Happy thoughts …

There’s a scene in Eat, Pray, Love when Elizabeth Gilbert is in Bali and her lover tells her she should choose her thoughts every morning the same way she chooses her clothes.

A friend of mine had the movie on in the background, while she attacked the floor in her hallway with her new Black and Decker power scrubber.

It’s not the first time she’s seen the movie (who hasn’t watched it countless times?), but the words really resonated with her this time around. Her timing, in Continue reading

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The happiness effect …

Actually, just looking at this photo and imagining myself in it makes me happy.  So beautiful and serene.  But what inspired this meditatingpost is a terrific article I read on Facebook last week.

It’s about Matthieu Ricard, a 69-year-old monk who’s being called “the world’s happiest man;” and here’s the link if you want to read it.

He believes that when you think happy thoughts, for even 15 minutes a day, you’ll start getting positive results in just Continue reading

Happy now?

Do you ever watch Super Soul Sunday? It’s one of Oprah’s and can be found on the OWN Network. On Sunday’s obviously. Here, in Toronto, where I live, it happiness2airs at 11 a.m. I have no idea what time it’s on anywhere else.

All I can say is, one of my favourite things to do on Sunday mornings used to be reading The New York Times and meeting friends for brunch. Since I ‘discovered’ this show about a year ago (although it’s been on for about 3 years, I believe), everything waits until after it’s over at noon.

Each week Oprah sits down with another “top thinker, author, visionary or spiritual leader and they talk

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Inspiration for a new year …

I’m reading a wonderful book, thanks to my blogging buddy, Claire, at Word by Word.  It’s called The Hidden Lamp and it’s comprised of “storiesRabindranath Tagore from twenty-five centuries of awakened women.”  I’ve had it for a couple of weeks, but only really started to read it seriously last night.  And am I glad I did.

No sooner did I start the first chapter, than I was greeted by this poem, by Rabindranath Tagore:

“I slept and dreamt that life was joy.

I awoke and found that life was duty.

I acted and behold, duty was joy.”

Magnificent, yes??  And oh-so-inspiring.  At least I think so.

The author of the particular story, the first in the book, tells of how she came across the poem and what it meant to her.  She said:  “They captured a Continue reading

Day 141. Christmas Spirit

Even though I’m not ‘of the faith’, I’ve always loved Christmas. While it has no religious significance for me, I am always buoyed by the ‘spirit’ of it. It’s one of the Christmas deer with ornaments and snowflakes, vectoronly ‘holidays’ when families truly make an effort to be together, regardless of the travelling involved. It’s also a cheerful and convivial time.

Friends and neighbours are always invited to drop in, and wherever you go, you’re greeted by the sound of music, laughter, shrieking children, barking dogs, ice tinkling in glasses and cups clattering on saucers.

You’re also met by the most intoxicating scents, and sights: Toasty fires, glowing candles, colourful stockings hanging from mantels, candy canes, nutmeg, cinnamon, hot chocolate and all manner of cookies, baking away in the oven. And even though I know they’re messy, as far as I’m concerned, nothing beats the smell of a real pine tree in the house. Nothing.

Suddenly, the stress leading up to Christmas is gone. And once December 25th finally arrives, everyone’s mood becomes

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Day 60. A Milestone

It’s been two months, since I first had the crazy idea of attempting to write something new, every day, for a year.  Sixty days.  Sixty stories.  Sixty different topics.  Six hundred and twenty-one tags.  Forty-four thousand, seven hundred nineteen words.

And sixty grande Pike’s to keep me going.

Damn!  That’s half a novel’s worth of work.  That’s one mother load of a blog.  And I’m not even close to being done.  Done in, occasionally.  But not done.  I’ve written on more subjects I could ever have imagined, from aging to atoning.  From beauty to books.  The Caribbean to cycles.  Distractions.  Entertainment.  And fantasies.

On googling.  Health and history.  From ignorance to intentions.  Joy and love.  From mischief to  music and naturopathy.  Politics and prejudice.  Refining to rituals.   Continue reading

Day 4. Flower Power

It’s a dull day here, today.  Grey and overcast, with a threat of thunderstorms.  I woke up to the sound of rain rat-tat-tatting against my windows; and it’s been on again, off again ever since.  God knows we need some rain.  We’ve had an exceptionally hot, humid and dry summer, in Toronto.  But still, it’s dingy out there.

Which has, for some inexplicable reason, made me think of flowers.  Probably because the sight of even a single bloom can brighten any day; and any mood.  No matter how dark.  I love all flowers.  From the simplest daisies to masses of brightly-coloured bougainvillea, trailing willy-nilly over fences and walls.  From tulips that droop gently over the side of a vase, to window boxes crammed full of cascading geraniums and petunias.  Unassuming garden variety posies.  More exotic varieties, like orchids and calla lilies.  I even like buttercups.

Sometimes all it takes to make me happy are a couple of sunflowers, cheering me on.  Sometimes I crave something much more over the top — like  dozens of the palest of blush-coloured roses, informally ‘plopped’ into an old cut glass bowl my grandmother gave me.  And sometimes I want to play, mixing all kinds of different flowers together, in colours that range from fuchsia to scarlet to burgundy to almost black — shoving the whole bunch of them into a shocking, deep turquoise pottery pitcher.  It all depends on my mood.

But all this talk about flowers has sparked a memory, of a glorious month-long trip I took to India a few years ago.  Talk about flowers!

I could write dozens of stories about that trip (and perhaps I will), but this time I’m confining myself to an experience I had on our last day there.  We were in the Continue reading