Tag Archives: Chocolate

The Inside Job, or Bird With French Fry

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Indeed!  I think that happiness is a choice. Sure, there are circumstances that would challenge even the hardiest of souls, but that feeling of oneness with the universe, the rush of feeling good hormones, why wouldn’t you choose that on a daily basis if you could?

I’ve been getting these prompts from the Daily Prompt, on subjects to write about.  Truthfully, I haven’t felt much like writing these last few weeks.  There’s been a lot going on and I could not focus enough to really say what I wanted.  Unfortunately, I am not one to just put a few lines together and publish.  I like to have a good discussion on whatever topic is buzzing in my head.

So, why happiness as a topic?  There’s already been so much written about happiness, how to obtain it, how to nurture it, medicate to reach it… but it really is elusive.  It’s also an inside job.  Nothing you can buy, sell, eat, or do will create it (although a well-mad apple fritter… comes pretty darn close).  It’s about searching within to express it.  Things start falling into place when you are humble and grateful, and willing to learn.

I am a firm believer that we are not in control of anything in our lives, but our own reaction to it.  We can pray for something not to happen, or to happen, we can think about how we want our lives to be, and then try to manipulate it to happen that way, but really it is not up to us.  The greatest thing I have learned about the quest for happiness is that you have to be completely divested from the outcome.

I applied for a job where I am now, because someone else thought I would be really good at it.  I’m happy where I am now and wasn’t really looking to make a change.  But I did it because I respect the person who told me I’d be good for it.  What did I have to lose?  I made a decision with my Higher Power that whatever the outcome, I’d go along with it as the correct one.  Since I didn’t have any interest in the outcome, I was free to just be myself and answer the interview questions honestly and let my personality and experience come through, instead of worrying about the answers and second-guessing myself into wondering what the correct answer was that would get me the job.

Well, I got the job.

I was as surprised as anyone that in 2½ years here, I’ve been promoted, and extremely well-compensated.  The last company I was with, I was there for 10 years, and hadn’t had a raise or a bump in position in 6 years.  Not even a cost of living bump. And yet I was afraid to let go of the “tenure” I had there, and the perks of working there.  I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Something happens when you’re not afraid to be happy.  You’re happy. And while some think that focusing on what you have and being grateful for it will do nothing but keep you at that level, I believe that being grateful every single day for what you have in your life keeps you open for more good things to happen.

Now, I am not saying that “bad” things will never happen, only that with a change in attitude and gratitude, they don’t seem as awful as they once did, and you can move forward from them a lot sooner than if you let it get to you. Last night, I nearly (probably) died.  I’m certain that would have been the outcome. I was at a t-intersection, made my stop, and was continuing on to make a left turn, when a truck ran the stop sign, at about 50 mph. I literally almost blacked out from the anticipation of the crash, but somehow, managed to slam on the brakes and honk.  The other driver didn’t even try to look like, “Oops! Sorry about that!” or anything showing that it was unintentional.  He just didn’t give a shit. Meanwhile, I’ve got tears streaming down my face, my hands are shaking, and the driver of another car came up to me and asked if I was OK.  I was. Shaken, but OK. Years ago, I would have ruminated on this whole experience for weeks!  Brought it up, chewed on the cud for a while, swallowed it, and then brought it up again just to make sure I’d gotten all I could out of the experience, and repeated. Last night, instead, I went home, hugged my husband, kissed my Pug, related what happened, thanked my guardian angels, and went about preparing dinner. Then I got into gratitude for my wonderful home, my loving friends, the great weather, etc… I just didn’t let it go any further. I did not let it occupy any more of my time because there just isn’t that kind of time.  I would rather spend it on those aforementioned things that are important.

So for today, just make a choice.  Be happy.  Even if the laundry’s not done, your boss is a jerk, you don’t have time for lunch, the dog just peed on the floor…whatever.  Choose to not be angry, and reactive.  Choose instead to laugh (inside or out) at the circumstance and move on.  Don’t give it a moment’s more thought.  Choose to spend your energy on things you have control over. Your reaction. Your helpfulness. Your smile.

I’m telling you, sometimes it IS just that easy.  And if not, well…

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Kind of.  For now, anyway.

Hormones & Hostages – A Love Story

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I have recently found a whole new wellspring of empathy for men. Hard to believe, yes I know, but I actually feel badly when I see them dealing with something so foreign to them as “PMS.” Or for you European readers, “PMT.”

A good friend of mine had the fortune (or misfortune?) to grow up the only brother of three older sisters. While he turned into a man strong in his own right, he is so in tune with women on so many other levels, it is a bit frightening. Most men panic at those three little letters; you can see their eyes darting left and right and the light sheen of sweat suddenly appear on their upper lip… it’s fight or flight at its best! You can actually see and hear their mouth go dry and the smell the gears turning as they rack their brains trying to come up with the right answer to any of the loaded questions that seem to just beg to fly out of our mouths at those hormonal times. Not him. He had it perfectly under control, with no sense of capitulation, nor arrogance, when he smiled knowingly, empathetically, and touched your shoulder – lightly, as he knew how sensitive to touch we are – and said, “I love you.” And you knew he really meant it, wasn’t just saying it to allay your anger, fear, sadness, or any of the other emotions that come flying at you. Or even to get himself out of the bear’s den. He just knew, and he meant it. Then he would go about his own work, not ignoring you, but leaving you alone like you wanted (or did you?). It was uncanny. There was no comeback for that.

I’ve recently started living with someone, and it’s been well over five years since I’ve even had a roommate. As the tell-tale mood swing started to happen, I was like a werewolf frantically trying to hide from the full moon. “If I don’t SEE the moon, perhaps I won’t change!” It didn’t matter; I became withdrawn, sulky, prone to crying jags. I could be in denial all I wanted; I was in the throes of a really good bout of PMS. The bad thing is I’m so in love with this man that the thought of barking at him and hurting him makes me want to overdose on Nyquil and wake up in a week so he doesn’t have to bear the brunt. It’s really exhausting not to be sarcastic! He says the most innocuous things, like, “Oh, wow, Shannon Doherty is really pretty!” while watching re-runs of “SO Graham Norton” on TV and I want to dive over the coffee table and slap his eyes out of his head. How DARE you look at her!! Just because I’m bloated and pimply, is that any reason to be so CRUEL? How COULD you!

Well, thank goodness I’m able to reign myself in and manage a polite, “hmmm” to his off-the-cuff remark. He has no idea. And it’s so funny, I’m angry, emotional, “don’t touch me!” but the thing I really want is for you to just hold me, even though I can’t stand the touch right now. And a special thanks to all those helpful people who say, “drinking 8 glasses of water daily may help with the symptoms of PMS.” Wow. Thank you. Such pithy platitudes from the wrapper of a Kotex pad. “Get more exercise” and “eat more fruits and vegetables at this time” are such a hoot to hear too. Hmmm… OK, great, thank you very much. Let me tell you how it is, shall I? I KNOW that the frickin’ fruits and vegetables would be better for me than the Kettle Chips and Hershey’s Special Dark. I do! Can you not understand that’s like asking a heroin addict going through withdrawals and needing a fix so badly, to shoot up with powdered sugar and expect the same results? I’m sitting here staring at a luscious, ripe nectarine on my desk, and all my thoughts are just running back to the rippled, crunchy salty spicy WHAM of the potato chips I want. I can taste it now – the salt, the starch, that satisfying CRUNCH as it’s masticated on my back teeth – I can feel my anxiety level decrease, my mood elevate, my eyes glaze over as my blood sugar rises and the she-wolf retreats back to my subconscious, till the next time.

Men, let me bring you in on a little secret. This shit is real. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. We’re not drama queens trying to get attention or do it on purpose to punish you, or anything of the like. You know those times when you’re so exhausted that lying down on your bed, and sleep is almost upon you, you can feel its tendrils tugging at your subconscious, and then you shake your whole body, like you were falling and wake up? That’s what it’s like, awake. I’m just blissfully going along my day, and the bottom falls out of it. I feel 180 degrees differently than I did just a few minutes ago. That in itself is enough to depress me even more – the fact that I can be a hostage to my hormones as badly as you can. And I can’t do a thing about it.

If I want a bowl of ice cream, or a chocolate bar, or whatever my crazy mind is telling me would make me feel better, for the love of Mike (and George, and Bob, and Harry), don’t tell me I don’t need it, or that a walk would be better for me. You’re singing to the choir. Deep down, I know that’s true, but come on, better chocolate than your balls retreating up into your body in defense of my bloodcurdling, laser-tinged stare and stony silence that would follow your innocent little quip. If you love me, tell me you’re going on a walk and would love my company. That is going to have more success than anything you might throw out there.