each day with disharmony and difficulty prepared to vanquish your each joy, if we let it.
Simply grow your complacency muscle.
Last year we was removing a bone firmness exam and fretting about removing osteoporosis when suddenly, fun entered in to remind me: “You’re not being scanned for cancer like we were 20 years ago. You GET to be 61.”
Yes, we mislaid my crony Toby, though we got to assistance my crony Don write his eulogy. Yes, we mislaid my aunt Helen, though we got to hear polka song during a job hours where her children told me she sang “You are my sunshine” to a hospice workers.
Yes, my cousin Leslie died during 61 from a large heart conflict during work, though we all left his wake prepared to live some-more vibrantly.
Life can go by in a blink, folks. Don’t rubbish any of it being unhappy.
So, what was in my complacency jar? The large stuff: Our son’s wedding. A outing to Disney World, Ireland and Maine. A vacation to a beach with a kids and grandkids Asher, 8, Ainsley, 6, and River, 4.
But mostly? Moments. Lots of moments:
Watching my niece’s new baby widen her fingers open in delayed motion. Seeing Asher reason his new cousin’s baby palm for a initial time.
Asher shouting himself stupid over Laurel Hardy perplexing to pierce a piano adult 133 steps. Ainsley personification investigator to establish what was wrong with all her baby dolls, all 12 of them. Being a guest during her Ooh La La Spa when she said, “Let’s start with soothing music” afterwards took out a fondle shriek and played for me.
Opening a drawer of my nightstand to find a sketch and Tootsie Pop River left for me – that she ate a subsequent time she came over.
Feeling a yank of Asher’s arm around my neck as he pulled me in closer during a family photo. Seeing River pitch herself in a backyard for a initial time and conference Ainsley review Curious George books aloud to us.
Feeling chickadees eat sunflower seeds out of my palm during a sirocco during a Brecksville Reservation. Driving down a nation highway with a windows down and a radio blustering nation music. Baking my mom’s thumbprint cookies and feeling her presence.
A uninformed smoke-stack of library books. Free ice cream cone day during Ben Jerry’s. Walking opposite a Brooklyn Bridge. Laughing over lunch with a friend.
The impulse Ainsley let go of my palm and soared on those ice skates. Listening to her and other campers sing “Paperback Writer” on a theatre during Fairmount Temple.
The note on my windshield left by a foreigner who scraped my automobile and had a beauty to leave his phone number.
Laughing in a outpost with a grandkids each time their father plays playground music. Watching a film “Bad Moms.” Twice.
My father bringing home my favorite Mitchell’s ice cream. My son-in-law promulgation me flowers a week before Mother’s Day so we could suffer them all week. Seeing a fun in a daughter when she talks about a flowers she designs for weddings.
When River dresses herself in a bunny hat, pinkish mittens, 3 dresses, shorts, leg warmers, socks, 6 span of undies and light-up sleet boots. Ainsley in her pinkish sleet pants, pinkish cloak and pinkish trek looking like a pinkish astronaut.
Some days, it’s simply a smell of a crabapple tree blossoms before they spin into pinkish snow, a hunger tree fluttering hello or an electric gray sky and a smell of sleet prepared to descend.
Other days, it’s a changed moments when we remember to be kind, to move home sushi for my father or let a grandkids use my favorite markers or give a foreigner 30 mins on a parking meter.
It doesn’t take most to be happy.