Photo by Clay Banks on Unsplash |
I’ve been having trouble getting back into the habit of writing for Catching Happiness—maybe you’ve noticed? My life has been…full…lately, and I’m playing catch-up in more than one area. So to ease back into post writing, here are four things I’ve been pondering lately:
Being around people who have lost loved ones has reminded me that so many of the little things I fret and obsess over (which dog food to switch Luna to now that she’s a year old, for example) are just that: little things. They barely matter now, and won’t matter at all in 10 years. That’s becoming my new rule of thumb: will this matter in 10 years? I’m just worn out with all of the obsessing.
I just read Dan Charnas’ book Work Clean: The Life-changing Power of Mise en Place to Organize Your Life, Work, and Mind, and took away some helpful ideas. Charnas takes principles he’s learned from interviewing dozens of culinary professionals and executives and tweaks them to apply to work and life outside the kitchen. One thing I’ve discovered while doing one of the exercises from the book is that many of my projects take longer than I think they do. I also forget to factor in the time it takes to transition between activities, make and eat breakfast and lunch, take care of our pets, and shower and change clothes after a workout! All those little things add up to a big chunk of day that I’ve not accounted for, and so I wind up scheduling too many things in a day, leaving me feeling unproductive and defeated.
After my dad died, one of my close friends lost her mother, and a friend from my old boarding barn became dizzy and fell while getting out of a car, and passed away from her injuries. Even though my life is unutterably blessed, I feel sad—sad for my friends, sad that I won’t have these people in my life, sad that we have to say good-bye permanently before we’re ready to do so.
Friday as I was pouring my cup of Barnie’s Creamy Buttery Caramel coffee (no affiliation) and getting ready to sit down and write this post, I felt a little lift of my spirits that I haven’t felt in probably at least a month. Do I dare to feel happy? Yes, I think so. Sad doesn’t last forever, 24/7, just the way happy doesn’t. And that’s OK, too.
Photo by Ethan Robertson on Unsplash |
What have you been reading lately?
See what I mean about the books taking over? This is just one shelf. |
One of my jobs is to stand guard over our property. This is what I see from my post. Sometimes THINGS rustle around in there and I have to sound the alarm by running around and bucking. |
This is where I do my work with my human. I like it best when we try something new. Or when we stand while she talks to the other riders. I could do that all day. |
We’ve been jumping over this black thing lately. I could do more challenging jumps, but she’s still learning and I have to take care of her. |
This is my best friend. We play together over the fence line, and sometimes he takes off my fly mask for me.
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This thing sometimes dispenses treats when I spin it (you can see my teeth marks). It appeared in my paddock one year at what my human calls “Christmas time.” |
Be it ever so humble, this is my very favorite thing. I’m a man of simple tastes. |
I am handsome, am I not? |
I know I’m late to the party, but I recently
joined Instagram (follow me here—and if you’re on Instagram, let me know so I
can follow you!). I finally have a smartphone that takes
decent pictures, and I’ve always thought Instagram sounded like a fun way to
record simple pleasures and everyday adventures. I’m still figuring out how to
use the features, making mistakes and bumbling around. I was lying in bed
contemplating what I might post, when it crossed my mind that it would be amusing
to see what my pets would share if they had their own Instagram accounts. I
decided to take some pictures from their points of view and share them here.
First up, if Prudy had an Instagram account, this is what
she would post (FYI, the following pictures were taken with my phone, but not
actually posted to Instagram.):
First things first—a selfie. |
My favorite: the ’nip. |
I like to knock this in the pool every day—it doesn’t seem to know how to swim. |
My nemesis. |
Where I hone my razor-sharp, tree-climbing claws. |
I hope your Friday was much better than mine!
RIP little mouse. |
I have an owie. |
Taste testing. It's a tough job, but someone's got to do it. |
Note: I'm taking a more relaxed approach to blogging this summer, so occasionally I'm going to rerun a previous post. I hope you enjoy this one, from 2010.
I was standing in the shower, puddle of body wash in one hand, nylon pouf in the other when I remembered that I hadn’t yet put the John Frieda glaze in my hair. This glaze requires three minutes of time on the hair to do its job, according to the packaging, and therefore during my shower, it must go on before the body wash step for it to have that time. My mind had been elsewhere, apparently, because OMG! I’ve already reached body wash stage and I HAVEN’T YET PUT THE GLAZE IN MY HAIR!
Armageddon. (This is what it’s like to be me.)
(Let me back up and explain the importance of the JF glaze in my life. My hair is thick and coarse, and the minute it detects any humidity in the air, it doubles in size like a frightened cat. Let me remind you I live in Florida, and it’s a rare day when the humidity isn’t detectible. Using this glaze helps keep my hair under at least partial control.)
So I stood there in the shower, debating—put down the pouf, put the glaze in my hair and hope I leave it on long enough, even though I’ve clearly missed the ideal moment? (I’ve never actually timed the process, so maybe I NEVER leave it in long enough, who knows?) Do I skip the glaze altogether? (Nope, today I’m running errands and going out to dinner so the hair needs all the anti-frizz help it can get).
Routines can be helpful, essential, even. Routines and habits offer comfort and stability. Having a routine to deal with daily tasks can often speed them up and make you more efficient. I can shower, dry my hair, put on makeup, dress and be out the door in half an hour (on a good, non-glaze-dilemma day) and routine is what enables me to do that. Laundry and cleaning have their routines. Without them, I’d be buried in filth.
Many small and sometimes unnoticed routines add pleasure to the day. They become rituals that add to the beauty of life. I spend the first half-hour of my day with coffee, a few bites of scone or muffin, and a notebook and pen. I love this ritual and find it centers me before I begin to work.
Routines can become ruts, however. Ruts can make you feel bored, trapped, or locked into a certain path and unable to alter the course of life. (Or they can leave you feeling plain silly while you stand in the shower with body wash dripping down your arm.)
It pays to examine routines now and then to see if they still serve you, or to see if you’ve become slave instead of master. My shower/glaze moment reminded me that I’m in charge of my routines, not the other way around. It’s also possible you’ve stuck with a routine that has become outdated—your life has changed, but your routine hasn’t, and maybe it should.
Also, occasionally stepping outside routine makes life more interesting and exciting, keeping routines from becoming ruts. You might change anything from the route you take to work to the day you do your grocery shopping. Order a different sandwich at your favorite lunch spot…or choose another lunch spot altogether. Listen to a different type of music, read a magazine you wouldn’t normally pick up, or stop into that little antiques store you keep promising yourself you’ll visit. Maintain the routines that keep your life humming along, but also do something “different” every week—or even every day!
Now I’m off to take a shower…and I won’t forget the glaze.
What are some of your favorite routines? What rut(s) would you like to escape from? What small change can you make to liven up your life?
My brain is shooting off every which way today—so you’re going to get that kind of blog post: a hodge podge of thoughts and information. Often times I clear my head by talking or writing things out, so here goes. (Thanks for putting up with me.)
- Hanging off the chain link fence.
- In a shovel-full of compost from our compost pile.
- Among the leaves in the back yard.
- Inside the bird feeder when he took it apart to clean it.
One of Ron's beloved roses. |
- The longer the flight, the less room you’ll have between you and the seat in front of you. My knees actually touched the seatback.
- There is always a baby. Be kind to the parents and grateful you are not in their shoes.
- People are fascinating. What they wear, what they say, how they behave.
- When your airplane makes a sound like someone trying to saw through the floorboards, don’t panic. That’s what Xanax is for.
- Even if you don’t know the deceased, you will cry at a military funeral. If you knew and loved the person, prepare to dissolve completely into a puddle.
- Life is short. Do the things that matter.
That's my boy. |