We often find what we're looking for.

Sue's Pink Poppies

My friend Sue is a Master Gardener, and the large patches of earth circling her home near Banks, Oregon, reflect that. Every time I visit her we take a leisurely turn around the garden.  She points out new starts and interesting things she’s learned; pruning a little here, pulling a weed there.  I ask about this or that and just generally gawk at the beauty she’s created.

This Sunday I saw for the very first time a pink poppy.  I didn’t even know they existed. I am not a Master Gardener, as you may have guessed.  I am, however, a bit of a photographer; so I immediately had to take a photo of this anomaly. I delighted for several minutes in this new find.  Not only did I learn something new (which I love to do) while reveling in the splendor of Sue’s garden; but I also opened another window of possibility in my mind.

If such a lovely thing as pink poppies exists without my knowledge, imagine what other wonders are commonplace for someone else that I am completely unaware of.  What other bits of deliciousness are just laying about waiting to be stumbled upon? The possibilities are endless, really. And that is one of the great and marvelous things about this world. At every moment we have the possibility of discovering new sources of beauty and joy, unfolding worlds before us like a napkin on a lap.

There are three things my father told me with such emphasis and frequency that I hear them repeated in my head over and over: 1) A good photographer uses a tripod (still haven’t nailed that one), 2) Write it down (in progress), and 3) Enjoy the journey.

I do believe I’m beginning to figure that last one out.

Protecting the nest and her chicks. Photo: SOLENT

If you’ve ever read Viktor Frankl’s book, Man’s Search for Meaning, you know that what kept him going through years of concentration camp imprisonment was a sense of purpose.

Feeling as though there is some reason for our being allows us to overcome challenges that might otherwise seem insurmountable.  It also, when acted upon, brings us an incredible sense of joy.

Kathi Lewis of Hollis, New Hampshire, believes every newborn deserves a warm welcome. That’s why she collects and distributes used baby clothing, gently worn garments she provides to area social workers who pass them on to their clients, new moms with limited resources.

“It’s how I worship,” she said. “This is why I was put on Earth, and this is how I give back.”   Read more about Kathi’s sense of purpose.

People aren’t the only beings who thrive when they feel there’s some greater meaning to their lives.  Many animals have done amazing things out of a sense of purpose.

The photo in this post was captured by amateur wildlife photographer Dennis Bright at a house in Fareham, Hampshire. The female thrush’s body is semi-submerged in the water of a gutter as she holds back the flow, protecting the nest and her chicks. Her mate took over feeding the mother bird and their chicks in the interim.  Read more of this story.

One of my favorite things about joy is that it spreads. From woman on a mission to social worker to mother to child. From mother bird to father bird to baby chicks. From me to you and you to me.  And around and around it goes.

Wahoo!

I got a few emails after this last ezine with links to some great websites focused on joy, happiness and good news.  Thank you for spreading joy!

Joyce Arbeene sent in a link to a wonderful story about a couple celebrating their 81st wedding anniversary. Frank Milford, 101, and his wife, Anita, 100, were married on May 26, 1928. They are currently the longest-married couple in the United Kingdom.  The story was written up in the Daily Mail and posted on a wonderful website, Good News Now.  Do yourself a favor and bookmark Good News Now so you can check it every few days for a boost of real news that’s positive and affirming.  Thanks for sharing, Joyce!

For anyone living in the Portland, Oregon area, Delaram sent in a link to a fabulous summer camp for kids: Spiritual Virtues Summer Camp.  The Bahá’í Community of Beaverton and New Thought Center for Spiritual Living (NTCSL) are joyful co-sponsors of a Spiritual Virtues Summer Camp for children ages 4 – 12.  Take a look at what they’re doing.  Thanks, Delaram!

And Carol McKeag(aka my mom) has been forwarding me some ezines from Unleash Gratitude.  I believe we often find what we’re looking for, and if you look for things to be grateful for, you’ll find life is full of joy and wonder.  Thanks, mom!

Joy lives!  Go find it.

Photo from 9 News, Denver, CO

I’ve heard of Christmas in July many times, but this is the first I’ve heard of Christmas year-round.

Channel 9 News in Denver, Colorado ran a wonderful story about a family that brings joy to their mother all year long by arranging and rearranging Christmas lights on the balcony of her retirement home. This tradition began after Angie Loomis lost her husband of 58 years.

“That is really what we are about, we are just trying to take a dark evening and make it light. The nights can be lonely for her,” her son-in-law, Dan Augenstein, said.

This thoughtful and personal gesture brings joy not only to Mrs. Loomis, but also to many in the community who have come to appreciate and anticipate the changing display of love.

Joy lives!

At 3:00 in the afternoon today I had plenty to do.  It’s Memorial Day, the last day of a 3-day weekend and I still had laundry to do, kids to bathe, lizard food to buy, dinner to eat, dogs to feed, birthday invitations to create…

But today was a stellar day: 70-something degrees and sunny with a slight breeze. The kind of day that makes you want to do everything outside.  So when my friend Olga offered me a cocktail on her fabulous front porch, I quickly dismissed all the chores that had yet to be done.

We sat in the wooden rockers, looking out at the neighborhood, sipping our lemon drops and chit-chatting about this and that.  An hour went lazily by and I licked every last drop of sugar off the rim of my glass, enjoying the company of a friend on a soon-to-be summer’s day.

This particular piece of art, drawn by my daughter, makes me smile. A bold, colorful flower, a really big heart, and her name in whimsical letters.

Joy, indeed.

Today is Mother’s Day. In addition to having three, maybe four moms when you include a step-mom, a mother-in-law and an almost-mom along with my own mother; I too, am a mom.

Not to be taken lightly, motherhood is serious business. It taxes your body, your mind and your wallet; and it throws in several gray hairs to really sweeten the deal. Having said that, being a mom is the most joyous experience I have ever had.

I know that sounds way too much like a sappy Hallmark card, but it’s the absolute truth. The joys my children bring me are unable to be counted. Every single time I am the lucky recipient of a hug or a kiss I melt like chocolate in the palm of their hands. Even a flash of a smile lifts my spirits at least by a quotient of three. These are only the most obvious joys.

Off the top of my head, others include: watching them sleep, seeing their barely awake faces come down the stairs in the morning, listening to them read, hearing them laugh, watching them grow, seeing how much they love each other, watching them learn, seeing their excitement as they discover a robin’s nest complete with little blue eggs, hearing them say, “mom”, watching them reason, seeing their little chests breathe in and out, being the tooth fairy, seeing them be kind to others, and the list goes on and on.

Being a mom has made me older and younger simultaneously. It has expanded my capacity for love, and fear, exponentially. It has made me an infinitely better person in the areas of patience, non-judgment, tolerance and compromise. And it has given me a greater sense of purpose than any job or desire I have to help improve the world around me.

Today is Mother’s Day. Just one of the many days I am proud and overjoyed to call myself a mom.

I came back to work after what seemed like a short weekend (kid’s birthday party and all) to hear a wonderful story from my co-worker, Deborah Shimkus.

Deborah is one of those real-life tree-hugging dirt-lovers. In addition to putting bumper stickers on her car, she expresses this by volunteering to further the green cause. Hence, her involvement in Lake Oswego’s Sustainability Action Month.

At the kickoff for the month’s festivities, an event was publicized promising, among other things, a giant earth cake. Just a few days before the event when the media hit, they realized that one of the things that got changed along the way was the giant earth cake. Deborah thought this just wouldn’t do. She pulled together $60 from the volunteers and went on a quest.

In just two stops, she found Judy in the bakery at the Lake Grove Albertsons. Deborah told her story, explained the urgent need and held out a wad of cash that should only be able to buy a couple of sheet cakes. Rather than getting laughed out the door, a team was assembled—store manager and all—and plans were drawn. The community-minded crew even went out and measured her car to see just how big the Giant Earth Cake could be.

Within two days and a mere trifle later, Deborah picked up a few hundred cupcakes pushed together and covered quite artistically with frosting to make a 4 foot Giant Earth Cake (and moon!) with continents, mountain ranges and even clouds hovering over the deep blue sea.

The cake was delivered to an amazed audience, which includes the Lake Grove Elementary School singers (pictured here), who wrote and performed their song “Earth Deserves Better” at the kickoff to the City of Lake Oswego’s Sustainability Action Month.

If this kind of community spirit isn’t what’s at the heart of sustainability, then I guess I don’t know what the word means.

Judy and the Lake Grove Albertsons crew – you’re alright in my book.

(photo by Deborah Shimkus)

My son recently turned eight. We had his birthday party yesterday at our house. There was a badminton set, horse shoes, t-ball, air hockey and a heck of a lot of hot dogs. Most importantly, there were friends.

To be completely honest, I can only remember what games they played based on the remains strewn across the backyard. What I remember most was how much fun they had just being together.

They played, they giggled. They wrestled, they ate, they ran. They laughed. They climbed, jumped and rolled. They beat their chests like the tribe of brothers they are. They were sweaty and dirty and just about the happiest they could possibly be, simply because they were together.

At the age of eight, these kids have a few things figured out.