Skip to main content

Happiness is. . .


















HAPPINESS IS. . .
. . . feeling the smoothness of my baby's cheek next to mine and inhaling his sweet baby smell. If I close my eyes, I can almost believe he's still a newborn.

. . . soaking up the warmth of the sun's rays into my Winter-weary skin. If I sit long enough in this pool of light that pours in through the windows, I feel like I'm floating - I'm ascending, getting nearer and nearer to the sun until I start glowing. I become light.

. . . suggesting math practice without evoking the tsunami of rage and injustice. "Wait, did you just say, 'Okay'? You mean I can come out from the bomb shelter now and I won't find any debris to clear up?"

. . . taking a deep, steadying breath when my little one needs to tell me "one last thing" (for the 3rd time) before they go to sleep. Then the reward for my calm response: a heart-felt, wide-eyed expression of love and gratitude -- "Mama, I love your singing."
     I'd sing you a hundred lullabies only to hear those precious words, my darling boy.

. . . submitting my answers for an online homework quiz and seeing a perfect score blink back at me. Am I the only one who stands up and does a victory dance (with sound effects) when this happens?

. . . kneeling down to pray at the end of my day and realizing, "I wouldn't change a single thing about this day. I just wanted to say, 'Thank you'."




Now it's your turn.
Happiness is. . . ?

Labels:

Comments

  1. UnknownApril 16, 2014 at 1:10 AM

    The little things are the BIG things! Well expressed...after a hard day it's nice to be reminded of the little things that makes feel complete and happy. Yes, I am happy too :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Bethany C.April 16, 2014 at 9:09 AM

    So great to hear from you, Viviana! Thanks for your comments.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

The joys of life taste sweeter when they're shared. Please share your joy by leaving me a comment. I love to hear your stories-- the joys as well as the sorrows.
Thanks for reading mine!

--- Bethany

Popular Posts

Thrifty Thursday: DIY Referee Costume

     My kids, like most, love to play dress up (though my teen might prefer the term, "cosplay"), and they do it on a regular basis. So they're usually planning Halloween costumes well in advance of October. And by that I mean that while they are enjoying their candy on Nov. 1st, they start discussing what they want to be for next year!      Last September, when our 9-year-old son said he wanted to go as a referee, we decided to order an inexpensive costume through Amazon. Halloween was drawing nearer. Princess costumes arrived for two of our girls, but somehow, the referee package went missing. Only a week left before Halloween. Time to get thrifty.      I'm no seamstress. Lucky for us, our neighbors who were moving out had just gifted us a collection of long-sleeved shirts in assorted colors. There was a white one in his size. I purchased a couple rolls of black Duck Tape and got to work.       I didn...
Post a Comment
Read more

Sacred Space

Reflections on Wisdom Sits in Places by Keith H. Basso In Western Apache culture, places bear the names given to them by the ancestors. These names are often straight forward in their descriptions, but always imbued with deep meaning. The elders of Apache society instruct their youth to drink deeply from the wisdom of these places. Wisdom is like water. As one apache said, "You can't live long without water and you can't live a long time without wisdom. You need to drink both." Certain places then, are like oases of knowledge from which each generation may quench their thirst. Often, the sacredness of these place-worlds is not recognized until after repeated experience with them. It takes great faith to act with reverence even when one's surrounding seem not to merit such actions. We must beleive that simple tasks, when repeated in an intentional, ceremonial fashion, can hallow even the the most derelect environments. This is the process we r...
Post a Comment
Read more

High Hopes

Emily Dickinson called hope " the thing with feathers ". This time of year, nearly every time I'm out for a walk, I can find empty eggshells. The bright turquoise of the robin's shells stand out against the dampened soil. I always feel a surge of excitement when I spot one. I like to collect them for our Nature Nook at home.  But lately, my delight has quickly turned to sorrow as I've discovered several eggs, cracked, but with baby birds still inside. Yesterday, I even found a dead baby bird on our driveway. It makes me heartsick, seeing these lifeless, tiny shapes. As the chatter and songs of a dozen other birds fill the air, my heart swells with a bittersweet ache. I relish the music that surrounds me, but I mourn for those voices that are lost.  Spring is a season of new beginnings. Witnessing death at this time seems like a cruel irony. Like a bird struck down in mid flight, it can cause you to question that budding optimism you felt only moments...
Post a Comment
Read more