Little Joys

You know how people keep saying life feels like the movie Groundhog Day right now? That comparison doesn’t resonate for me in terms of the movie itself because in the film, Bill Murray broke up monotony by learning the piano and wooing Andie MacDowell. In my life, it feels like I’m watching Groundhog Day over and over again because I already know what to expect each day for the most part: work, a walk, and a Zoom call.

I didn’t know until I started writing this post, but a definition of Groundhog Day, is “a situation in which a series of unwelcome or tedious events appear to be recurring in exactly the same way.” So from that perspective, yeah, I’m on board with life right now being Groundhog Day. If variety is the spice of life, my life is pretty bland at the moment. There’s a pinch of variety in terms of decorating my apartment for the holidays, and FaceTiming with my family for Hanukkah, but otherwise it’s pretty monotonous over here.

When I told my mom I wasn’t sure I had anything to write about this week, especially not in a positive or uplifting way, she told me a lot of people likely feel the way I do. They’re glum because they can’t celebrate the holidays with their normal traditions, and their lives are also an endless cycle of work, walks, and Zoom calls. I know folks are feeling optimistic because vaccine distribution has started so there’s light at the end of the tunnel, but honestly, I feel like a little kid because my response is, “Yeah, but how does that help me now?” It doesn’t.

I love this picture. So joyful! Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash

And that’s true. It doesn’t. The question becomes what can I do now, in this present moment, to bring variety? In the middle of writing this post I pulled out my guitar for the first time in years. No agenda, no goal in mind like, “I want to be good enough to play in front of other people.” I just played for me, for the fun of it. I also conducted a science experiment where I mixed two drops of food coloring in oil and then poured the mixture into a glass of room temperature water. The result? Water fireworks because the food coloring separates from the oil and plummets to the bottom of the glass. My inner child loves science experiments and they definitely bring variety.

Often I look to the future to meet my needs: “I’ll feel better when XYZ happens,” and I get stuck on a certain strategy to meet those needs. For instance, “I need the pandemic to be over in order to experience variety again.” What I’m reminded through my nonviolent communication training is there are a thousand strategies to meet every need. There’s no one way or a right way. When I focus on the need itself, I’m able to brainstorm and find delightful strategies in the moment, like creating water fireworks. And sometimes the only way to meet a need in the present moment is to remember a time when the need was met in the past and relive it. The body doesn’t know the difference between the past, present, or future so reliving something can become a present moment experience.

I know this post isn’t like many of my other ones, but I share it because I want people to know they’re not alone. And secondly, it’s my wish that sharing my process can help someone else. And if not, at least I’ll have a reminder of that time in 2020 when I felt like I was losing my mind due to monotony and then played my guitar and watched food coloring metamorphosize in water.

I dream of a world where we focus on the present and what we need in the moment. A world where we remember there are a thousand ways to meet every need. A world where we understand we don’t have to put our happiness on layaway and instead we can do something to change our mood right here and right now if we choose. A world where we indulge in little joys.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.

Celebrating as We Grieve

I feel a little discombobulated. On the one hand, it’s Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, and a time for celebrating. I am celebrating – I’m celebrating that the sky has cleared, I can see the sun again. I’m grateful for my friends, family, and community. I’m taken aback but also profoundly grateful that my business is thriving. There’s a lot to be grateful for.

On the other hand, I’m deeply troubled by what’s happening in the world: the rise in fascism, environmental catastrophes, and oh yeah, a global pandemic, which has not only killed numerous people, but has also led to unemployment and food insecurity. There’s a lot to be concerned about.

I’m reminded here this is always how life has been. Joy is frequently mixed with sorrow and we see that even in Rosh Hashanah services. There’s a part called the Mourner’s Kaddish where the entire congregation holds space for those who have lost loved ones during the past year. People call out the names of loved ones who have died so everyone can bear witness to their grief.

There can be beauty even amidst desolation. Photo by Nikola Johnny Mirkovic on Unsplash

As someone who is prone to black and white thinking, I presume my emotions will operate the same way: I’ll feel ecstatically joyful without any hint of sorrow. But again, that’s not true. This year as all of us are bombarded with one terrible piece of news after another, I continue to pursue joy and cling to it like a buoy in the sea.

I’m reminded here of a poem by Jack Gilbert titled “A Brief For The Defense” that seems especially relevant:

Sorrow everywhere. Slaughter everywhere. If babies
are not starving someplace, they are starving
somewhere else. With flies in their nostrils.
But we enjoy our lives because that's what God wants.
Otherwise the mornings before summer dawn would not
be made so fine. The Bengal tiger would not
be fashioned so miraculously well. The poor women
at the fountain are laughing together between
the suffering they have known and the awfulness
in their future, smiling and laughing while somebody
in the village is very sick. There is laughter
every day in the terrible streets of Calcutta,
and the women laugh in the cages of Bombay.
If we deny our happiness, resist our satisfaction,
we lessen the importance of their deprivation.
We must risk delight. We can do without pleasure,
but not delight. Not enjoyment. We must have
the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless
furnace of this world. To make injustice the only
measure of our attention is to praise the Devil.
If the locomotive of the Lord runs us down,
we should give thanks that the end had magnitude.
We must admit there will be music despite everything.
We stand at the prow again of a small ship
anchored late at night in the tiny port
looking over to the sleeping island: the waterfront
is three shuttered cafés and one naked light burning.
To hear the faint sound of oars in the silence as a rowboat
comes slowly out and then goes back is truly worth
all the years of sorrow that are to come.

As we are all grappling with all the injustice in the world, all the destruction, all the grief, I encourage you to also have the stubbornness to accept your gladness. To find joy when and where you can because the world isn’t one way or another – it’s both, it’s all of it, it’s everything. I’m not advocating spiritual bypassing or whitewashing the horrors in the world. No. Instead I’m advocating feeling your feelings, recognizing it’s true life can be terrible, but also recognizing it’s true that there are babies laughing, flowers blooming, and lovers dancing. That life can also be joyful even in the most horrendous of circumstances. Life, and people, are complicated like that.

I dream of a world where we embrace delight. A world where we recognize joy can be mixed with sorrow. A world where we find the beauty in the world as a tonic to our hearts, reminding us there’s more to life than tragedy. A world where we celebrate as we grieve.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.

The Pairing of Joy and Sorrow

This weekend held a wide range of emotions from the high to the low. On Saturday I went to a bachelorette party for one of my closest friends. We lounged by the pool, chatted, and generally celebrated her impending marriage. It was a joy to spend time with her and other close friends of hers for the sole purpose of having fun. But I had another event this weekend and it was not a bachelorette party.

A family friend of mine passed away a couple of weeks ago and it's sent shockwaves through my community. I say that because no one could have guessed he would have passed away. He was one of the most healthy, vibrant people I knew. When I think of him, I see him with a huge smile on his face, beaming out joy to the world. He was the same age as my parents so his death has me confronting their mortality as well. Layered on top of that, I grew up with his daughters so his death hits me in another way that's hard to express. Sunday was his memorial service and I cried through most of the ceremony.

Seemed appropriate. Photo by Bryan Garces on Unsplash

But here's the interesting part: joy and sorrow get to coexist within me, within us. Even during the memorial service we could hear his grandchildren laughing and playing in the background. It reminded me both emotions can be present. That joy and sorrow can be like the yin yang symbol with a little bit of white in the black and a little bit of black in the white. In my experience life is like that. Attending a wedding can bring up grief about being single. A funeral can bring not joy, but appreciation at reconnecting with friends, even if the circumstances are sad. This weekend was a study in that for me -- pairing joy with sorrow.

Two years ago I wrote a poem about a similar experience following the death of a coworker called "Big Enough for Both:"

Big enough for both
Grief and celebration
A funeral and a wedding
Loss and gain
Hurting and healing
All at once
Altogether
Everything
Everything
Everything

That's what life is like for me right now, maybe for all of us. It's heartbreaking and heart-gladdening. It's happy and sad. It's frustrating and peaceful. It's everything all at once. I want to parse things out and say, "Now is a happy time and now is a sad time," but my life isn't like that. It's messy and chaotic and unpredictable. As I contemplate how to end this post, I can see my friend with a big smile on his face saying, "Don't worry, it's fine," as in, I don't have to make sense of it all, I don't have to try to change life or circumstances. I can be here, in the moment, accepting everything.

I dream of a world where we understand life is messy, chaotic, and unpredictable -- not only in terms of circumstances but also in emotions. A world where we realize the yin yang is an excellent portrayal of our experiences. A world where we understand that oftentimes joy is paired with sorrow and vice versa.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

The Sweetness of Life

For the past few days I've been thinking about how I commemorate those who matter to me. How funny and appropriate that it should coincide with Memorial Day.

What kicked off the contemplation is a recent therapy session where I connected with the spirit of my maternal grandmother through a family constellation. We discovered on a subconscious level I thought the best way to commemorate my grandmother was to remember her suffering and pay attention to my own. That if I didn't remember all the horrible things she and my other ancestors went through that they'd be forgotten. It doesn't make sense on a rational level, but that's the way it goes with beliefs sometimes.

During the session I came to realize the best way to honor my grandmother and everyone else is to live a joyful life. They didn't go through hell for me to live in misery. They want me to be happy, to notice the good things, to live a better and easier life than they did.

Isn't this a sweet picture? Photo by Sandy Millar on Unsplash

 As if to underscore the point, just before writing this post I had a baffling encounter. I visited with my next-door neighbor and their dog for a spell. When I re-entered my apartment, I walked to the bathroom to wash my hands. As I turned, I noticed something on my back. My heart leapt thinking a large spider crawled on me. When I peered closer, I determined it wasn't a spider, it was a bumblebee. I spent literally one second outside crossing the threshold from my neighbor's apartment into mine, and in that second, a bumblebee landed on me. Either that or my neighbor had a bumblebee in their house. Regardless, a strange event.

In shamanism, do you know what bumblebees represent? The honey or sweetness of life, of course. I'd like to believe the bumblebee showed up in an unusual way to emphasize the point. To say, "Yes, remember life is joyful, it's sweet. Keep going in this direction. Remember good things and keep in mind positive outcomes are just as likely as negative ones."

It's not only the bumblebee delivering this message; it's also numerous spiritual traditions around the world. The ancient Hindu scriptures, the Vedas, say, "This quinquelemental world has been born out of joy, is being maintained in joy, and into sacred joy will melt." Yeah! Sign me up for that! In actuality, I don't need to be signed up for anything because joy is already here whether I'm aware of it or not. What I'm working on these days is bringing joy out of my periphery and into the forefront. And I have that wish for everyone.

I dream of a world where we acknowledge suffering but also joy. A world where we feel into the notion that the world was born out of joy and unto joy we shall return. A world where we experience the sweetness of life.

Another world is not only possible, it's probable.

Pursue Joy

It has been an incredibly stressful and busy week for me so I don't have the energy to write a new post. However, all this week I've noticed it's easy for me to slip into the doldrums, to notice all the horrible things going on in the world and overlook the good things. This post from a couple of years ago sprang to mind as a good reminder that we have to actively pursue joy.

A few weeks ago I listened to a radio show by Radleigh Valentine and he said on average, people laugh 15 times a day. Fifteen times! And then he asked, “Do you remember if you laughed at all yesterday?” He pointed out it’s easy to remember the unpleasant things – the times we’re sad or scared or anxious – but the joyful times, the laughing times, are easier to forget. He encouraged his listeners to take note of when they laugh, to see if it adds up to 15 times. And then he said something really interesting: Plan for joy.

Radleigh recommends using this card as inspiration for planning for joy. 

When he said, “Plan for joy,” I wanted to pause his radio show so I could take that in. It hasn’t occurred to me lately I would need to plan for joy – I assumed joy would sort of happen if I bumbled around in my life. But you know? That’s not true – I mean, sure, I stumble across joy every once and a while like an adventurer coming into a clearing – but it wasn’t necessarily something I planned for or actively pursued. I assumed I’d experience joy once my life was peachy keen – when my financial situation improved, the love of my life came along, etc. I think you know this already, but joy is the quiet moments, the small events that we may not remember long after they happen. It’s having a friend call you up spontaneously asking to hang out. It’s laughing along with a television show. It’s finding out the book you put on hold at the library has become available.

Joy can be spontaneous, but it can also be planned and pursued and that’s what struck me the most about Radleigh’s show. In an interesting juxtaposition, I had a powerful therapy session this week. I went from fearful, anxious, and insecure in one moment to laughing, goofy, and joyful in the next. My therapist had me remember a moment I felt joyful, loved, and appreciated, and embody it. She asked me to notice what colors I associated with the experience, and then asked if a movement or sound accompanied it. It did – joy for me looks like strutting with my toes flexed and my heels out singing along to “Let’s go fly a kite” or Life of Brian’s “Always look on the bright side of life.”

What amazes me is no matter how icky I feel, strutting around my cottage and singing, “Always look on the bright side of life,” automatically puts a smile on my face and lifts my mood. I can be melodramatic and get caught up in what’s wrong with my life. Lately, like I wrote on my birthday, I’m noticing what’s right. I’m seeking joy even in the midst of the things I do not like. And I’m remembering joy is not winning the lottery or buying a new car, it’s humming to myself while I walk, it’s remembering all the times I laughed yesterday, it’s making an active effort to improve my mood because I am planning for and pursuing joy.

I dream of a world where we remember we can access joy at any time. A world where we all have that one song that brings a smile to our face. A world where we remember the times we laugh. A world where we not only experience joy, but we pursue it.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.

Plan for Joy

A few weeks ago I listened to a radio show by Radleigh Valentine and he said on average people laugh 15 times a day. Fifteen times! And then he asked, “Do you remember if you laughed at all yesterday?” He pointed out it’s easy to remember the unpleasant things – the times we’re sad or scared or anxious – but the joyful times, the laughing times, are easier to forget. He encouraged his listeners to take note of when they laugh, to see if it adds up to 15 times. And then he said something really interesting: Plan for joy.

Radleigh does angel tarot and he suggested printing out this card as a reminder to plan for joy.

 When he said, “Plan for joy” I wanted to pause his radio show so I could take that in. It hasn’t occurred to me lately I would need to plan for joy – I assumed joy would sort of happen if I bumbled around in my life. But you know? That’s not true – I mean, sure, I stumble across joy every once and a while like an adventurer coming into a clearing – but it wasn’t necessarily something I planned for. I assumed I’d experience joy once my life was peachy keen – when my financial situation improved, the love of my life came along, etc. I think you know this already, but joy is the quiet moments, the small events that we may not remember long after they happen. It’s having a friend call you up spontaneously asking to hang out. It’s laughing along with a television show. It’s finding out the book you put on hold at the library has become available.

Joy can be spontaneous but it can also be planned and that’s what struck me the most about Radleigh’s show. In an interesting juxtaposition, I had a powerful therapy session this week. I went from fearful, anxious, and insecure in one moment to laughing, goofy, and joyful in the next. My therapist had me remember a moment I felt joyful, loved, appreciated and embody it. Notice what colors I associated with the experience and then she asked me if a movement or sound accompanied it. It did – joy for me looks like strutting with my toes flexed and my heels out singing along to “Let’s go fly a kite” or Life of Brian’s “Always look on the bright side of life.”

What amazes me is no matter how icky I feel, strutting around my cottage and singing “Always look on the bright side of life,” automatically puts a smile on my face and lifts my mood. I can be melodramatic and get caught up in what’s wrong with my life. Lately, like I wrote on my birthday, I’m noticing what’s right. I’m seeking joy even in the midst of the things I do not like. And I’m remembering joy is not winning the lottery or buying a new car, it’s humming to myself while I walk, it’s remembering all the times I laughed yesterday, it’s making an active effort to improve my mood because I am planning for joy.

I dream of a world where we remember we can access joy at any time. A world where we all have that one song that brings a smile to our face. A world where we remember the times we laugh. A world where we not only experience joy, but we plan for it.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.

Happiness Not Required

First off, I want to make a distinction between happiness and joy. According to Brené Brown, happiness is tied to circumstance and joyfulness is tied to spirit and gratitude. Even the Greek origins of the word demonstrate that concept. The Greek word for happiness, Makarios, was used to describe the freedom of the rich from normal cares and worries, or to describe a person who received some form of good fortune such as money or health. The Greek word for joy is chairo, which was described as the “culmination of being,” and the “good mood of the soul.”

I’ll admit I’ve been chasing happiness. When I was younger I thought being thin would “make” me happy and later I thought having a boyfriend would “make” me happy. For the past few years it’s been about having the perfect home space. I’ve been chasing a feeling, trying to recreate an experience from my past, believing if I just moved somewhere else then I’d be happy.

"Happiness runs in a circular motion, life is like a little boat upon the sea. . ."

On Friday, I asked myself, “Rebekah, do you really need to be happy where you live?” The answer is, “No.” I realized sometimes my needs and my happiness converge and sometimes they do not. Right now my home meets my needs – it’s quiet, I live alone, I can afford my rent, and I’m surrounded by nature. But am I happy? No. And that’s OK.

To me, being an adult means understanding I won’t always be happy and much like I wrote about in my post “Self-Will and the Magic Pill,” there’s no magic pill or formula or circumstance that will invoke happiness within me. I’m choosing to see happiness as something I stumble upon, something that is bestowed upon me, and not something I can seek.

What I can seek, what I can cultivate, is joy. Joy comes from gratitude and appreciation, from counting my blessings, from connecting with others, and choosing to see the good in my life.

I guess what I’m saying is right now I’m finding getting my needs met are more important than being happy. I’m letting myself off the hook in terms of searching for happiness because in the last two years especially, I find it’s a never-ending quest. How can I chase a feeling? How can I possibly know what elements are required to create happiness? I thought living in this cottage in Oakland would make me happy, and it hasn’t. But instead of trying to do something about it, I’m letting myself be.

Many people find themselves unhappy – they thought the great job, nice car, beautiful house, loving partner, or whatever, would make them happy and it did – temporarily, but then it wore off because happiness is not permanent. Happiness is something that happens. But joy? Joy is an inside job.

I dream of a world where we realize we don’t have to be happy. A world where we no longer seek good fortune but let good fortune come to us. A world where we practice being joyful through gratitude and appreciation. A world where we understand sometimes it’s more important to get our needs met than it is to be happy.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.

Why I Became Physical

Sometimes I wish I was born as a wealthy princess, married to a handsome prince, and my only responsibility was to read books and go for walks. Sometimes I think if only things were a certain way then life would be so grand. But since that’s not my life, I’ve wanted to do as much good as I can, burn as many individual units of karma as possible, and get the heck out of dodge. Because the whole point of human life is to get to Heaven as quickly as possible! Oh wait, that’s not right.

At a particularly low time in my life, a good friend of mine said, “You can’t have the sweet without the sour.” I brushed off his statement because it seemed like a cliché thing to say. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, the world’s about balance. Blah, blah, blah.” What I didn’t realize at the time is you can’t have the sweet without the sour. I didn’t understand it’s the contrast that allows me to experience the sweet. If I had sugar all the time I wouldn’t even know it was sweet because I would become so acclimated to the taste it would become bland. I didn’t realize in order for me to experience joy, I also have to know sorrow. That there can be no “good” without “bad” because oftentimes states of being are defined by what they’re not. How can I know what bliss is if I haven’t experienced misery?

I think about that joke where two fish are swimming in the ocean. The first fish turns to the other and says, “The water’s really warm today.” The other fish says, “What’s water?” If I lived in a constant state of bliss I wouldn’t know what bliss is, much like those fish. So that is why I became physical. To experience all of it. The peaks, the valleys. The joys, the sorrows. Everything in between. Because only I, in my physical body, get to experience that. Angels, divine beings, they don’t get to experience any of it. They don’t know the thrill of ice skating or holding hands with their beloved. But I do. So this is it. The greatest ride of all. Being human. There is no heaven the way I’ve interpreted it. There is no time when I get to feel any better than I do right now. There is no time when I get to experience constant bliss, because when bliss is constant it ceases to be bliss.

I became physical so I could know all this. So I could feel all of my emotions, not just the good ones. A part of me wants to feel high all the time, doesn’t want to ever feel sad or hurt ever again. I understand now I can’t know the joy of a reunion without first experiencing a separation. I can’t understand the joys of eating unless I’ve been hungry. I entered the world to watch birds swooping in and out of traffic, to gaze at bright yellow taxis and tall redwood trees. I became physical to know the joy of a little girl racing toward me with open arms saying, “Auntie!” That’s it. I came for the experience, not the outcome.

I don’t know that I’m making any sense, but much like Licia Berry wrote in her blog, I’m recognizing my spiritual life is experiential in nature. That enlightenment and bliss are not things that happen at the end of my life after I’ve stood on my head and prayed a million times, but rather states of being accessible for me in the here and now. Because you can’t have the sweet without the sour.

I dream of a world where we allow ourselves to experience everything. A world where we know the thrill of love and the pain of separation. A world where we understand the sacredness, and the treasure, of being human because no other creature gets to experience the rollercoaster we do. A world where we have fun, enjoy life, and understand what it means to be physical.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes!

The alternative title to this post could be, “Resistance to change.” I’m at a place right now where I’m happy where I am. Really, really happy. I wake up in the morning feeling rested and well. I accomplish what I want to accomplish and I’m still getting paid. (Thank you severance package!) I’m pleased with the progress I’ve made on my personal growth and I don’t particularly want to go any further, thanks. You know why? Because I don’t want it to be hard. I don’t want to break down anymore of my psychological barriers or plow ahead. I want to languish where I am because where I am is so good! (Who says it won’t get even better?)

I’m basing my resistance to change on past experience I’ve had of breaking down my barriers. It’s been challenging and full of hard work and determination. And I just don’t to go through that again. I don’t want to look at all my issues or face any more psychological patterns. I’ve had enough! I’ve gone far enough! Unfortunately for my ego, I haven’t gone far enough. I cannot stand still. Life is about movement. You either progress or you regress, that’s just the nature of the world.

I’m resistant to change probably because I’m afraid of what it might be like. Of all the hardship I might go through. Of the struggle that’s possible. It’s like looking at a mountain and thinking, “Do I really have to climb up that thing to see the view at the top? Isn’t there an easier, softer way?” No. There’s not. I would LOVE to find the easier, softer way. I would LOVE to engage in a quick fix to get what I want. None of this hard work business. None of this climbing up the mountain. Sadly, it’s not possible. As I’ve heard time and again, the easiest way out is through.

I’m reminded of something a friend said to me about growth and change, “Who said it has to be hard?” (I don’t know, the world?) Is that really true though? Do I have to brace myself for hardship? Instead of a storm maybe I’ll experience a drizzle.

I read a post recently on Love-olution about how sometimes people use the phrase, “I’m only human,” as a get-out-of-jail-free card, as a way of not being accountable or making forward progress. The blogger asked what would happen if we didn’t accept we are “merely human?” If we lived up to our potential as divine beings? I think she poses a great question because according to my beliefs that’s exactly what we’re here for. We’re here to move beyond limitation and lack and to embrace our divine nature. We’re here to merge with Parama Parusa, Source energy or whatever label you want to give it. We’re on this Earth precisely to learn we are not “merely human,” and thus I cannot stay where I am, metaphorically speaking. I have to keep going.

I will say though I’d rather feel excited about the change in me. I’d rather look forward to the growth ahead instead of feeling trepidation about how difficult I perceive it will be. Because who said it will be hard? Maybe it will just be. Maybe I can breakdown my walls and just accept the experience rather than qualifying the process as difficult, challenging or tough. Maybe like all things, it is what it is.

I cannot change the fact I will either evolve or devolve but I can change my perception. Instead of bracing myself for hardship I want to welcome change with open arms. I want to say, “Yippee! Life just gets better and better! With every passing day I move closer to an infinite loving consciousness!” Instead of responding, “Oy vey, there’s still so much further for me to go,” I’d like to say, “Sweet! There’s so much left for me to experience!” because there is. There really is.

I dream of a world where we understand the point of power is in our mind. A world where we understand we can change how we perceive growth. A world where we dismantle our fears and our outdated thinking little by little. A world where we experience joy along the path of progress. A world where we embrace change, recognizing change is not scary, we just think it is. I dream of a world where we look forward to what’s ahead knowing all is well in our world.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.

Being Light-Hearted

“Seven days without laughter makes one weak.” – Mort Walker

Life is funny. Or at least it can be. I think it’s a matter of perspective. In the past I used to have the mind-set, “life is a tragedy” as opposed to a comedy. Guess which experience is more fun?

Yesterday I went to Dolores Park with some friends of mine. We spent a while looking for a good spot – somewhere with partial sun, on a flat-ish part of the hill, a good view of San Francisco, not too crowded – and we found it. I spread my Neat Sheet on the ground, kicked off my shoes, and laid down. I inhaled deeply and noticed a smell. A poop smell. My friends and I attributed it to being downwind from the dog-playing area and didn’t think too much of it. But the smell didn’t go away. We tried to ignore it, talked about moving somewhere else, but stayed where we were. Finally my friend Kyle shifted positions and we noticed a brown spot leaking through the Neat Sheet.

“Is that? Is that dog poop??” I asked.

We lifted up the blanket and sure enough there was a nice, um, spread of feces. Even now I’m laughing about it.

While some people might shake their heads and say, “That’s horrible! How gross!” I instead laugh about it. Neat Sheets can be washed. We still had a good time. No one was harmed in the process (although Kyle joked about being permanently scarred).

I’m not sure if I’m illustrating my point or not but I guess I wanted to say everything is a matter of perspective. Instead of getting upset about a little dog doo I’m laughing about it. Instead of crying, lamenting the situation, or saying, “woe is me,” I choose to laugh. And not just about dog poop but about other things too. I’m choosing to laugh about situations that used to distress me. I’m laughing at God and God’s plan for me. I’m laughing about the craziness of my life and the situations I find myself in. I’m laughing at me. I think God is a big prankster, I mean, how could God not be when you really think about it??

I guess I just want to say my life is more enjoyable, more fun when I’m light-hearted. When I laugh instead of cry. When I find the humor in my situation as opposed to the gravity. When I can say, “God, you’re so funny! You’re such a jokester for putting me in a situation like this!”

And I have that wish for others.

I dream of a world where people experience joy as much as they possibly can. Where they shake off their doldrums and instead dance in the divine rhythm. Where people laugh more instead of cry. Where we all find the humor in our lives. I dream of a world where we know the value of laughter, and not just in a stand-up-comic sense, but laughter when it comes to getting on the wrong bus or sitting in dog poop. Laughter at (most) life situations that could be interpreted with solemnity. I dream of a world where we’re light-hearted and carefree. Where we savor each and every moment of our lives because we experience pure unadulterated joy most of the time.

Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.