We often find what we're looking for.

I was talking to my mom today about the rules we make up for our lives. Rules like: people who sacrifice and suffer for others get more points, no pain no gain, it’s more spiritual to live frugally than to live in opulence, I’m only worth as much as my job title, and, most alarming, you cannot eat chocolate every day.

What if, as Mike Dooley (author of Notes from the Universe) says, “the universe doesn’t give a flying yahoo” about our rules? What if the most important thing we had to do was to be happy?

It’s proven that happy people are more understanding, friendlier and much less likely to flip you the bird if you accidentally cut them off in traffic.

Maybe we should all just relax a little. And, as Denise Sharp said, “Give your soul some elbow room.”

I work for March of Dimes in Portland, Oregon. The non-profit health organization that works to improve the health of babies by preventing birth defects, premature birth and infant mortality. Yesterday was our biggest fundraiser of the year, March for Babies.

After walking the route with 5,000 others whose lives have somehow been touched by our mission, many people will stay, have a hot dog and an ice cream bar, and enjoy the upbeat music by 5 Guys Named Moe.

It was during this time that I saw special t-shirts celebrating premature babies born as small as one pound who overcame the challenges of being born too soon and were out there in strollers or walking beside their proud parents. I also saw shirts created with great love in memory of a baby who didn’t make it, worn by people who still celebrate those little lost souls.

As the music lightened the steps and hearts of the crowd, there was dancing. I became mesmerized by one particular pair — a father and his young daughter. Held in his arms, this beautiful little girl was twirled and waltzed and gazed at with a love and tenderness one doesn’t see just everyday. I fell in love. I fell in love with this little smiling girl, comfortable and happy in her daddy’s arms. And I fell in love with her doting father, so obviously blissful to be dancing with his daughter in a parking lot on a Saturday morning as though there were no place he’d rather be. I fell in love with the whole of it, and I wasn’t the only one.

After the last note he dipped his small partner and clapping came from the people around him. Turns out Rob Moneyhan (daddy) and his lovely wife were there because they have a second child, Chase, who is still in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) and has been for months since he was born way too soon.

The Moneyhans know how precious every single moment is. Which makes enjoying a dance in a parking lot all the more splendid.

I walked through warm, spring sunshine from my office at March of Dimes into Whole Foods in downtown Portland, already somewhat euphoric from soaking up the beams of light. And though I’ve been to this Whole Foods several times before, for some reason today it struck me differently. I entered the store and, met by these fresh cut flowers, I stopped in my tracks and dropped my jaw at the beauty of it.
Maybe it was the gerber daisies that grabbed hold of me so strongly. I love the bold brightness of gerber daisies. But it doesn’t really matter what it was. I slowed my pace, took a nice long look at the rainbow in petals before me and even closed my eyes to fully enjoy the sweet smell of stargazer lillies. The whole experience was heavenly.

Although spying joy is still easy to do if you look for it, these days it seems more challenging to really relax into the moment and let the joy we see soak down into our bones. At least, it seems a bit tougher to me.

Take today, for example. After sleeping in until 7am and savoring a morning mocha I check my email for the first time in a few days and find a heartfelt note from a friend saying she is closing the doors of her yoga center. As if that, among the daily barrage of bad news and double-digit unemployment, wasn’t enough; I opened mail and found the neighborhood hardware store is also closing its doors. Driving through town I see so many more signs shouting “for lease” or “going out of business sale”. It’s moments like these that challenge me to remember the truth.

The truth is that I am not my job. Neither are you. I am the love and kindness I show to everyone I encounter. I am the joy I feel watching my kids play soccer or swing from bars or read a book they find interesting. I am the time I make to be with my family and friends. I am the care and attention I show when I’m helping others. I am thankful for this day and the happiness inherent in it.

And I am thankful for the joy I spied at Red Park, and how it reminds me of all the important truths.

I spent a day with my family in the Tillamook State Forest. While the boys were enjoying a BBQ, Taryn and I set out for a walk on a fire road, trailing behind mountain bike rider and friend, Sue.

We picked up walking sticks; stopped and stared at elk droppings while bent at the waist (only we used the technical term “poop”); and picked up such treasures as a piece of dried out bone and a half-dead snail (because the shell was so pretty). We were adventurers!

As we’re trying to figure the best way to carry all our riches, an old memory flashed in my mind that I hadn’t thought of in years. When I was Taryn’s age, my dad would take me out exploring the deserts of New Mexico. I, just like my daughter, would find all manner of trinkets that had to be, without question, collected and taken home. But my dad, I suddenly remembered while holding a half-dead snail, would bring plastic ziplock bags to neatly hold whatever messy objects I deemed desirable.

Life really is a circle. A series of circles, actually. Next time Taryn and I go wandering the wilds of Oregon or Washington, I’ll bring some baggies. And maybe, in 30 or 40 years when she’s out exploring with her daughter, picking up messy and divine treasures, she’ll suddenly get a flash or our journeys together and begin to share a story about when she was a little girl. Her mother, she’ll say, would bring plastic ziplock baggies to hold such riches. And she’ll smile and think how wonderful are the circles of life.

In a time when fear and depression seem to be in a more plentiful supply than they have in years, a survey of visitors to ISpyJoy.com reveals the recession-proof sources of joy. Topping the list for what brings people joy are family, friends and pets. The best ways to spread joy to others? Offering a smile, being kind and listening.

These results remind us—and now is a good time to be reminded—that the greatest sources of joy come from being in the moment with our loved ones. And it’s also timely to note that, while ideally we should enjoy what we do for a living, our core happiness is much less dependant on our jobs than it is on things like being in nature, a walk through your city or reading a good book.

See the complete results of the survey here.

I don’t know a single child that hasn’t heard of Green Eggs and Ham or sock-wearing foxes. Dr. Seuss, whose birthday was March 2nd, has touched the lives of hundreds of millions of children and adults alike.

As we gathered at Hough Elementary for Read Across America to celebrate what very well may be the best-read children’s author of all time, the joy of words (non-sensical or not) was evident. Families came together to create books and share time and space and laughter. Those of us with a leaning toward whimsy and magic could just almost swear that wildly imaginative spirit popped up here and there among paper and crayons.

Happy birthday, Theodor Seuss Geisel. We sure are glad you came.

The benefits of music are many. Music can elevate your mood, enhance your immune system, stimulate your brain and even change the beating of your heart in proportion to the tempo. And that’s just listening to it. Making music, being the vessel it flows through, is nothing short of rapturous.
This is my seven-year-old son on music.

Joy lives!

Macaroni and cheese, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, warm chocolate chip cookies with a tall glass of milk, chicken noodle soup and teddy bears — these are some of the great comforters of our young lives. Many of which endure well into adulthood. (I’m 40 and most of these bring me that wrapped-in-a-blanket feeling to this day.)

This may be why Hough Elementary, where both my kids attend school, hosts a Teddy Bear Picnic once a year। Children are able to bring their bears (or any other stuffed animal, for that matter) to school, sit the cuddly critters next to them during class and bring them to the cafeteria for a lunch of deli sandwiches and teddy bear graham crackers. The kids love it. “It’s one of their favorite days of the year,” attests Candy Wallis, Hough Para-Professional, cross-walk attendant and joy-spreader extraordinaire.

Standing in the classrooms and seeing so many children proudly introducing their little bundles of comfort to their classmates brings a smile to even the most weary of parents, hustling through the morning hoping to get to work on time; not to mention what it does for the children.

But Hough is a school where 62% of the children are eligible for free or reduced lunches, and there are plenty of bearless arms. Enter Dave Lafayette (pictured here); parent, school volunteer and Senior VP of Language Fusion. Just after the tardy bell rings and children are settling into their seats, Dave is delivering a bag full of bears for those children who have come to school empty handed.

On the surface, having a teddy bear next to you during class and at lunch may not seem all that important. And certainly, there are kids who choose not to bring a furry friend to school even though they have many sitting on their beds and shelves at home. To some kids, however, this extra bit of comfort and cuddling goes a long, long way. The bears that are handed out to children without get to go home with them. Who knows how many hours and days and nights of comfort and joy they will provide? Even if it were only one, it would be enough.