The pursuit of happiness

Many, if not all of us, pursue happiness. But how is happiness discovered? One line of thought is that happiness is created; you go out and actively create the life of your dreams, at which you will be met with happiness as your reward. An other, perhaps less popular, belief is that we need to learn to be content and satisfied with what we have, at which point happiness will find us. Over the past one or two years, however, I have been exploring the possibility that perhaps joy already exists within our world, and is just waiting to be unveiled. Perhaps happiness is really about attention to what surrounds us.  I wonder, if we surround ourselves with things we love and feel passionate about, will we necessarily be happy? We will necessarily feel fulfilled? We can provide ourselves with an abundance of opportunities, people, and gifts, but what if we achieve everything we want and still are left feeling empty?

I think that many opportunities to feel joy are missed in life. What happens if you lie next to your partner on a rainy day and ignore the shape of their body, the sound of their breath or the pattern of the rain falling on the window? What happens if you prepare delicious meals for yourself but ignore their taste and drown the sensation in the noise of the television or the chatter in the mind? What happens if you rush into your car and into work each morning without pausing to smell the air and notice that the clouds have parted just so to let in a rare ray of sunshine in an otherwise grey day? Gifts are given to us on a daily basis, as are opportunities to delight in sound, sight and sensation, and too often, we miss it because we haven’t the patience or discipline to pay attention.

In a yoga retreat, a fellow participant said something during a dharma talk about contentment that always stuck with me. She said that it’s partly about “knowing when you’re content.” We need adequate time and space – thoughtful space – to reflect and say, “this is a great moment.” Without that freedom of headspace to acknowledge beauty when it makes it appearance, or to celebrate joy when it comes fleeting into our hearts, we might never find happiness.

As I pack my life with greater and greater goals, I want to leave enough space to re-unite with these gifts. To permit enough time in my day to pause and look out the window, or to silence myself long enough to notice the beautiful simplicity in the hum of the washing machine, a beautiful quilt on the bed, a kitten bunking down upon said quilt to prepare herself for an evening snooze.

I’ve often blogged about simple pleasures and readers have often chimed in, freely celebrating the humble but satisfactory joys in their life. But I think it goes beyond the ability to enjoy frugal luxuries. It’s about actually deepening an awareness and appreciation for what life already is. It’s about giving yourself the freedom to acknowledge that you might already be happy.

An explorer in the world

I haven’t been blogging recently, partly because I’ve been suffering from a bit of writer’s block, and partly because I’ve been busy – not just too busy to blog, but also too busy to do many of the traditional frugal activities that I frequently blog about. But the busyness has been good. I’ve been busy at work, but with a variety of interesting activities – giving and attending skills building workshops and trainings, preparing for conferences, organizing a staff retreat, finishing up a social marketing campaign. And in my spare time, I’ve been out having dinners and discussions with friends, attending lectures and community workshops and spending time with family.  I’ve taken some steps towards completing my annual fun goals list. I’ve started climbing again, I went to see a band play that had a big cult following around here but was completely new to me, and I’ve started planning my Hawaii trip. I also have some tentative plans shaping up for New Years which might include several of my “outdoorsy” goals. And I’ve been participating in activities that aren’t on the list, but which would certainly qualify as new and interesting.  When I think back to how difficult my last year was, I recognize now that I’m feeling back in the game, that is the game of enjoying life and feeling alive again.

I don’t often write about my job, but I want to write about it tonight. I work for an AIDS Service Organization, running a program for HIV positive people that provides skills to improve overall health, foster community engagement and facilitate involvement in HIV prevention efforts. I’ve learned so much from the participants in this program.  As a former social researcher, with an educational background in social justice, I really thought I knew the world, but I didn’t. I can’t believe how much I feel awakened by learning about other peoples’ perspectives and life experiences. What it’s like to live with HIV, and the variety of experiences within that category. What it’s like to live with stigma. What it’s like to have an addiction. What it’s like to lose your children. What it’s like to live on the streets. What it’s like to be gay. What it’s like to live with homophobia. What it’s like to be discriminated against at the hospital, or at work, or by the government, or by your family, or by all of the above. Broadening my depth and breadth of knowing the world has been such a fulfilling experience.  It’s a real awakening, and I’m grateful to the people who have shared their experiences with me. I always wanted to work in this field because I thought it would help me make a difference. But I think it’s made me a better person.

What could we want more than just to know our world? I want to be an explorer in life. That’s why I studied Sociology, because I found the world around me fascinating. Its quirks and strangeness intrigued me and I found the eccentricities of every day social life endearing. I adored the mysteries and curiosities of social life and wished to know it better.  How lucky I am, then, that in the past year of this work, I have learned so very, very much.

So this is a note to say, unequivocally, that life is not about the acquisition of stuff. It is not even about the acquisition of knowledge. It is about exploration, adventure, understanding. It is about learning, growing, being touched by other people, discovering a richness to life, learning about compassion.  At this moment, I don’t care if my world view is different from the mainstream. I don’t care if I haven’t passed the milestones of marriage, children, home ownership, or a corporate ladder.  I’m learning about the world, the people in it, and what it means to be human.  What could be better than that?

Finding peace at home

Have you ever been tempted by a gorgeous photo of a dream vacation spot? The pictures usually include a woman with a gorgeous body, lying in a hammock over turquoise waters with a drink by her side. Her facial expression epitomizes relaxation. It’s instinctive to immediately think, “I want to feel like that, too. I want to go on vacation.” We want the feelings that are being emitted from the advert – serenity, peace, total mind and body relaxation.

Have you ever actually taken one of these trips only to feel as though something was missing?  Have you actually been surrounded by a gorgeous setting – a beautiful beach, a sunset, a luxurious hotel or a quaint bed and breakfast, only to feel as though you can’t quite grasp that total peace of mind you thought would automatically accompany this change of setting?

Although we are naturally affected by our physical surroundings, I think that it takes more than a change of scenery to achieve a sense of inner peace, even briefly.  It take practice, the practice of mindfulness. This is actually good news because it means we can grab that feeling displayed in the advert, hang on to it and revisit it multiple times a day.

Lately I’ve been in awe of the natural beauty outside my window. Thanks to plenty of rain, the trees outside my high-rise apartment window are in full-bloom. It’s quite magnificent. I open up my blinds, and I have a full view of green.  I’m only going to be living in this apartment for a couple more months, and I’m taking full advantage of the view now, while I can.  And I find, with some surprise, that it is exceptionally easy for me to enjoy it fully and meaningfully, in solitude.  I find myself, some evenings, just sitting in my chair, which is pointed at the balcony, watching the colours of the sky change. When I get home from work, the trees look yellow with the bright light that prefaces dusk. The sky is a bright cheerful blue. And then it changes, into white, then into a deep blue, then into an even deeper, cobalt blue. I see many gradations of colour until ultimately the sky becomes black and I can’t identify any more colours.

I’ve been paying attention to smells more as well. This weekend the weather was humid and in the mornings, I enjoyed the smell of the air just before it rained. You know, that luscious, scented air that, I think, gives way to positive memories. (At least it gives way to positive memories for me, of working on the farm, of summers long gone.)  This morning I took a breath and smelled at once that fresh, morning, pre-rain smell, which then tapered into the scent of freshly brewing coffee.  I caught both smells in an instant; it lasted less than a second, but it was wonderful.

At night, new sounds and smells. After chirping all day long, the sympohny of birds outside my window quiet down and their song is replace by… something. A humming noise.  It sounds like tree frogs, but that can’t be it.  And it’s much too early for crickets. So I’m not sure who is making the sound, but there is a peaceful little noise, probably made by some other insect. Just sitting and listening to it, and feeling the breeze flow in through my open window, is the perfect peaceful moment before bed.

Tonight, I finally ate a meal in silence. My mind was not completely quiet, but I was free of distractions such as television, books, or computers. Just me, and the meal I prepared for myself. For some reason, it felt less lonely to eat alone tonight. I looked outside my window while I ate, and then gazed at my little companion, Butternut, who slept in the easy chair beside the table, her pink nose looking especially cute and bright as it nestled up against her clean, white paws.

The past week I’ve realized that even within the context of my life today – which is very good, but far from “perfect” or easy – that these moments deliver that sense of ease, that sense of perfection, that the adverts proclaim to deliver in exchange for hundreds or thousands of dollars.

These moments are here for everyone to enjoy. I’m finally articulating what I really wanted this blog to be about all along. I want to participate fully in life, finding peace and true joy in life itself, not pursuing empty goals, meaningless distractions. We spend money on expensive trips and vacations, when so much can be found right here, right now, today, in this very moment.  I adore traveling and I love vacations as much as the next person, but we so often forget that what we are seeking is really available to us at anytime, anywhere. And it doesn’t cost a penny; it only costs our attention, our willingness to be attentive.  This requires some risk-taking and some discipline, but it is so very rewarding.

What’s next? I’d like to practice this more. Making time to enjoy the views, to pay attention to smells, to practice eating in silence and distraction-free.

Have you been enjoying any practices of mindfulness lately? Do you find it helps to satisfy your goals of frugal, simple abundance?

Finding serenity in the everyday

Last week, Gail Vaz-Oxlade wrote a blog post on serenity.  I love that Gail reflects on what’s important in life, and what brings us joy, in addition to financial matters.  I particularly valued this paragraph:

Serenity requires that you learn to be by yourself, quiet, alone. So many people fear the loneliness they may feel that they pack every minute of every day full of action. We often teach our children to fill every minute with movement. Getting stuff done has gained prominence over Just Being. And it’s too bad because in filling up our lives we are leaving no room for serenity.

I posted a comment, that I’ve decided to re-post here:

I love seeking out quiet moments whenever I can, and since I now live in a quiet town and live alone, I have an abundance of solitude. Serenity is very important to me, and I get to create an environment that promotes that.

Serenity can come in many forms, though. Usually we think we have to race through the days, weeks and months until we can finally go away on vacation, and we’ll enjoy rest and serenity then. But it doesn’t haven’t to be so.

Sometimes I find moments of bliss just standing in an elevator. Or walking in the door to my apartment. Or in any number of mundane activities where I wake up and realize that I am Alive, and I am Free, and that those are two very good reasons to rejoice.

Readers, have you found a way of discovering serenity, even within the context a busy life?  How do you seek it out?  Where do you find it?

Speaking of emergence…

And just to follow up with the previous post, I thought I’d share a Pema Chodron quote, which seems to speak to this idea:

At the beginning joy is just a feeling that our own situation is workable. We stop looking for a more suitable place to be. We’ve discovered that the continual search for something better does not work out.  This doesn’t mean that there are suddenly flowers growing where before there were only rocks. It means we have confidence that something will grow here.

I love this. Not only does it imply that there is beautiful potential waiting to reveal itself amidst difficult times, it also affirms that we don’t always need more, we don’t always need different, we don’t always need change, in order to find  exactly what we’re looking for, exactly what we need.  Sometimes we just have to live more deeply, right where we are in this exact moment, in this exact life.  Always so eager to change, looking outward, we seek to solve problems, find solutions, and soothe our discomforts.  What if we just simply payed more attention to exactly what we have, right here, right now?  Each breath, each touch, each smell and each sound? What if we focused on the people we already have in our life and found ways of listening more carefully, of loving more compassionately, of spending more time together, instead of looking for new relationships? What if we tended to our existing possessions instead of buying more, spent more time in our own communities instead of traveling?  There is so much potential in truly experiencing what life we have. How much do we notice, and how much do we forget?

Emergence

On the weekend I took a hike through the wooded area behind my parents’ home.  I took a few pictures, intending to write a post about how little we all need in order to feel really relaxed and happy.  But that’s not what this post is about.  Because when I looked at my photographs, although they weren’t particularly beautiful, they seemed to very clearly reveal a theme: emergence.  The tiny buds in these pictures are pushing up from underneath the piles of dead, grey leaves, and here they are; following a cold and inhospitable winter, they emerge with new life and potential.

It made me think of my own emergence.  It’s been about 9 months now since a big change in my life occurred, and although I’ve decided not to document the more personal aspects of this journey on the blog, suffice it to say that the change has indeed been challenging in many ways.  But I’ve been blessed with so much goodness, so many discoveries.  I’ve met so many fascinating people, who have deeply inspired me with their intelligence, curiosity, compassion, and zeal for life.  I’ve had the opportunity to explore and observe fascinating new sub-cultures, perpetually opening me up to explore new ways of thinking, of living.  I’ve found a new job that is really more than a job, I’ve found an opportunity to devote my life’s energy to a goal that I can finally say is consistent with and supportive of my values.  What’s more, the past 9 months have given me the opportunity to explore my freedom and independence, to re-acquaint myself with my forgotten strengths, to watch some of my old handicaps melt away.

My main life’s goal has always been to lead a compassionate life, and  I’ve always known that I have wanted to devote my life to helping others. Beyond that though, I think that my biggest goal is simply to live an interesting life.  To live with curiosity, with fascination, and with enough neutrality to observe the curious human position without too much judgement – to observe and engage, to experience, to live with awareness and to experience a range of human emotion and possibility.  And so, without having everything in my life “figured out,” without having everything settled, I can still be incredibly grateful for this fantastically interesting life.

I think my pictures posted here speak for themselves; where the ground is hard and grey, lies the potential for new transitions, new awakenings, new growth. And such is the cycle of this fascinating life.

Calculating carbon: a frugal household is a green household

Shopping Golightly at The Thrifty Chicks encourages us to count carbon, just as we count calories. I wish I could take a literal approach to her idea. In particular, I wish there was a really good carbon footprint calculator out there that would let us track our monthly or yearly progress.  Sure, carbon footprint calculators are easily found on the internet, but most of them are too simplistic to give an accurate, complete picture.  A good many of them are only accessible to United States citizens, but even those that are applicable to Canadians are limited to calculating factors like transportation, gas, electricity and so on.  I have yet to find one that takes a variety of lifestyle choices into consideration.  Tracking progress and seeing results is such an important component to success; whether we’re talking about dieting, saving money, or putting extra hours in at work, we need to know that what we are doing is making a difference. It helps us to stay motivated.

I’m starting to wonder about what kind of inadvertent (positive) effect my frugal choices have had on the environment.  For example, I thrift instead of buying retail – in fact, during the last 6 months, I’ve only purchased three items of clothing from retail stores – the rest of my purchases have been made at thrift stores. I eat vegetarian about 80% of the time.  I usually drink coffee at home instead of buying out. I use the Garden Fresh Box program and frequently shop directly from market vendors or farms, which means that the bulk of my produce is local, and I rarely require plastic bags.  After learning a few tricks from my readers, I have reduced my electricity consumption and now air dry most of my laundry and dishes, avoiding the drying cycle in the dishwasher altogether.   After my old clunker of a car kicked the bucket, I bought a new, more efficient vehicle.  These are more obvious choices that help to reduce environmental impact – but what about waste reduction in the kitchen? My efforts to create a DIY-kitchen, with homemade foods of all kinds – including snacks, cereals, sauces, and junk food – means that I am less prone to buy ready-made food products that come a box, can, or plastic wrapping. In fact, I used to rely on a lot of pre-packaged, often individually-wrapped, wasteful products, which I now make from scratch.  What kind of impact is this having? Although it might be small, I wouldn’t doubt that the accumulation of this kind of living has got to make some kind of an impact over time.

Included in the carbon footprint calculator should be a question related to how many pets you have and what type.  I recently read in The Star that feeding a medium sized dog for one year has twice the environmental impact of driving a luxury SUV for 10,000 kilometres.  I must say that I question the research behind this finding – according to the article, the researchers “based their calculations on the amount of acreage needed to sustain the dog’s diet of 164 kilograms of meat and 95 kilograms of cereals in a year.”  But most dog food, if I’m not mistaken, does not use “meat”, it uses animal by-products. By-products include the leftover feet, necks, intestines and other “nasty bits” that are not considered usable meat.  So although it obviously takes energy to grind and process the by-products, we should not count the total amount of energy required to raise livestock.  The livestock would be raised for other purposes anyway – if we didn’t use the by-products for dog food, it would probably be thrown away.  This, I’m guessing, significantly reduces our pets’ carbon pawprints, so don’t feel too guilty about having your pet just yet.  Nevertheless, it is still another mouth to feed, and if we want to be realistic, we would want to include our pets as part of our households. So far I’ve yet to see a calculator that takes a dog or cat into account.

Which brings me to a final rant, ahem, point.  Pets are worth having. Children are worth having. I hate it when we get into these debates about whether or not we should just kill each other or off ourselves in order to save the planet. The point, I think, is that we need to rethink our values.  My frugal philosophy is to reduce waste and focus my financial resources on lifestyle choices that are consistent with my values.  Likewise, animals and families are worth fighting for – we don’t want or need to eliminate them altogether; quite the contrary.  The whole point of environmental sustainability is to keep on living, and living joyfully.  We need to sacrifice the things that matter less in order to keep the things that matter.

A frugal household, it seems, is a greener, less wasteful household.  I’d like to find a way to track just how much less wasteful it is.

Fields of gold

Nothing, I believe, captures the essence of life’s beauty, wisdom and enchantment, quite like nature. When I was a little girl, I spent quite a bit of time on my nana’s farm, traipsing through the woods, building forts and rafts and playing in the gully with my sister and my cousin.  In the fall, my favourite time to explore, I loved the hearing the crunch of the harvested soybean fields under my feet, climbing on top of hay bails, and admiring the colours of the surrounding trees. Spending time in the country at an early age meant that as an adult, I’ve been able to respect and appreciate the secrets that can be found in a fall day, a field or forest. It’s a great gift.

This weekend we were blessed with some of the early-fall weather one hopes for on labour day weekend.  Warm sun, low humidity.  Gentle breezes. Evenings cool enough to demand a sweater and a pair of jeans, days warm enough to do, well, just about anything you feel like.

My nana’s farm has just been sold, and this weekend I went out one last time to explore. I was accompanied by both my parents. We spent our time collecting wild elderberries for a pie, and my mom helped me pull together a nice collection of wild flowers, which I will experiment with, by drying.

We collected enough elderberries for at least 2 pies, which we will make for Thanksgiving. To preserve them, we picked off all the berries from the stems, placed them in an air-tight plastic bag along with a paper towel to absorb any moisture, and froze them.

This weekend we were also blessed with the opportunity to see some wildlife.  While we were eating dinner one evening, we looked out the window and saw a beautiful hawk, sitting at the feeder.  He wasn’t feasting on bird seed, but was eyeing a much more satisfying treat – the plump, naughty chipmunks who like to gorge themselves on, well, everything in the feeder.  

Earlier that day, as my Mom and I sat outside, reading magazines in the sun, a hummingbird buzzed between us, circling around my Mom’s head. I’d never seen a hummingbird that close-up before, and hearing its little wings whirr like a piece of machinery was a true treat.

At the farm, I also discovered a black and yellow garden spider, an orbweaver apparently common to this part of Ontario and frequently found around this time of year. It loves goldenrod, and a big patch of goldenrod is exactly where I found it.  Normally, I am deathly afraid of spiders, but somehow this majestic insect captured my attention in an awe-inspiring, rather than panic-inducing, way. Its colours, interesting web, and unique shape and size, are actually quite beautiful and fascinating.

What many of us are seeking in our lives can really be found quite easily, quite simply.  It’s easy to always want something more – a luxury vacation, new clothes, more stuff. But truly, we make life more difficult than it really needs to be. A lot of peace and fulfillment can be found in a field of goldenrod, an elderberry bush, and even, if our hearts are open enough, a spider web.

The basic necessities

Something about Gail Vaz-Oxlade’s blog post yesterday, Our Love Affair with Stuff, prompted me to share something that’s been on my mind for a while now.

I’ve been volunteering at a local AIDS Service Organization (ASO), interviewing clients (recipients of care) and writing their stories. All of the clients, who are PLHAs (people living with HIV/AIDS) have contracted the disease in different ways, shattering the myths that unfortunately still proliferate about how the virus is transmitted.  One of the clients I met had been raped. One was infected by her abusive, cheating husband. Others had been chronically homeless and addicted to crack cocaine, which put them in precarious positions. Others suffered terrible tragedies and loss, and temporarily lost the will to protect themselves.  

But the client who had the biggest impact on me goes by the name Alex*. Alex has suffered through a very traumatic upbringing, and he was diagnosed with HIV when he was just 17 years old.  Although he is only 31 – just a few years older than I – he looks about 10 or 15 years his senior.  He was homeless for years and addicted to drugs. But thanks to the ASO, his life has changed dramatically – primarily because he now has a roof over his head.  The Executive Director helped him find subsidized housing, which is something that has impacted every area of his life. The ASO has also provided him with some clothing, food, and counseling, and helped him to learn how to make his doctor’s appointments. (Meeting appointments is not something that comes naturally to someone who has lived on the street for many years.)  With the assistance of the ASO, Alex has been drug-free for over 1 year.  When I asked Alex if he is happy, he looked at me as though the answer was obvious:

“Well I have a roof over my head and food in my belly, so hell yeah, I’m happy!”

What a difference the basic necessities in life can make.

*name has been changed.

Reflections on abundance

After a wonderful trip to Newfoundland, I returned to my apartment with a heavy heart. Unsurprisingly, I am profoundly aware that someone is missing, and I would be lying if I pretended that I am not full of sadness over this loss.  I’ve also realized, though, that a lot of people are going through challenges right now.  The recession has meant that people who have worked long and hard, who have made sensible financial decisions and have attempted to mitigate risk well, are still in troubling circumstances.  And tough economic times strain our relationships, too.  I know I’m not the only one who is facing a difficult time and who is rethinking the future, or questioning the past. The best we can do is to accept that life is not straight-forward; there is no clear cut path to so-called success.  We can do our best to work hard and make good decisions, but rarely does the future appear just as we’ve planned. This is, it seems, both a hard lesson to learn and a fact of life.

I try to stay focused on the present as best I can, and recognize the impermanence of this moment. Life is changing – it changes constantly.  Things we take for granted become but memories, and angst we feel disappears into something new.

I am not trying to stop myself from feeling sadness, but rather I am seeking an opportunity to simultaneously discover abundance. Abundance means, to me, appreciating the brilliance and wonder of our surroundings. Smells, sights, textures, tastes.  Kindness, innocence, forgiveness, authenticity. Diversity, opportunity, freedom, surprise. I think the quest to seek abundance in our lives is a good one to have, particularly during difficult financial times. Instead of seeking a new car, TV or wardrobe to make us feel successful, sexy, or happy, we may come to realize that we are quite capable of experiencing life’s riches without spending a dime.

My trip to Newfoundland was a perfect exploration of all these things. Newfoundland is a place where people epitomize genuineness and random acts of kindness are performed on a daily, if not hourly basis.  A sense of community can be found anywhere, and is extended to outsiders throughout a willingness to share and be open. Most people treated us as though we’d long been best friends.

The land is vast, wild and free.  It’s so wild and raw in some parts it borders on awe-inspiring, almost frightening, untamed wildness.  And yet it produces such a strange juxtoposition of gentle beauty, its wild flowers growing with determination out of a rocky, unforgiving land.  The weather is full of surprises; an early morning of rain and bone-chilling winds quickly turn into a warm and hospitable summer day.  Moose, bald eagles, jelly fish and friendly whales crop up without warning, revealing too the unpredictability of nature, frequently repaying those who pay it respect with the currency of patience.  

The rugged land has charged its inhabitants with years of incomprehensible sacrifice, pain and hard work - drudgery - in return for survival. The pain that its early inhabitants endured only serves to remind me that suffering has always been a part of the universal human condition; that countless people before me have invested much, much more into stakes that never came to fruition, that disappointment and loneliness have accompanied every soul that has ever lived.

And so, a few pictures to share (some of my favourites)

Wild Iris, covered in dew drops on the coast of Cape Spear

Black Horse beer, consumed in St. John’s.

Old fishing shed on the water at Trinity.

Lilacs and a white picket fence at a home in Trinity. (Can’t you just smell them?)

Baby beluga whale near Princeton. I took this picture from the side of the boat as he frolicked and played with us.

Wild flowers on Walker’s Trail in Tickle Cove.

Dock in Trinity

Basement window of a home in Trinity

Puffins, seemingly having a bit of a chat, at the Witless Bay Ecological Reserve

Lobster traps in Trinity

Buttercups against the peeling paint of a house in Trinity

I have many more favourites that will be making their appearance on flickr soon.

Enjoy whatever abundance is in your life today!