s a r a h c a s m

Earlier today, I hosted a pity-party for myself.  I do that.  The theme for today’s was my blog, specifically my perceived expectations of my readers and my current lack of inspiration.

I felt bound by my blog, bound to it, and bound by my own expectations of what the content should be, what I should write about, and what should inspire me.  I am not good with shoulds.  So, there I was – feeling restricted by my own perceptions, assumptions, and expectations.

As I was belly-aching on Twitter, I remembered a message I received from a friend a few months ago.  That switched my perspective immediately; I write this blog because I want to share my inspirations and, hopefully, inspire others. You.  My readers.

With the blessing of my friend, here is an excerpt of the message:

I’m writing you to let you know that I value you, that I think you are amazing, that you cannot know what an asset you are to this world.

I was reading your letters to Q and hopefully that what I learnt from you, I can take it back to my home and hopefully restore peace and love. Thank you Sarah for a better understanding of this world.

Beautiful.  Touching.  Humbling.

Perspective.  Always perspective.  Thank you, my beautiful friend (I know you are reading this) for giving me perspective and inspiring me to appreciate what I am doing and what I have done, instead of focusing on what I am not doing or what I should be doing.

Thank you all.

At this very moment, I am sitting beside an open window while the rain pelts down.  I take in the smell the rain-soaked concrete and watch the patterns the drops leave on the glass, which is angled perfectly to catch them.

Lovely.

Life.  Falling from the sky.  The grass will be greener and the birds better fed.

I have been struggling to write about happiness.  Everything I come up with sounds so trite and simplistic.  And… I can’t get Happiness is a Warm Gun by the Beatles out of my head, which is not exactly the inspiration I was seeking.

After struggling for days to craft something inspiring, I started to wonder what the problem was.  What was holding me back and why is it so hard for me to write about happiness? I am a happy person!  Then it occurred to me that maybe that’s why I am having difficulty;  I don’t want to flaunt my happiness.  I don’t want to say Look at me! My life is awesome.  I have no complaints. Why?  I don’t think people want to hear that; people are struggling in their lives – they are unhappy and stressed and sad and lonely and in trouble.

Truth be told, I have reason to be all of those things, too.  But for me, it’s about perspective.  I have more reason to be happy than not and I choose to focus on that; it’s a conscious, active effort in my everyday.  I have the power to choose a happy perspective in my everyday life.

It’s not easy and I haven’t always done it.  I once was the bitter, resentful person who refused to let go of a grudge – weighing myself down with self-pity and projecting my pain onto other people in a futile attempt to protect myself from more pain.  That didn’t work for me.  Happiness provides me with more of a shield than any armour could.

I do my best not to complain – I look at the rain and appreciate the life it brings.  I look at the weeds and appreciate their perseverance.  It’s a choice and it is so liberating.  I haven’t mastered it – far from it.  But, I am getting there and am pleased that my happy moments outnumber my unhappy ones.

Sometimes, I need reminders to shift my perspective; they wait for me to notice them – in my son, in flowers, in bubbles, in photographs, in raindrops on a leaf, in music, in a little smile, or in a clever quote.

My life is happiness.  I don’t have to find it, I just need to chip away at the unhappiness and stress and let it in.  Let it take over.

I am a happy person.  I have moments of unhappiness, but I can’t complain about my life.  It is truly awesome and I am beyond blessed.

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This post is my second installment for Momalom’s Five for Ten. The topic is Happiness

Today we visited the waterfront.  It’s is one of my favourite things to do once the weather gets warmer and nicer.

Water grounds me.  There is something about it that brings me back and gives me perspective – the sound of it, the smell of it, the ebb and flow of it.

There is nothing that calms me more than staring at a body of water that stretches to the horizon.  Boundless.  Powerful.  Full of potential and possibilities.  Unknown and unassuming.

What grounds you?
Does nature give you perspective?

My son love aminals.  Monkeys and elephants are his favourites (and dinosaurs – not sure if they count).  He sees them on TV, reads about them in books, and cuddles up to their stuffing-filled likenesses.

Except for a few pets of family and friends, Q’s exposure to living animals has been restricted to those in cages, behinds bars & fences, and within pens with low walls.

Recently, I realised just how little exposure he got to country living and decided that I wanted to share with him some of the experiences I cherished most as a child – spending time at a farm with the animals and having pretty much free rein to explore.

Last week while visiting my Dad in my hometown, I took Q to the farm I used to frequent as a kid.  My brother, sister-in-law, and their 4 kids (under 5) joined us!

We arrived at the farm at feeding time – the barn was full of sheep and lambs clamouring for food and making a LOT of noise.  A lot.  The farmer’s grandchildren were there – both of whom were under 4… (in case you’re counting, that is 7 children under 5).

As we were adjusting to the smells and sounds of the barn, the farmer’s 23 month old grandson grabbed a pitchfork of hay and started walking around with it.  All us city-folk looked at each other and I wondered when someone was going to rush over, grab it from him, and tell him how unsafe it was and that he should not touch it.  No one did.  He wandered around with it like he did it everyday… and I realised that he probably did!   It struck me.  Here was a boy 2 months younger than my son wielding a pitchfork in a barn, and Q doesn’t even have metal prongs on his cutlery!

I took a mental step back and considered the different ways people live.  What works for one lifestyle and family isn’t necessarily right for another.  It gave me some perspective and made me wonder if I wasn’t giving Q enough credit to fend for himself and take some risks.  At dinner that night, I gave him a metal fork – and you know what?  No eyes were lost and no flesh was stabbed.

After we’d had enough of the barn, we went outside where the tractors were!  Q got to sit in them all by himself – and he hasn’t stopped talking about it since.

Our trip to the farm was refreshing – quite possibly the best day of Q’s life.  As often as I can, I am going to take Q to the farm.  Although he won’t make it there as often as I did when I was a kid, I hope the experiences stay with him and give him perspective as he moves through his life.

It took a pitchfork to make me realise that plastic prongs might be extreme.

How much rein were you given when you were a kid?
How much rein do you give your children?

Dear Q,

Perspective: get it and keep it.

It is so easy for our lives to swallow us up.  We become so immersed in our lives and our ways of doing things that it becomes easy to forget, or not even realise that other people do things differently.

Step back.  Step out of your life bubble and look at your life and those around you with as much objectivity as possible.  Get some perspective.  The more you can see, the more perspective you will have.  Keep that perspective – visit that vantage point often.

Remember that there is no right way to live; the way you live your life is right for you, and the way others live theirs is right for them.  If you are open to how other people live, you can learn a lot from them.

Love always,
Mommy