Sharing Happiness

After more than two years of grieving and healing, I have begun to feel moments of pure happiness. As soon as a moment comes, though, I say to myself, “I can’t be happy; Harlan isn’t here to share it.”

This morning a friend told me about the sheer bliss she is in from the realization of a dream. I am so happy for her that my whole body is vibrating. I thought to myself, “I wish Harlan were here to share this moment.” As I entertained this thought, I looked up to the shelves above my computer. Harlan’s photograph is there, and he is smiling broadly. Then I realized, “He IS here sharing this moment with me.”

I believe our souls are immortal. I believe those in the afterlife communicate with us in various ways—sometimes directly. This morning’s experience took that belief to a new level, and I’m so grateful. I am free to be happy, knowing that Harlan is sharing those moments with me.

Getting Out of Fear

An old fear recently seized me in the evening when I looked at my investment balance, which was lower than I expected. Longevity is a hallmark in my family, and this money is supposed to last for at least two more decades.

I took this fear to bed with me and did not sleep soundly.

But in the early morning, a friend sent an encouraging text. Then I looked at the numbers again and realized there is plenty. I promised myself not to look at numbers in the evening ever again.

You write it: What do you do to get out of fear?

Humbled and Hopeful

A couple of days ago, a friend told me about a book club that had chosen my book, Simple Serenity, to study. When these women realized she knew me, they asked my friend if I might participate in a Zoom call to talk about the book.

I was deeply moved. Of course I will do a Zoom call. Then I wondered how many other book groups are reading and sharing my work? Then I was deeply humbled and hopeful.

You write it: When have you felt deeply humbled and hopeful?

It Is Well with My Soul

Quite a few years ago I learned that we have four sources of energy: physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual. Keeping them in balance is important to our well being, as well as the well being of those close to us.

Right now extraordinary wildfires are burning in California. Thousands of people have lost homes and businesses. Seeing the devastation and hearing the despair of the people whose possessions have burned depletes our mental and emotional—even our physical—energy, from the tension of our empathy. Easily, we could despair and become depleted.

But our spiritual energy has the power to lift us above these losses and have faith that—eventually—all will be well. Until these fires are out, try repeating this mantra: “Fear not, for I am with you” (Isaiah 41:10).

You write it: What do you do to keep yourself out of despair?

Who Has Loved You?

“Who in your life . . . has helped you love the good that grows within you? Let’s take just 10 seconds to think of some of those people who have loved us and wanted what was best for us in life—those who have encouraged us to become who we are. . . .

“No matter where they are—either here or in heaven—imagine how pleased those people must be to know that you thought of them right now.” —Fred Rogers

When I first read this quotation, I began thinking of people who had loved and encouraged me, especially as a child and teenager. But then I read it again. The core question is “Who has helped YOU love the good that grows within you?” That’s a more challenging question. I encourage you to answer it.

May 2025 be filled with love for the good that grows within you.

Solitude

Slowly, one day at a time, I’m removing and storing Christmas decorations. This morning I packed away the angels and nativity scene. Only the tree is still up, and I’m not ready to take it down.

Solitude is my companion today. I was warned both by a dear friend and by a stranger on Next Door that flu, Covid, and viruses are rampant in this area right now. For once, I am heeding their good advice to stay in and be safe.

This time of year always feels like a lull to me, awaiting the New Year. But this year, it’s more—it’s choosing—even embracing—solitude.

You write it: How is this time of year for you?

My Gift

My coaching is listening deeply, all the way to the bottom. Then, it’s saying what I hear, to verify its authenticity. Finally, it’s offering a tool or a story with a different perspective, to lift my client into a new way of being.

Someone did it for me, and I pass it on.

Somehow during this season it feels right to focus on the gifts we have to give—to bring them into our conscious awareness.

Quiet Christmas

I’m having a quiet Christmas, enjoying the occasional company of friends in small numbers. As I look back over all the Christmases of my life, I realize the best ones have been quiet. Maybe it’s because I can be still and listen, savoring the presence of love.

You write it: What have been your best Christmases?

Thanksgiving

It’s here. Thanksgiving. The day we have set aside to be consciously grateful for what we have and, maybe, for what we don’t have.

I’ve had two very tough years, in many ways. My husband died. I became ill. Then I was injured. Yet, through all of it, helpers came. I experienced love and commitment and healing. I am reassured that, whatever happens, people will come to help, and my world will expand.

That’s what I’m grateful for this Thanksgiving. How about you?

Early Morning

From my early morning window, I see trees of yellow, orange, and red. As the sun rises, the colors become ever more vibrant. Beauty and peace: How I start my day.

You write it: How do you start your day?

Accepting Loss

My candidate lost the election. To cope, I’ve used several slogans of a 12-step program: ”Be where my feet are.” “Accept the things I cannot change.” “This, too, shall pass.”

Everything helped, for a few days. Then I caught myself looking suspiciously at other people, wondering, “Did they vote for him?” I didn’t like where my mind was heading.

This morning, in a meditation with a friend, an image came to me. I was in a very narrow spotlight. Very narrow. The clear message was, “Stay in the light.”

You write it: How are you coping with loss of what you wanted?

What Spills Out?

A friend posted this story from Thich Nhat Hanh, Vietnamese Buddhist monk: You are holding a cup of coffee when someone comes along and bumps into you or shakes your arm, making you spill your coffee everywhere. Why did you spill the coffee?

“Because someone bumped into me!!!”

Wrong answer. You spilled the coffee because there was coffee in your cup. Had there been tea in the cup, you would have spilled tea. Whatever is inside the cup is what will spill out.

Therefore, when life comes along and shakes you (which WILL happen), whatever is inside you will come out. It’s easy to fake it, until you get rattled.

So we have to ask ourselves, “What’s in my cup?” When life gets tough, what spills over?

Joy, gratitude, peace and humility?

Anger, bitterness, victim mentality and quitting tendencies?

Life provides the cup. YOU choose how to fill it.

Sending My Son

A friend from many years ago has reappeared recently. He was an elementary school principal in his career. Never do I remember any problem from his school. That’s the kind of leader he was—kind, compassionate, gently soft spoken. He still has those characteristics. Add to those a very long memory and empathy.

Recently he sent me videos of Dewitt Jones, National Geographic photographer whose words made a big difference in my life. In fact, I wrote about his impact in my first book, which my friend had read and quoted to me. I am deeply touched by this friend’s kind gift and the long memory it suggests—that he would remember Dewitt Jones’ impact on me and send a reminder of it.

I wanted to do something special in return for him and his wife. All I could think of was flowers. (Is that ever a bad choice?) But to make the delivery special, I asked my son, who lives in the area, to deliver them and express my heartfelt appreciation for his kindness. In other words, I sent my precious son to deliver the message.

Then I realized I was experiencing one of the great lessons of Christianity.

A Friend's Gift

Yesterday I spoke with an old friend—someone I heard from recently with a reminder of the work of Dewitt Jones, National Geographic photographer who taught me a great lesson many years ago. My conversation with my friend led me to google Dewitt Jones, and I found this UTUBE video of his Ted Talk: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gD_1Eh6rqf8

The title of the talk is “Celebrate What’s Right with the World.” Yes. Watch it.

Re-Experience of a Precious Time

As I write, it is the day of the Texas-OU football game—Red River Rivalry, they call it.

In my family, it was reunion. I would travel with my husband and children to Dallas, where on Friday evening we met up with my sister and her family, my dad and stepmom at the French restaurant in the Anatole Hotel. The next day we would all converge onto the Texas State Fairgrounds, where we would grab a hot dog and meet up again with my family at the horse barn. My dad’s two brothers would meet us there, and we would all watch the horse show until game time.

At least once, we watched the game in pouring rain.

The tickets were valuable. But even more valuable was the family gathering for the pure purpose of enjoyment.

The experience was never exactly the same from year to year. What was constant was the love that filled us. Memory is the experience of a precious time.

You write it: What is a precious autumn memory for you?

Two Years

Two years ago, when my husband died, a friend gave me a peace plant. It has bloomed many times—and it has grown. In fact, it has outgrown its pot.

On this, the second anniversary of his death, I’m moving the plant to a larger pot, a decision that seems symbolic. I’ve done the hard grieving. Now it’s time to give grief the space to dissipate into peace.

You write whatever response you deem fit.

Be the Change

“Be the change you wish to see in the world.” Gandhi

I tried this recently. For my peace of mind, it works. It really does. I hope you’ll try it.

Autumn Roses

I think of roses as spring flowers

That last through summer.

Yet here, at autumn’s edge,

The bushes in my yard

Yield precious red, pink, orange, and yellow.

Beautiful farewell.

You write it: What are your reflections on the changing of the seasons?

Flow

Increasingly, I’m intending to move my whole being, without resistance, into that stream of life in which what I am ready for effortlessly appears. Some people call this phenomenon “flow.” People of faith call it “God’s will.” It doesn’t matter what we call it; what matters is that we experience and recognize it.

As they are happening, these incidences seem like ordinary life. Then, on reflection, we realize that they were carrying us to a destination. This is why reflection and meditation are important—to help us realize the Divine at work in our everyday lives.

You write it: Where are you on this journey?

Grace

A mentor died recently at the age of 94. When I was a just-out-of-college teacher, she was my supervisor. She took me “under her wing.” She encouraged me. She spoke good words about me. She taught me, by example, how to be a true professional. She opened doors for me. I was promoted into each position she was being promoted out of.

Then she left our town for a job in the city. We stayed in touch. A few years later, I left for a position in that same big city—but, for the first time, not one she was being promoted out of.

By this time, we were on different paths. I had to make my own way. I could, because what I had learned from her.

Her name was Grace.

You write it: Who paved the way for you?