Thank you, Buddy

Think happy thoughts.
Peter said so. 
If you think happy thoughts, you can fly. 

Guess what? 
Peter was right.

I've been asked this more and more recently. 

"You've been through so much, how are you happy? What's the secret? What prescription has your doctor put you on?"

Here it is. 

I'm not on any prescriptions. There is no magic pill or cure. 

Every single morning I wake up with a grateful heart. I make a conscious effort to make love the focus of my day, nothing else. In every action, every word, every encounter, love is at the center. 

Don't get me wrong, I get upset. 
I still cry. 
I miss my husband. We all miss him. 
I get frustrated with day to day events. 
I get really irritated if I'm hungry or behind slow drivers.
Life happens and it pisses me off sometimes.
But even if I mess up, even if I fail, I apologize to myself or whoever was subjected to my humanism and move on. 

I realign my focus and go straight back to love. 

I read about it.
I talk about it.
I smile everywhere I go, to everyone I meet. 
Even if you're a slow driver.


Most importantly, I make sure I'm loving myself first and foremost, honoring my thoughts and feelings. And not allowing my feelings to be projected onto others. Unless I have really thought about what I'm going to say. I am mindful of everything, every action and interaction. 

And it is working. 

I am met with kindness, and empathy. I am having conversations with people I would have never imagined talking to before. I am receiving smiles from all walks of life and it is so good. 
Genuine.
What life is made for. 

How did I figure this out? 

My seven year old did it for me. 
Last year, when I was not happy, quite miserable actually. 
When I was wallowing in it, this thick, black tar of depression. It covered me from head to toe and followed me around like a slimy trail. My son would come home from school and tell me that he was the luckiest boy in the world. 

He had a grateful heart. 
He loved me, even broken and vicious, he loved me. 
He showed me what unconditional meant. 

He's seven. And his father had just died, and he's telling me it's going to be okay. 
I'm the adult. 
I'm the one who should be consoling him and here he is. 
Happy and in love with every inch of life. Loving his mother through hell. Beaming his light in my darkness. 

Slowly, that love he exuded crept into me more and more each day, until it filled me up so much I had to start sharing it myself. 

I also realized that I can not change the past nor what has happened to me but I can not repeat it. I avoid triggers, I know what sets off my depression, I know what to stay away from. 
Habits. 
Negative energy. 
Deterrents that I know will prevent me from my ultimate daily goal. Being happy. 
This is where the adult side came in to play, the decisions I had to make as one to continue on this path. 
To do what was best to share this gift I have been given. 
A second chance. 
I won't waste it.  

It's not easy and takes work but eventually I retrained my mind and day to day, moment to moment really, I live by the "golden rule". 

Funny how it's the first thing we are taught and we quickly forget, but ultimately it comes down to that. 

Treat others the way you want to be treated. 

With love.