Happiness?

I've been thinking. I've been thinking a lot these days. I'd like to say I've always been a thinker, but I don't know that it's very accurate. I've always been more of an emotional person. I react on emotion and don't often think things through very clearly. But as I've gotten older I've started to become a wee bit more logical in my process. Anyway, I've been thinking about happiness.



My lovely friend, Caroline, recently gave me a book. "Zen and the Art of Happiness". I haven't read much of it yet, just the first few pages. But it got me to thinking about happiness. How does one be "happy"? What is "happy" exactly? Television, movies, books ... the plots always seem to be about reaching a state of happiness. But how? How does one "get there"? As I was leaving for work the other day I thought to myself that happiness is not a journey. Happiness is a way of being. It is a choice.

I suppose I'm not the first person to have this epiphany. In fact, I'm sure I've dismissed others' similar exclamations. Having suffered so many heartaches in the last couple of years I feel like I could spend most of my days curled up in bed feeling sorry for myself. I so desperately want to press the pause button, stop things from moving on around me until I'm ready to do the same. It's often hard to believe that I can be happy again. Unfortunately, life goes on. It has to.

In February of 2009, my Aunt Laura (another of my dad's 5 sisters) died of lung cancer. Six days after my father passed away, his youngest sister, Mavis, died of a heart attack. She was with us in Kindersley for the funeral. When she received news of Mavis' sudden passing, my Aunt Kathy, the eldest of the family, sat down and began madly writing on a piece of paper. Tara, one of her daughters, asked what she was doing. Her response: "Counting my blessings". This really stuck with me. In difficult times such as this, I have found it helpful to count my blessings. I'll be honest, there's been days when I thought it would be easier if I were gone, if I could join my dad in heaven. I'm not suicidal. I'm just saying it would be easier. But then I think about all that I'd be leaving behind. So here I would like to share some of my "blessings"; things that help me "live happy".

My incredible family. A girl couldn't ask for a more wonderful, supportive, kind, compassionate, loving mother. I truly am blessed that she chose me as her daughter. My brother, Robin ... I can only hope to meet and marry a man as lovely as him. My sister-in-law, Janelle. My bonus-sister. She challenges Robin and brings out the best in him. Thank you. Thank you for being so supportive of our family. My extended family ... I would be here for years if I were to count each and every one of you. Just know that I appreciate you all.



My friends. I wouldn't be me without you. And, if I do say so myself, I'm not too bad. ;) Krista, Krista-Lea, Louise, Nicole, Marnie, Bonnie, Deb, Laura, Caroline, Angela, Brenda, Sam, Tricia, Carli, Shauna, Shauna, Aneeta, Kelly, Lara, Carrie ... There's more I know. More people I can turn to when I need them. Wow. When I write them all out that way it almost seems selfish to have all of these wonderful people in my life!



My god-children and "nieces and nephews". Aiden, Reece, Gabby, Daxen, Max, Gabe.



My "pending niece or nephew". LOL. I cannot wait to meet you little one!!!

My job. Though I joke about not wanting to go to work, I can't imagine working anywhere else. I truly love it there and aim to progressively get better and more knowledgeable every day. To give back in some way, to make a difference even if it's just a tiny smile or giggle, or taking away a bit of a child's pain, I feel lucky to be able to do it.

My home. This is a photo of me sitting on my couch, with my feet on the coffee table looking out the window. That's the Pacific Ocean out there. We have a beautiful home, in a beautiful city. We are very fortunate.



My health.
My education.
My opportunities. I can do pretty much anything I want. I'm lucky that way.
The things I've done. I've travelled, learned, lived.

My dad. You came from such a difficult place, a troubled upbringing. And you protected us from that. You broke the cycle. I never once questioned your love for me. I know that as I write this, tears staining my cheeks, you are with me, keeping me warm, helping my heart heal, guiding me. Thank you.