"You look so happy"

I'm holding his bag and my breath. My baby is leaving again and, even though I know I will survive, the heartbreak feels like too much. I held it together until I released him to the gate agent so she could get him settled in his seat before the other passengers boarded. That's when the first tears started to fall. Since he is an "unaccompanied minor," the airline requires that I stay at the gate until the aircraft is airborne. So I sat there silently crying and reminding myself to breathe while all the other passengers boarded and while the gate agents waited for stragglers and then gate checked all the bags that simply wouldn't fit. For a moment, I thought I had pulled myself together. But then one of the agents--probably trying to alleviate her discomfort at my obvious distress--asked how long he's going to be in Egypt, and I lost it again. The truth is, I don't know. There is no day marked on my calendar for his return.

Eventually, it is just me in the gate area, alone with my heartache, still reminding myself to take the next breath. I am not ashamed of my tears, for it is the only way to express the deep love and pain I feel in this moment. I am so thankful for the time I had with him this summer, but my heart aches with every moment of his absence. And, as I told him before he left, I am okay, but that doesn't mean this isn't hard. Love is joy and pain, and there is no separating the two.

After what seems an eternity, the gate agent nods a slightly embarrassed nod in my direction and gives me a wan smile, the sign that I am dismissed. I make my way to the parking garage but cannot remember where I parked. So, I wander around like a crazy woman, crying harder and literally gasping for breath, with my hand on my heart, saying out loud, "It is okay. You are okay."

Just as I reached my car, I got a text from my oldest son letting me know he was thinking about me, and I began to feel less alone with the burden I had been carrying all morning. That brought a fresh wave of tears, though a different brand, that anchored me to the parking spot for many more long minutes. And when I was finally ready to head home, I circled the terminal twice because I missed the exit due to tears and brain fog.

And that brings me to the picture at the top of this post. It is me, sitting in my driveway, at 8:15 on a Monday morning, the day after my birthday, with red eyes, a puffy face, and a snotty nose. I have been awake since 3:30, and I have been crying a steady stream of silent tears for an hour. I am taking deep, lung filling breaths and am trying to calm myself and put my day back on track, because "crying in my driveway," is not even close to the only thing on my agenda for the day. It is a regular day that still requires me to show up, despite my heartache. Then, as I'm sitting there, I receive a message from a friend reacting to an Instagram post I made yesterday highlighting my lovely week and birthday celebrations, which reads, "You look so happy."

I immediately pulled out my phone and snapped the above selfie because I knew in that instant that I would share this story. My life is beautiful and wonderful in so many ways, and I am beyond grateful for all life has given me. I share weekly highlight posts on Instagram and Facebook as a digital scrapbook for myself and as an efficient way of sharing a glimpse of our family life with friends and family all over the world. Without a doubt, it's mostly pictures of good times. I don't typically take pictures of myself crying in my shower or my closet or my driveway, though there are plenty of those moments as well.

I am wonderfully happy. I am also indescribably heartbroken. These two facts are both true simultaneously. And one of the tricky parts of life for me is honoring both of those equally valid states of being. 

One thing I know for sure is I absolutely don't want anyone sitting in their driveway crying and looking at my social media pages thinking my life is all sunshine and roses and that they are the only ones who are feeling the weight of this very difficult life. I work hard to create and share the happy moments of my life, but those are far from the only moments. We are all struggling in our own ways, but so often we feel all alone with it because we don't see others struggling and "everyone looks so happy." My life is not harder than yours, but the next time you are crying in your driveway, feeling that you are the only one, please pull up this picture of me and know without a doubt that you are not alone.

This moment is your life

When we are little kids, we can't wait to be big kids. When we are tweens, we can't wait to be teens. When we are 16, we want to be 18. And when we are 18, we want to be 21. We tell ourselves when we're thinner, we'll wear cute outfits; when we're wealthier, we'll be happier; when we retire, we'll do all the things we haven't done yet. When life settles down, we'll write that book or take that vacation or play that game with our kids or advocate for that cause that means something to us. We'll do it all later, when the conditions are just right. And THEN we'll be happy. We tend to believe that the next thing (whatever it may be) is the best thing and that our happiness is just around the corner. But here's what I've come to realize as I have sought to make this my year of happiness and joy: the future doesn't exist (and neither does the past, if you want to get really honest). This moment is the only one we have. So we have to choose happiness now. Happiness isn't out there somewhere waiting to be discovered. It can only ever exist right here, right now. And it can only be found within yourself--not in some external person, situation, object, or place. If you can't find it here, you won't find it there. And if it doesn't bubble up from within you, it is only an illusion. Sadly, we spend most of our time largely ignoring the joys of the present because we're so focused on this invisible, imaginary place called the future (or stuck in the equally unreal past). This moment is the only one that exists, which means I have to live fully in this moment, appreciating it for what it is, in order to find real happiness.  

Happiest Person You Know

Recently, my middle son came home from school and told me he had been given an attendance quiz in one of his classes that asked, "Who is the happiest person you know?" He told me a little shyly that he had answered that I was that person. I was flattered, of course, but also somewhat surprised. I do try to be positive most of the time, but, I'll be honest, I have cried more tears in the last two years than I have cried in the whole rest of my life combined. And just a few days earlier, he and I had had a disagreement that did not evoke happy feelings from either of us. But somehow, despite all that, he is still able to see me as the happiest person he knows. To me, it was a realization that the effort I put into personal growth every day is paying off. I am definitely not happy all the time. I lose my temper. I get depressed. I have anxious thoughts. But I try really hard to shut down negative thought patterns when I notice them. And I work diligently and consciously at replacing negative thoughts with positive ones. This work creates pockets of peace in a naturally anxious mind, and in those pockets, happiness starts to grow. I felt inspired by my son's answer to the quiz question to try to continue to be that person for him and for the other people I interact with and especially for myself. As I mentioned in yesterday's post, I can't stand fake, so I'm definitely not attempting to gain the appearance of happy for the sake of some social media post. I genuinely want to keep growing into and becoming, not only the happiest person my son knows, but one of the happiest people everyone knows. My outward life is a reflection of my inner peace. And the more I cultivate peace in my mind, the happier I become. 

I'm curious: Who is the happiest person you know, and why?

Gratitude

Want to know the secret to a happy life? Live each moment of each day in gratitude. That's it. There is nothing more to it. Actively look for things you can be thankful for, no matter how big or small. Make lists of things/people/experiences you are thankful for in your phone. Write them out in a journal. Say them out loud to someone or just to yourself. Ponder them often. When you are feeling disgruntled with a person or situation, conjure up something--anything--to be thankful for about him/her/it. If gratitude is not your default setting, it will not feel natural at first, and your mind will rebel because it's job is to prepare you to deal with problems, not to just sit back and enjoy how good you have it. But when you practice gratitude regularly, your brain will eventually chill out and start to go with it. (But, never fear! It will still be able to help you out with problems when the need arises!) Take a look around at the people you know who truly seem to be happy. I guarantee you they are also the most grateful people you know. 

If you don't already have a regular gratitude practice, here are some of the things that I have implemented (am implementing) that have helped me get in and stay in a thankful mindset:

• I always buy a planner for myself to start the new year that has plenty of room to write on each day. It takes up residence on my bedside table and before I go to bed every night, I write down at least three things from the day or from life in general that I am thankful for. I'm not going to lie, there have been days when all I could come up with was something like, "I'm thankful this day is over!" That still counts! Sometimes I get very specific and sometimes I'm super generalized. Pro tip: It DOES NOT matter what you write. The point is to acknowledge the things you are thankful for--big or small. (And if you can't come up with three, aim for at least one.) I have been doing this for years, and I believe it puts my mind in a peaceful place before bed, and it gives me something tangible to look back during those times when it's more difficult to come up with something. It reminds me there is ALWAYS something to be thankful for! And I think this practice has absolutely made me a happier person. 
• Sometimes when I'm driving to work or on my way to pick up my kids from school, in my car all alone, I speak my gratitude aloud. There is truly something magical about hearing the words out loud. I find this method especially effective when my mind is stubbornly trying to dwell on people or situations I'm annoyed with. It is difficult, if not impossible, to feel both gratitude and frustration at the same time. Thinking and speaking the gratitude simply take up too much brain energy for it to continue to focus on the annoyance. 
• I try (and still need to practice) speaking gratitude to the people I interact with throughout the day--whether that's with a stranger I may never see again, a coworker I'm with every day, or my dearest loved ones who live under my roof. (Note: Those in the last group are sometimes the hardest to show my gratitude to, so I have to be a bit more mindful with them.) If someone holds a door so I can enter, or restocks supplies that make my job easier, or feeds the dog (even if I had to ask them to do it), I try to appreciate the act and acknowledge it to the person. 
• I spend as much time in nature as I can, and I make a point of being grateful for gorgeous sunrises and sunsets, just-right temperatures, beautiful flowers, mesmerizing skies, interesting creatures, breathtaking scenery, quiet places, a rock to rest on, the magic of rainbows, etc. I try to let myself feel awed and to take the time to really see and appreciate the beauty all around me. 

I have by no means perfected the art and grace of living in a state of constant gratitude, but I know for sure when I am in that place, I am happier and more peaceful than when I am not. And I know for sure that a life lived in gratitude is a happy life indeed.