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Making Good Things Happen

Writing it down, putting it out there always helps. It’s like some sort of psychic kick in the arse. Thanks for reading, making nice comments and all the cyberhugs.

I remembered something this Saturday. Something that I’d forgotten. I remembered that happiness is hard work, that it takes daily effort and practice to be positive. I realized that for some time now, I have skimmed across the surface of being positive and for a while, I was pretty successful. Then my neck got hurt and then it got hurt again and yet again and at some point, I stopped actively healing and started sitting still and whimpering. Much like Seligman’s dogs, I had learned that I had no control and couldn’t stop the pain.

Except, I do and to some extent, I can. I have to adapt to needing big drugs – instead of being angry and resisting having to use codeine again for the first time in two years, seeing it as a failure, I need to be grateful that it is there to help me heal. Instead of focusing on the anger, the sadness and the fear, I have to remember that the universe gives you more of what you pay attention to. That good things happen, but you have to go get them. To look at what I have, instead of what I don’t have (yes, that lesson again). Which is not to say that I grok these things right now, but I have remembered that becoming healthy and happy requires active participation. It means practicing relentless optimism, nurturing faith in myself and believing that anything is possible.

To start things off, I decided to spend the Thanksgiving long weekend practicing gratitude. These are some of the things for which I’ve been thankful in the past three days:

My parents teaching me that giving up is not an option.

Living in a neighbourhood where when walking down the street, passing from snippet of conversation to overhearing another sentence and a half, I pass from language to language, only understanding English, but loving the brief trip around the world.

These two little people (photo by a TinkParent)

Good painkillers.

Family and friends, old and new. Who sustain me in the dark times and make me laugh when I need it the most.

Spending time with Dawn, my friend who lives in Vancouver, who is in town to visit her new nephew (welcome to the world, Cole!). We have known each other for 23 years now and still run out of voice before we run out of things to talk about.

This wee beastie, who is with me 24 hours a day, takes me out of my head, makes me feel the good and has made me laugh at least once a day for almost 10 years.

Sitting in the park, drinking in a beautiful sunny day. The smell of sunshine on my skin, a mix of the heat of summer and the crispness of fall. All around me, yellow leaves are detaching from their perch and drifting on the wind, spiralling downwards like little suns.

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The technology that keeps me connected and enables me to do what I love.

The pain. For helping me learn what’s important.

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