I'm Getting Off the Goal Setting Band Wagon!

"To change one's mind in changing circumstances is true wisdom. "

~ Robert Louis Stevenson

Every year, for the past 30 years, I've spent several days of the holiday season thinking about, writing about, and talking to my husband about goals for the coming year.  Ambitious goals.  Every year I've created elaborate plans to meet those goals. 

Not this year.  No goals, not even New Year's resolutions.  It's not that I intend to become a couch potato, simply veg out, or give up.  But events of the past few weeks have reminded me of a lesson I thought I'd learned when I had cancer, and then again when John did.  The lesson best expressed in that old saying,  "the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry".   

Goals focus on the future.  They contain the promises of success, satisfaction and happiness if only we plan carefully and execute with determined diligence.  If we follow the approach of any one of a variety of goal setting gurus.  Heaven knows I've tried many,  and taught a few to coaching clients. Yet, even in my most productive of years, I've not met all my goals.  

Because life has the inconvenient habit of intervening. Competing commitments arise, new opportunities, new information,  and new relationships emerge.  Then, there's the inevitable disappointments, illness and loss.  In our lives.  In the lives of those we love. Or those we know from afar. 

So this year, I've decided to focus on one simple, over-arching objective - to do something each day to add to the quality of my life and that of those I touch.  That's it.  Right here, right now - to do what I can to be positive and engaged.  To learn and explore new interests.  To take better care of my health.  Right here, right now.  Nothing grand or elaborate.  Little things, like taking that walk when I don't feel like it, or giving John my undivided attention when he comes to share something.  Little things, like turning off the TV to read (or not turning it on in the first place.)  Little things, like sending a hand written note or card to someone with whom I've lost touch or letting someone go ahead of me in the grocery line. Little things like noticing, really noticing the desert sky at dusk or watching our little family of feral cats snuggle up to keep warm.  Those little daily things that can get too easily lost in the pursuit of some future goal. The things that build resiliency and well-being, that strengthen relationships and make a fragile existence easier to navigate.

If I hadn't come to this decision over the past few weeks, I'd like to think I would have these past two days.  If you've listened to the many analysts and sports figures share their stories and memories of Stuart Scott, the  ESPN analyst who lost his battle with cancer yesterday at the age of 49, you couldn't miss the outpouring of love and gratitude  for his acts of kindness and generosity, for his humor and love of life.  This was a man who was respected for his courage and accomplishments, but cherished and valued for who he was as a human being.  He was a man who added to the quality of life of many, many people.  

So, my best hope for this new year is that it be filled with health, love and laughter, and that come this time next year I can say it was a very good year, one of the best ever.  My hope for you is definitely the same.

It's the Simple Things

"There are only two ways to live your life.  One is as though nothing is a miracle.  The other is as though everything is a miracle."

~Albert Einstein

I've kept a gratitude journal for years.  Long before Oprah recommended it.  The practice reminds me to look for daily small miracles.  Keeps me moving just a bit more gracefully through the muck and mire that life can deliver.  Some days I can list a dozen things I'm grateful for.  Other days I simply repeat, "I made it through the day."

After a recent challenging day when I kept bumping into sad and troubling news, I sat down and pressed myself to list 25 things.  I came up with the following:

• the first Bing cherries of the season
• a single beautiful Henry Fonda rose
• the litter of feral kittens using our backyard as their playground
• enjoying a movie matinee with John
• homemade chocolate chip cookies, fresh out of the oven
• an unexpected visit from an old friend
• a glass of wine with a new friend
• the recommendation of a good book that delivers as promised
• an e-mail that brings a belly laugh
• frozen yogurt with chocolate sprinkles on top
• the new season of So You Think You Can Dance
• a phone call from my brother or sister
• a hummingbird hovering over the feeder
• a mug of iced sun tea
• comfortable shoes
• a leisurely early morning walk
• salmon sunsets
• and coral dawns
• a musical performance under the stars
• any Castle rerun
• finding something I thought I had lost
• solving a challenging Sudoku, or a jigsaw puzzle, or a crossword puzzle
• a smile from a stranger
• learning to do something, anything, no mater how small on the computer - on my own
• and always - "I love you"

Small miracles, but miracles nonetheless.  And it helped.  Now, can I come up with another 25 gratitudes?  What would John's list would contain?  Yours?

What a Difference a Day Makes

"In having less, and less to do, we give ourselves a chance to feel rich with contentment."

~ Meg Wolfe

I came across this quote while in the midst of my simplification efforts.  One of several quotes from The Minimalist Woman that served as an inspiration to continue donating, consigning, repurposing, tossing.  

This particular quote, however helpful,  began to niggle at me.   For though I definitely could see that I had less and I had less to do (clearing out the stuff had prompted me to reduce a few of the obligations I had undertaken, and I am retired after all)  I became acutely aware that I  wasn't consistently content.  Oh, there were plenty of moments, but I couldn't seem to sustain it for very long.  Because, truth be told, I have to admit -

I'm a worrier.  And the funny thing is (well, not so funny), that  I wouldn't have acknowledged this a year ago.  Chiefly, because I can catch myself when I start to fret  and then bring myself back to the present.  In fact, I can do this so well that the frequency with which I do this had become transparent to me.  Until a few months ago when, in a conversation, my sister called me a worrier and laughed when I protested. Laughed, incredulously.


So, I started to pay attention and was appalled.  I hadn't realized just how often I had to brace myself against dark imaginings, or made plans for dire circumstances.  Whenever my brother or sister said they were going in for a checkup, I couldn't relax until I heard they had a clean bill of health.  Whenever John would catch a cold or say he wasn't feeling well, I had to catch myself, interrupt my immediate chain of thoughts or I'd go from thinking his lymphoma had returned to my being a bag lady on the streets - a chain that was forged within a nanosecond.  And whenever I forgot something, like where I put my glasses, or a word I was sure I knew, well, you can guess...onset dementia!

Then, this past month John returned to Houston for his annual checkup. The full battery of tests. And I waited to hear if he was still in remission.  And I worried that we might learn the other shoe had dropped - it has been nine years, after all.  Wondered whether this would be the year...  Knew he was worried too, perhaps even afraid.   Vacillated between mere worry and outright anxiety.

The news was different this year.  Not only were his test results good, but they were better than ever. So good that he does not have to return for a checkup for two years.  So good that his doctor is confident that we are out of the woods.  The wonderful news, the miraculous news - that was once one of the worst diagnosis - non-Hodgkins lymphoma -
now has a high degree of successful treatment with the protocol John received nine years ago.  That anyone who has received that protocol - a stem cell replacement - and has remained cancer free for over three years, need not worry about recurrence.

Not worry?!  Novel idea.  In the weeks that have passed since his visit, I have enjoyed the first crocuses, daffodils and tulips of spring. Enjoyed lunch with friends.  Enjoyed watching The Voice with John and catch-up calls with old friends.  Enjoyed walks in the afternoon and reading mysteries in the evening....in short, I've enjoyed a worry-free zone, "rich with contentment."

I am not naive, however.  I realize there will be another challenge, another crisis, just around the corner.  That this may just be a lull in the storm of life.  But for now, for now I want to enjoy it and learn how not to worry about what might be.  Worrying about what is, well, that's enough for anyone. For now, I want to enjoy our tulips.

In the Pursuit of Happiness

I realized the other day that I am happier than I have ever been - and the realization surprised me.  Partially, because I've never really aspired to be happy.  Content, yes; satisfied, yes.  But the word happy has never been familiar.  So, it surprised me to be using it to describe how I feel. 

Being inclined to analyze my feelings, to reflect on my thinking, I have been journaling on this rather interesting state of affairs - did happiness creep up on me when I wasn't looking?  Have I been working toward it subconsciously?  How do I nurture this? 

Then the Feb/Mar issue of the AARP Magazine arrived with the article, "Give Yourself a Happiness Makeover."  Aha!!!  The article answered my questions - so well that I want to pass on the ten things author Dan Buettner recommends for improving one's happiness.  I think they are worth considering.

1. Nestle in the Right Neighborhood - "where you choose to live is one of the most important determinants of your happiness."  Our decision to move to a smaller, more civilized, slower paced community is definitely one the biggest contributors to my personal happiness.  I don't think the size of the city is important - I do strongly believe that the safety, familiarity, and sense of neighborhood is.
2. Stop Shopping; Start Saving - "research shows that financial security brings much more happiness over time than buying things does."   I know we are spending less, but of more significance is that what we are spending on is experiences rather than things - a cruise, musical performances - and oh yes, books.  The library is on my to do list.
3. Make the Most of Your Morning - for a good breakfast and 30 minutes of exercise.  We are doing well with breakfast - but exercise?  Still a challenge for both of us.  I must admit, however, that I feel much better when I have walked in the morning and this reminder is inspiring me to get moving again.
4. Trim Your TV Time - "The happiest people watch less than one hour of television a day, according to a study of 40,000 people who took National Geographic's True Happiness Test."  One hour!!?!  I've acknowledged for some time now that I am more productive with less tv time, but happy?  I'm taping all shows to eliminate commercial time, eliminating reruns unless exceptional.  But one hour?  That's not trimming, it's probably major surgery for many people - me, included.  I'm going to play around with this awhile.
5. Get a Daily Dose of Friends -  the research of Jim Harter, PhD "shows that America's happiest people purposefully plan for social times and get at least six hours a day of interaction with friends and family."  Maybe this explains the power of social networking.  Perhaps because of my generation, I require less hours but more interaction.  E-mails aren't enough. One good telephone conversation can make my day, especially if it's with a sibling or an old friend.  A 'date' for lunch and a movie with John fulfills my needs for the day.  And since we've retired, we try to do this every week.
6. Find Your Soul Mate - well, must admit I don't buy into the concept of soul mates, but I have seen the statement that "people in long term committed relationships suffer less stress and live longer with fewer diseases" enough times to accept it.  I would add, however, that the relationships should be mutually satisfying!  Enduring isn't enough for happiness.
7. Meet, Pray, Love - "research shows that people who belong to a faith-based community - regardless of religion - and attend services more than once a week live as much as seven years longer than people who don't."  I'd like to know more about this as I am acquainted with many happy people who don't belong to faith-based communities.  I have become involved in a Unitarian Fellowship - for the fellowship, the support of like-minded people, not the faith.  Definitely would like to know more about this research.
8. Create a Sunny Sanctuary - ah yes, I have done this with greater success than in any other home I've lived in and I know it has made a huge difference in my morale.  We've just completed the creation of an art niche where I indulge in a new passion, graphite drawing.  It is filled with supplies, inspiration, mementoes...love it.  Makes me smile just thinking about it - created it, bright, a sanctuary.
9. Gain Peace with a Pooch -  a study published in 2011 shows "that pets foster self-esteem, calmness, soothing and a feeling of acceptance."  We don't have pets now because we prefer the freedom and mobility we have without them, but I have noticed how much satisfaction John gets from feeding a family of feral cats that have adopted us, as well as the colony of birds we keep alive over the winter.  And he always has to reason with me whenever I see a Schnauzer.
10. Ignite Your Passion for Compassion - one body of research shows that "altruism stimulates the same pleasure centers in the brain as sugar and cocaine do."  And giving money away rather than spending it on self seems to bring greater happiness.  I would add that for me, at least, I am gaining more satisfaction by becoming more involved in a cause or concern than by only giving financial support.  That's definitely easier to do now that I'm retired, but I have known many people to have been involved while holding down jobs and caring for families.  They probably don't watch more than one hour of tv a day.