Last Friday I blogged about how important gratitude is in the lives of children.  Research shows children who are raised to be grateful for the world around them are, among other things, happier, most socially connected, and better students. 

Gratitude isn’t just important for children, of course.  Adults who kept a gratitude journal for just three weeks reported a variety of improvements in their lives including lowered blood pressure, an increased sense of well-being, and a surge in compassion and forgiveness.  There’s more about this in a wonderful article, Why Gratitude is Good, from Robert A. Emmons, by way of the Greater Good Science Center, and the article page is chock full of additional resources for you to enjoy, as well. (more…)

Greater Good Science Center.  Really?  I didn’t remember “liking” any such institution on my Facebook page, but now these interlopers were sending me updates. Just as I was about to send them to “unlike” purgatory, the link itself caught my eye.

Gratitude vs. Materialism. 

Okay, now I realized who they were.  GGSC researches emotional and social well-being and even better, finds ways to apply their findings.  The organization might want to rethink its name, but the headline intrigued me.  So off I went to explore.  Quite honestly if I wrote as many hours as I “explore” I might turn out three books for every one I actually do. 

As it turns out, this post was part of a blog by a sociologist, Christine Carter, who studies happiness and explains how her findings can help us raise happy children. (more…)

I’m taking a week long break from original blogs as I dive deeper into my book and still try to catch some of the most beautiful hours of late summer.  While looking back at some of my older blogs to share with you again, I came across this one written in April 2009.  It struck a chord.  Yes, it’s about a sunny spring day and spring blossoms, but the message and the song bear repeating.  I hope you enjoy. 

Late breaking edition: My apologies for the bad timing here, when many of you East Coasters are battening down your hatches for Hurricane Irene.  I scheduled this a week ago.  The joys of nature may seem far in the distance now.  “Earth’s lamentation” seems most appropriate though, doesn’t it?

What’s the payoff for a cold, rainy spring?  A sunny warm day when the world bursts into bloom.  We’re having one of those today, and I wanted to share it with you.  Here are some photos quickly taken in my garden along with the words to one of my favorite hymns of praise, written in 1860 by American Baptist minister, Robert Wadsworth Lowrey and later revised by Pete Seeger.  I hope you enjoy.   

 

 Through all the tumult and the strife

I hear the music ringing 

It finds an echo in my soul

How can I keep from singing?

I’ll confess profanity rarely bothers me. Maybe my tolerance comes from my father, who was an army staff sergeant during World War II and didn’t always remember to temper his speech later after I made my appearance. Or maybe I’m less bothered because on the radical streets of Berkeley, California, where my husband did his graduate education, profanity was a form of proletariat poetry. In neither case were these expletives heavily laden with anger. Profanity was just another form of expression.

Now, when profanity annoys me, annoyance is usually on one of two levels. First, that my favorite entertainers are substituting that hackles-raising “F” word for pauses or phrases they can’t seem to recall. That word-of-all-words has become an aging comedian’s, “you know,” or “uh huh,” or “am I right?” and as such I’m bored by the lack of vocabulary and creativity.  I cringe even more when profanity is a symptom of rage, and everyone in earshot is infected.

While I tolerate four letter words better than some of my readers, who are vocal about their dislike, I much prefer five letter words. Some of life’s very best can be summed up in five letters. Shade, books, music, happy, smile, lucky, faith, puppy, lover, quilt, buddy, kitty, youth, birth, and start as well as begin. (more…)

I’m glad I have a chance to write this post today.  After all, it’s pouring down rain outside, and I could be outside cleaning leaves from gutters, or repairing street lamps, or walking my silly beagle again.  Instead, Nemo is curled up in his basket at my feet, for which I am also glad, since Nemo thinks splashing in the rain is as much fun as chasing rabbits or baying at absolutely nothing in the middle of the night, just because he can.

And, of course, I’m also absolutely triple glad that yesterday, when I opened my computer, all the edits I had worked on until 11:00 the previous night had simply disappeared off my hard drive (where they’d probably never landed in the first place) and I had to spend the day reconstructing everything I had done instead of moving on to the five million other pressing projects I have in place. 

You might ask why?  Well, that’s a tough one.  But after wrinkling my pert little nose a time or two, I came up with something.  I learned a LOT about my brand new computer yesterday as I searched through the detritus of files I’d moved to it.  For instance, how would I have known that I had six files detailing the correct way to do a tracheotomy, had I not lost eight hours of work to the Computer Gods?  Now, just in case I ever need to do emergency surgery on a friend or neighbor, I can run home, start my computer, and know just where to look.

I also discovered there are “hidden” files on my computer.  We might ask ourselves why Microsoft feels it needs to hide anything on OUR computers, but I’m glad I don’t have to.  I’m afraid it would be a lot like asking BP why they have hidden the fact there’s an oil plume way down in the ocean that is not, as they want us to believe, unrelated to the massive amounts of BP oil spilling into our beloved Gulf of Mexico from an ill-equipped and monitored oil platform.  There again, I am glad I don’t have to hear that response.  Glad, glad, glad.

As a child, Pollyanna was one of my favorite movies.  I loved everything about it.  The setting, the acting, the story.  I ached for the unloved little girl who played the “Glad” game to deal with a difficult life.  Pollyanna could find that proverbial silver lining in everything.  She was brave, insightful, cute as a button, and able to change the way an entire town thought about life.  Not bad for a freckle-faced orphan.

The Glad Game was very different from the real game I watched being played around me.   Most people I knew were much more adept at finding things NOT to be glad about.  The dark cloud was the meterological event to concentrate on.  I fell in line, as did most of us, concentrating far too often on the things that were wrong with a nearly perfect day, or wishing a book had made it to a higher slot on a bestseller list, and not noting that I should be GLAD a book of mine had made it to any list at all.

There’s a popular movement that insists each of us should visualize what “can be,” and concentrate to make it happen.  We are supposed to do this consistently, with energy and  a significant commitment of time, and if we work at it hard enough, we will achieve our goals.  I’m all for having goals.  I’m all for working on them.  But maybe what most of us need even more is to be glad about the things we already have, to count our blessings, because isn’t there the possibility that if we don’t, when we reach that long sought goal, we won’t even notice?  We’ll just screw up our faces, tense our muscles, and start concentrating on the next one.

Finding and appreciating the ways we are fortunate.  Sound familiar?  Clearly it’s on my mind.  After all Fortunate Harbor’s coming out soon,  and what’s it about if not this?

As for me?  I’m glad I was able to reconstruct those missing edits in only one day.  I really am glad I learned some things about my new computer and operating system as I tried to bring them back.  I’m glad I mentioned my dismay on Facebook and got such lovely support and suggestions.  I’m glad I discovered that the editor who had sent them to me in the first place was not only willing to help, but approachable, warmly sympathetic, and quick to respond. 

Am I glad my edits disappeared?  Not on your life.  But I am glad, truly glad, that these days I’m teaching myself to find small positives in the midst of larger disappointments.  And, of course, I’m glad this was, in the scheme of things, a very minor event.  Those major events?  Well, I’m glad to say I’ll have something to work on for the rest of my life.

You may notice some subtle changes in the look of this blog.  We have switched the platform to WordPress, and now it’s even easier to comment than it was in the past, so why not give it a try?.  Just click on the red “comment” and you’ll see a place to add your own (and to read others) directly below the post.  Also be sure to set any bookmarks or feeds to the new address here: www.emilierichards.com/blog.  

While you’re commenting, why not tell us about a time when you found something to be glad about in a difficult situation?  These are the stories that feed our souls.

There are two kinds of people in the world.  Actually there are almost seven billion kinds of people in the world, but for our purposes today, I’ll simplify.  There are two kinds of people.  The kind who fall neatly into slots other people choose for them, and the kind who make their own slots.  I won’t complicate this by pointing out that at one time or another, we’ve probably all done both.  Let’s just pretend life’s easy to understand and go from there.

As loyal blog followers know, I spent most of the past two weeks in New Zealand watching one of my earliest novels being made into a film for the German television station, ZDF.  We won’t take up the question of why an American author flew to New Zealand to watch a German production company make a film of a novel originally set in Georgia.  Suffice it to say that the transition works well, and that New Zealand has enough gorgeous and diverse locations to make a gazillion movies, as well as a flourishing film industry eager to help.  What I really want to talk about is how often I noted people doing what they loved. 

Take Terri and Jim, for instance.  Terri and Jim are originally from the UK–although Jim spent time in Jamaica along the way.  After a trip to New Zealand’s South Island, they went home and began to work toward the goal of moving back permanently to run a charter boat service.  It took more than a decade to make the dream happen, but now Jim and Terri ARE Kaiteriteri Boat Charters, offering spectacular cruises through the Abel Tasman National Park.  Their joy in what they do is catching.  Every detail is performed with enthusiasm and care, plus they serve the best picnic lunch I’ve ever had, which permanently endeared them to all on board.

Then there was James.  James is a runner, at least I think that’s what he’s called in filmspeak.  James does everything.  I noted him on the first day and the last, a young, energetic man who seemed to know exactly what to do and how to do it on time and with courtesy.  On the last day I overheard him in conversation with another member of the crew.  He talked about how his job was simply to do whatever needed to be done with no excuses.  Not ever.  Can you imagine a world in which everyone had that attitude?  I have a strong feeling we’ll be hearing from James again.  All of us.  Because I’m sure James has plans to move on in the world of film, and I’m sure he will. James isn’t afraid to try.

How many of us can say that?  I’m one of the lucky ones.  I “fell” into writing when the opportunity presented itself.  I adore what I do.  But I was never told to follow my dream.  I was told to be practical, to shoot for security, and not to step over boundaries because that wasn’t sensible.

I did step over boundaries, of course, and became a writer, even though I had a nagging feeling–and still do sometimes–that my typing skills might best be used for clerical work.  Still, had I not found a publishing niche so quickly, would I have continued working toward my goal?  I’d like to think I would have worked a decade for my dream, the way Jim and Terri did, but I’m not sure it’s true.

Do you have a dream you’re trying to fulfill? Go for it, and tell your children to do the same.  We’ll all be better off because you did.  After all, happiness and enthusiasm are catching.  I know it’s true.  I came home with both.    

Sometimes all you have to do is look around.  Last night I did, and see what I found? 2010 in shells laid down by an invisible hand.  Not only that, but the light was exactly right for a photo, and my husband had his camera.  With this kind of divine prodding, how could I NOT think about what 2010 will mean to me and you?

For most people, a new year means resolutions. This year, before the stroke of midnight on the 31st, I decided against resolutions once again.  I’ve learned if I tell myself I can’t do something, I want to do it even more.  Too many “I will not” statements in my head, and I know everything will go straight downhill.  So why set myself up?  I don’t want to fail.  I may even give up “failing” for Lent when it comes around this year–or maybe I’ll give up abstaining for Lent, since that’s a discipline that goes downhill pretty fast, as well. 

The biggest problem with resolutions is that they often have the word “not” in them.  I will not eat dessert after dinner.  I will not forget to exercise.  I will not let myself get swamped at work.  This year I’ve decided on a different approach. It’s not a resolution.  And it’s not a negative.  It’s a Happiness List.

Since I titled my summer book Happiness Key, I’ve loudly beat the drum about happiness here on Southern Exposure   After all, I was writing about the key to happiness (you got that, right?)  Of course, I was thinking about happiness, reading about happiness, talking to anyone who would listen about happiness.  

All that investigation had to result in something, and here’s what I’ve taken away.  My insight isn’t profound or anything you don’t already know.  It’s simple enough.  The universe doesn’t make us happy.  We do that ourselves.  If we wait for lightning to strike, it might, in a cataclysmic burst of white light, send us somewhere we’re not quite ready to go.

No, in order to be happy, we have to know what makes us happy and be willing to reach for it.  Unfortunately this isn’t something we’re taught.  In fact many of us have been taught that reaching for happiness is selfish, even dangerous.  If we’re happy, we aren’t thinking of others. We should put ourselves last. We should fall into bed every night with a long list of the day’s failures and all the “shoulds” we have to accomplish tomorrow.  (In Gestalt therapy, this is known as “shoulding” all over yourself.)

This year I’ve decided to fall into bed with thoughts about what made me happy that day, and what I’ll do tomorrow to be happy again.  I’m calling this my Happiness List.

Is this selfish?  Thoughtless?  Sacreligious?  Subversive?  Here’s the good news.  Being with people I love makes me happy.  Doing things for them?  Happy.  Doing whatever I can for the world in general?  Happy.  Breathing fresh air, appreciating the gifts I’ve been given, sitting quietly and just letting the world flow around and through me?  Happy.  Nothing dangerous or selfish there. Just a whole lot of happiness, which in our culture is sadly underrated.   

Over the next days, I’m going to make a 2010 Happiness List. I’m not going to resolve to do anything on it, or even to think about it too much.  I mean, if I’m not bright enough to follow through, will constantly checking a list change anything?  But I am going to put my ideas on paper, and I am going to give myself permission to be happy.  I have faith both will make a difference.

How about you?  What’s on your list?  Want to be happy with me in 2010?  

New Year’s resolutions.  I love them.  A clean slate, fresh start, brand new page to write a brand new history.  Every new year is a chance to reconsider life and make necessary changes.  There’s only one problem.  While we’re thinking about all the changes we need to make, and preparing for a new opportunity to fix what’s wrong, it’s easy to forget all the things we did right and all the things that WENT right in our lives this year.

My friend mystery author Casey Daniels introduced me to Manhattan’s Good Riddance Day in a recent post on The Little Blog of Murder.  On December 28th giant shredders are set up by the Times Square Alliance, and everybody who wants to can shred the negatives of the past year.  Letters from ex-lovers.  Rejection letters from editors (okay, I added that myself), disappointing report cards.  If the artifact can’t be shredded, then giant sledgehammers are available to pound it into submission.  How freeing to say goodbye to the negative to make way for the positive.

But what about all the good moments of 2009?  It’s so easy to concentrate on the things we didn’t accomplish.  What did we accomplish that made us happy?  What serendipities occurred that were simply gifts, deserved or undeserved, from the universe?  What good advice did we pass on?  When did we practice patience when annoyance would have been so much easier?  When did we NOT forget a loved one who needed us?  When did we NOT forget a stranger in trouble?

Here are a few of my own finer moments of 2009. 

Serendipities: 

Discovering that 20 of my older novels will be made into television movies in Germany.  This was truly a gift from the universe and completely unexpected.

After more than 10 years of open houses and regretful head shaking, finding the perfect (for us) cottage at Chautauqua Institution to enjoy in the coming years. Proof that even the craziest dreams can come true.

My husband’s six month sabbatical and a chance to spend some of it in Florida, where we both grew up, with family we rarely see.

Accomplishments:

A year of Southern Exposure and Facebook, and the discovery that both blogging and social networking are a wonderful way to make new friends and get new viewpoints.

Pushing deadlines back a bit to give myself room to breathe and enjoy life.

Introducing the world to the women of Happiness Key.

Reaching out:

A fact finding trip to Guatemala to visit social justice agencies trying to right the wrongs of decades.

Support for a number of causes including Child Fund International, Doctors Without Borders, Holdeen India Project.  

Now, what about you?  Are you concentrating on all the things you didn’t do this year, and all the things you want to change?  Why don’t you take a moment and list your 2009 accomplishments.  It’s not as easy to be happy with what you did, as it is to expound on the things you didn’t do.  Society trains us to be both modest  and negative.  So break the rules.  Take a chance and blow your own horn right here.  Trumpet those virtues.  Let us wallow in your good luck and enjoy it vicariously.

If you tell us something good about your own 2009 (click on comments at the top right to do so) I’ll enter your name in a drawing for an autographed copy of Happiness Key, whose four major characters accomplish a LOT over the time span of the novel.  Just tell us something good that happened to you or that you made happen in 2009 and do it by January 7th.  Or tell us a lot.

2009 is nearly over.  Let’s celebrate all the reasons we will hate to see it go. 

Historical facts are always in dispute.  Not having been at the Thanksgiving celebration at Plymouth Plantation so many years ago, I can’t tell you what was said, how politically correct were the attitudes, whether the Native Americans spoke excellent English, as some claim, or excellent Algonkian.  I’m not even sure what was consumed, although wild game’s a given.  Having seen turkeys in the wild, I know what an addition they would have been.

Accuracy is important, and I thank the historians who struggle for it.  But at this time of year, I concentrate on the spirit of the holiday.  There have been harvest festivals throughout time, and myriad occasions when we have gathered together to thank whatever God we worship for the blessings in our lives.  Gratitude doesn’t set us apart from our fellow creatures, but the ability to express it is powerful and life altering, and for the most part, all our own.

So let me offer my own words of gratitude.  Thanks for following my blog this year.  Southern Exposure began just slightly more than a year ago, and I loved writing it from the start, although that was unexpected.  I appreciate your thoughtful, sometimes hilarious comments, your frequently expressed appreciation for my novels, the way you have shared important personal moments of your own here, on Facebook or in email.  You’ve made this blog a joy, and joy is underrated.

May you have good food on your table this holiday, good friends around it, and good times with family, who share your good memories of other holidays. 

Happy Thanksgiving from my house to yours. 

I’m enjoying my Facebook experience.  Many of you have found my Emilie Richards page and signed on as “fans,” a word Facebook coined but one that always makes me feel like a wannabe rock star.  I prefer “readers.”  It’s easy to interact on the page, and I like finding out more about you and what you think.

Today I confessed to a recent “addiction” to Wheel of Fortune and asked my readers what TV shows they watch that no one would expect them to.  The answers were wonderful.  Who knew Lawrence Welk reruns were still on the air?  Reality shows were no surprise, the Food Network took a bow, and some wonderful older sit coms and dramas were mentioned.  I applauded when I found there’s another Murder She Wrote fan on my page.  Someday I’ll have to do an entire blog about what I’ve learned from Jessica Fletcher.

Familiar shows are a source of comfort for me.  I love challenging television, too, innovative and edgy shows that make me think.  But when I’m tired, watching something I can simply sink into is pure joy.  Comfort is key.

Books can be comfort reads, as well.  I rarely re-read a novel, but I have authors whose books I always read, just for the sheer comfort they give me.  They aren’t difficult books, and they aren’t demanding intellectually.  Nothing is expected except going along for the ride.  I know I will be entertained, that when I’m done I’ll feel satisfied, nourished, rejuvenated.  There are many, many worse ways to spend my time.

Then there’s food.  Homemade bread.  Chocolate.  Grilled cheese sandwiches.  Tomato or chicken noodle soup.  Pierogies.  The list goes on, food that comforts me and makes the rest of my day more enjoyable.  Sometimes my choices are actually good for me, sometimes they aren’t, but always the choice brings a warm sense of satisfaction that’s worth the occasional overdose of calories or fat grams.

I’ve never been sure why the things that comfort us most are things we’re a little embarrassed to admit.  Maybe it’s because we’re all working longer and harder these days to keep jobs and make ends meet.  We’re constantly told we need to do our best, to shine, to reach for the stars.

I think that sometimes, just sometimes, we really need to reach for the television remote.  We need to turn on those old sit coms that make us laugh, then hunker down on the sofa with popcorn and cocoa.  Or we need to pull out a novel that won’t demand anything except our attention and appreciation, then fall asleep with our finger marking a page.

Me, I plan to keep watching Wheel of Fortune every night.  I’ve yet to figure out why I’m enjoying it so much.  But that’s because I haven’t tried to.  I’m not going to analyze the things that bring me comfort and pleasure.  I think I’ll just take them as the gifts they are.

Enter a drawing to win a happiness keychain and an autographed copy of Emilie’s Happiness Key. Details here.