We often find what we're looking for.

My vision board

Plan your work and work your plan. The goals we set are the goals we get. What you focus on expands. It’s an automatic ‘no’ if you don’t ask.

There are a million expressions that say essentially the same thing: we are much more likely to get where we want to go if we create some sort of map for ourselves.  That’s not to say we have to figure out how we’re going to get there (by bus or plane or train), we just need to figure out where we want to go and begin moving in that direction. That’s one reason to create a vision board.  That, and they’re just plain fun to make.

Yesterday my whole family–kids included–sat around the dining room, listened to music, flipped through magazines, cut out images and words, and purposely placed them mat boards to create a vision of what we want in our lives. It’s becoming a new year’s tradition with us.

This process is a wonderful mix of dreaming, wishing, planning, deciding and playing.  It’s creating a vision of tomorrow and enjoying the journey while laying a foundation for our goals–a touchstone to remind us of the life we want to live.

And that’s the main purpose of life, isn’t it?  To be lived.

Kellen 12-09

I often ask my daughter how she got to be so pretty.  Her common response is “I was just made that way,” which is what I used to tell her when her answer was, “I don’t know.”

Last week I asked my son, “How come you’re so handsome?”

“Because you made me,” he said.  Then he asked, “Mom, do you think you’re beautiful?”

Surprised, I answered, “Sometimes.”

“If you thought you were beautiful when you made me, then I am, too,” Kellen explained, and he went about doing whatever he was doing before.

I sat for a minute or two, thinking about what just came out of my son’s mouth; wondering if he intended to say what I think he said.

If you thought you were beautiful when you made me, then it follows that I am beautiful, too.

I had to walk away and write it down.  I have just begun to grasp this concept at 41. My son is 8 and he tossed this idea out as casually as he tosses his shirt in the hamper at the end of the day. (Note to self: evolution works.)

My brilliant son is so right.  Feeling beautiful is a symptom of loving yourself.  And anything we create when we’re in that place of kindness, confidence and love in inherently beautiful.

I am going to practice loving myself more–loving myself like I love my children: absolutely and without condition.  How beautiful would that be?

Renee & Fred

My sister, Renee, has cancer.  Again.  Her chemo treatments are causing her to lose her hair, which is very disturbing to her.  When she shaved her head her husband, Fred, shaved his.

Renee asked my mother to send me some photos of her without hair before she came to visit.  She and Fred live in Montana and Renee paused her chemo treatments for a couple of weeks to come have an early Christmas with us.  Renee was worried about how my kids, whom she adores, would react to her without hair.

I looked through the images mom sent me and the one pictured here was last.  I can’t tell you how it made me smile. My sister’s cancer is serious. She is scared.  Nearly seven years ago she lost a breast.  Now she’s lost her hair.  And yet, through tiredness and vomiting, surgeries and endless tests, there is joy.

There is still joy.

And it pulls itself up from inside to meet a loving kiss from her spouse with a laugh.

Captured here on film, Renee’s joy reminds me that today is a pretty fine day.  Any day, for that matter, is pretty darn excellent.  Because no matter what our situation or circumstances, if we can live in each moment, there is always joy somewhere inside of us. We just have to let it out.

Ben's Mini Bells

After reading my post about spreading the Joy Notes with my daughter, Becca emailed me to let me know about a similar, really cool project in Tucson called Ben’s Bells.

The story behind Ben’s Bells is amazing.  A family in Tucson lost their almost 3-year-old son, and as a way of processing and working through their grief as a family (their other son was nearly 6 at the time) they began making ceramic wind chimes.  Friends and family joined in and on the first anniversary of Ben’s death they set hundreds of Ben’s Bells out in the community for people to find and keep.

The website states to date 14,400 bells have been given away.

Ben's Bead Bells

Ben’s Bells cannot be bought.  They must be found.  Or awarded (also VERY cool).  But you can support the project and have your very own mini bells, bead bells, key chains, necklaces and more.

This project makes me smile.  A lot. It’s a wonderful way of spreading joy. It’s also an incredible example of how we can all turn pain into beauty, if we choose.

Park Bench at 8th & Everett, Portland, OR

The Joy Team hit the streets yesterday in what some (well, maybe just my dad) are calling an act of Guerilla Happiness.

My daughter, Taryn, and I dropped 23 Joy Notes at random locations in Vancouver, Washington, and Portland, Oregon.  We started what I hope to be the first of many outings with 18 different card designs — 6 of them drawn by Taryn and 12 of them created on the computer by me.

Next to Subway on Main St., Vancouver, WA

All the cards have positive, encouraging sayings and / or images on the front, hence the name Joy Notes.  On the back is a note addressed Dear Friend, which lets the finder know the card was intended for him or her to find and keep.

Taryn and I happily dropped cards on park benches, in planters, tucked in cereal isles, propped in bathrooms, nestled in store windows… Together we had a wonderful time.

Bathroom for ICU waiting room at Emanuel Hospital, Portland, OR

Driving home I was filled with joy at the thought that 23 people will stumble across these cards and their day will be brightened, even if just for a few minutes.

While Taryn and I have set out these seeds of inspiration in Portland and Vancouver, batches of Joy Notes have been sent to Seattle in Washington, Beaverton and Medford in Oregon, and Santa Fe in New Mexico.

Starbuck's on Main, Vancouver, WA

To see photos of all 23 drops, visit our Facebook Fan Page.

The fronts of the first 18 Joy Notes are below.

Joy spreads!

Joy Notes 1 from ISpyJoy.com

Joy Notes 2 from ISpyJoy.com

Joy Notes drawn by Taryn, 6 years old

Taryn on The Joy Team

Taryn and I are heading out to spread joy today in Vancouver, Washington, and Portland, Oregon.

We’ve started The Joy Team, t-shirts and all, and are on our way to put our first game plan into action.

More to come…

World Record Hug, photo by Mail Online

Joy reigned in London at the St Pancras train station as the Guinness world record for a group hug was broken.  In all, 112 people, many of them strangers, hugged each other for 60 seconds.

Now that’s what I call spreading joy!

Read the Mail Online article.

Sunlit leaves, mml 2009

My favorite thing about fall is watching the leaves change colors. It always amazes me. I am continually struck by the sheer beauty of vibrant patches of red, orange and yellow.

When the sun shines, lighting up the leaves in brilliant fashion, I find myself mesmerized. It is a simple, lovely sight in a complex pattern of people, places, and perspectives.  It centers and quiets me, this open-eyed meditation, and for as long as I can spare, I stand and soak it in.  Gratefully.  Joyously.  Reverently.

Cookie Monster by Google

I love how Google changes their logo online all the time to celebrate or acknowledge milestones in our culture. It shows a vibrant, flexible and (dare I say) fun group of people are behind the powerful search engine.

Today, as I went to search for something online I was greeted by this wonderful image of the Cookie Monster.  I grew up with Sesame Street.  Cookie Monster, Grover and Big Bird were good friends of mine.

This fabulous image of the insatiable, hairy blue monster that lives and breathes for cookies (not unlike myself, I must admit) immediately brought a wide and genuine smile to my face. And not just because he’s really cute and cuddly and we share a common cookie-bond.  Flashing somewhere in my brain was peanut butter and jelly, macaroni and cheese, sleeping bags on the living room floor and my own first furry creature – my childhood dog, Ari. (The airedale – only she was black and brown, not blue.)

It felt like coming home.

Sesame Street, for me, equals peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and all that is good and sweet and pure.  And, I suspect, it equals those things for millions and millions of others.  How do I know?  Thanks to Google, I know now that this is the 40th anniversary of Sesame Street.  And after 40 years of broadcasting, Sesame Street has won 122 Emmys and been aired in over 140 countries. 

Wow. That’s a lot of peanut butter and jelly sandwich memories.  And a whole heap of joy.

Love in chalk - mml 2009

Taking advantage of the sunny day, my daughter grabbed a bucket of chalk and went to work on the driveway. I expected a flower or two.  Maybe a self-portrait.

Imagine my surprise to find I love my (spelled MI if you’re 6 and learning phonetics) mom and I love my dad carefully scribed there instead. I beamed, of course, and told Taryn how much I loved the message and her artwork.

“I put from Taryn and Kellen,” she said with pride. “And I drew a line from you to dad cuz you guys love each other. And we love each other, so we’re all connected.”

“Yes, we are,” I agreed. I just love it when such sage-like wisdom rolls right off the tongues of children.

We are all connected. Every one of us.