Inner180

I once met a woman who won the lottery.  Even though she’d already won about $500,000, she still bought lottery tickets regularly.  She told me it is very common among lottery winners to continue to play the lottery.  She absolutely knew she was lucky, and actually intended to win a second time.

My friend Kathy says she has great parking space luck.  Every time we go somewhere we park right by the front door of wherever we’re going.  She says this always happens.

I no longer think that this is random or coincidental or weird.  I think we create our luck.  We choose to allow it into our lives.  So how can we create more luck in our lives?  Try these suggestions:

Notice the luck you already have. Remember how you found that amazing jacket that fits perfectly, the last one in the store, the one that was on sale?  And how all of the traffic lights were lined up green as you drove downtown?  And how you sat next to someone at a luncheon who became your best client?  You are lucky already, aren’t you?   Now, just notice it more.

Believe that life happens for you, not to you. Even when circumstances are tough—you are laid off from work or your teenager is picked up by the police for violating your town’s curfew—know that this opens a doorway to something positive, something better for you.  Maybe it will be a more satisfying job or a chance to connect more deeply with your teen.  Whatever happens, allow it to be an opportunity to move forward, to allow something better, to grow.

Think like a lucky person. Our thoughts determine our feelings and from there we act in ways that bring us the results we get in life.  Lucky people think they are lucky, and act in ways that confirm it.

My friend Kathy has good-parking karma because she begins and ends her search with the best parking spaces in the lot.  She does this because she expects an opening there.  If she searched for a space in the back row, that’s where she’d find one, and that’s where she’d park.  And she would never think she was lucky.

Because they think they are lucky, lucky people feel lucky and act like they are lucky.  In other words, they make their luck.

So what would happen in your life if you thought you were lucky?  What if you expected life to be filled with wonder and magic and luck and great parking spots?  What thoughts would you think?  How would you feel if you believed that wonderful things would come your way, all day long?  Would you act differently?  Would you look for the best parking spaces in the lot?  Try it.  Then just notice what happens.

What’s bugging you?  Is there anything going on in your life that you think shouldn’t have happened, shouldn’t be happening?  Here are some tough yet amazingly compelling questions to ask yourself.

How is this situation right?

How is this situation perfect?

What difference is there between the two questions?  What is the difference in the answers you got?

This is a powerful way to get honest and to see reality from another perspective.  For me, it cuts right through all of the noise and clatter of self-righteousness and victimhood and blame and excuses.

I find that when I do this, I get all of my icky judgmental thoughts exposed to the light.  What’s left is honesty.  Sometimes that honesty still hurts.  But it’s a very different, clean hurt that I can allow myself to feel and move through.

The shift can be amazing.  Try it.  See for yourself what happens.

Is there a point at which we are so sublime and confident, that we can put ourselves into new challenges and not worry, not feel any fear, not have one thought that we might look foolish or screw up  or that our ideas might be rejected? Clients ask me this all the time.  I doubt it.

The diver pictured holds the Guinness Book of World Records title for jumping over 35 feet into a kiddie pool holding 12 inches of water. That’s right–12 inches of water.  His stage name is Professor Splash and I had an opportunity to talk with him a couple of years ago.  I asked him about whether he was afraid when he did a jump.  “I’m scared out of my mind,” he told me.  “I just jump anyway.”  You can watch him set a world record here.

I attended a workshop once with Debbie Ford, a multi-bestselling author who is physically stunning and super-poised.  She asked the audience, “Do you think I am never scared?  I am scared all the time.  I just don’t let it stop me.”

Doubt and fear seem to be widespread human responses to challenging situations.  After we’ve learned to see through our old beliefs, and we begin to develop new ones, those old thoughts lose their power to stop us.  I need approval, I screwed up, the world may think my ideas are wacky—these thoughts may still pop up again, particularly when we have placed ourselves at risk by doing something new, something that challenges our comfort zone.

We feel the old fears, and hear the old thoughts and worries when we take risks.  But we can recognize them for what they are—just thoughts.  And from this place, we can keep going. The fear and worry lose their power over us when we don’t let them stop us.  This is what it feels like to grow.

A study at Harvard Medical School released in December found that happiness spreads through social networks in amazing ways.  One happy person can trigger a happy reaction in a friend who can trigger a happy reaction in another friend, who can trigger another happy reaction in another friend, who (you guessed it) can trigger another happy reaction in yet another friend. In all, this chain reaction can spread three degrees away from the original happy person.

The influence is not only on friends.  Family members and even neighbors catch it, too.  And what’s even more amazing is that this joyous effect can last up to one whole year!

Here’s another finding of the study:  unhappiness is not as powerful as happiness.  Sad feelings do not spread as efficiently as joyful ones.

The study analyzed data from nearly 5,000 people and found that friends, families, and even neighbors can influence each other in ways that spread to indirect relationships-your happiness can influence your neighbor and her friends, her friends’ friends, and their friends’ friends’ friends.

What are some practical implications for those of us who seek to maximize our happiness?  That’s right, hang out with happy people and their friends.  And be aware that your mood can influence others far removed from you.

We may be separated by six degrees, but we are connected by our happiness through three degrees!

Suzanne left a comment to the post from a few days ago: The Joy of an Insolent Teenager.  She’s so right–the most challenging relationships are the ones we learn the most from.  I’m posting Suzanne’s comment here, so the you can listen to the song as you read it.

From Suzanne:

Part of me says “Thank goodness I have passed the stage and lived through it with my children.” One was easier than the other.  In hind sight the most difficult one was the one that taught me the most.

On his wedding day, the mother and son dance was the song by Carole King called “Child of Mine”.  Most of the song (see below the lyric) was very appropriate to my son and I wanted to honour him with it.  I must say I was and still am proud of that beautiful moment.

CHILD OF MINE

Although you see the world different than me
Sometimes I can touch upon the wonders that you see
All the new colors and pictures you’ve designed
Oh yes, sweet darling
So glad you are a child of mine

Child of mine, child of mine
Oh yes, sweet darling
So glad you are a child of mine

You don’t need direction, you know which way to go
And I don’t want to hold you back, I just want to watch you grow
You’re the one who taught me you don’t have to look behind
Oh yes, sweet darling
So glad you are a child of mine

Child of mine, child of mine
Oh yes, sweet darling
So glad you are a child of mine

Nobody’s gonna kill your dreams
Or tell you how to live your life
There’ll always be people to make it hard for a while
But you’ll change their heads when they see you smile

The times you were born in may not have been the best
But you can make the times to come better than the rest
I know you will be honest if you can’t always be kind
Oh yes, sweet darling
So glad you are a child of mine

Child of mine, child of mine,
Oh yes, sweet darling
So glad you are a child of mine

Child of mine, child of mine
Oh yes, sweet darling
So glad you are a child of mine

This is our week of feasting on the joy diet.  We’ll begin with a ritual marking the celebration of the feast, experience the connection with the nourishment this feast provides us, and feel our gratitude for having this experience.  Over and over during our day, we’ll have the opportunity to direct our attention to what we have right before us, to re-experience and acknowledge how it feeds our souls, and our gratitude for these experiences in our lives.

I’ve transformed a small ritual into a feast, and given it my full attention.  Before each class I teach and before each client I coach, I brew a fresh cup of tea.  I noticed how it nourishes my senses: the warmth of the cup in my hands, the vapor and smell rising from it, and the feeling of the warm liquid as it travels inside me.  Then, a moment of feeling the gratitude I have for this gift that I receive, over and over, through my day.

What ritual do you already perform each day that can be transformed to a feast?

From Joy Dieter Bonnie’s journal…

I’m up early, 4:30.  I put on Christmas music, light a fire in the fireplace, and pour the first cup of freshly brewed coffee.  I get out the card stock printed with a poem from Martha Beck’s book Steering by Starlight. I have bought a stamp of cascading snowflakes, an artsy ink pad and glitter to add a touch of magic to the insert for my Christmas cards.

I stamp the first poem. Hmmm. It doesn’t look so special. Hmmm. I add some glitter. Oh **!!??!!!**!! I blobbed. That looks stupid! I try again. I blob again! I take my finger and try to artfully smear my blob. Oh !!!XXX******1?!! I have tons of these to do!! Pull yourself together girl! After all you are an artist. This stuff, these stupid stamps and dumb glitter, is for kids for goodness sake!

I notice I don’t feel so Christmassy. My faced is screwed up. My shoulders are tight.  As I’m holding the glitter bottle, I notice that my hand and my teeth are clenched. I yell at my cat when he comes onto the table and attempts to relax amongst the craft supplies and just hang with me. Damn cat! Damn Christmas cards! Damn, damn, damn!

I move, to brood, in front of the fire. My journal is there beside the couch. I pour a second cup of coffee and write: “What are you thinking girl?”

“The inserts look stupid. I thought this would be fun. I thought they would be special. They’re not good enough.  I want people to like them, to think that they are special. I should have gone back to the place where I bought those bookmarks last year. Everyone really liked them and I got a lot of compliments.”

Whoa! Hang on one minute.
THEY aren’t good enough? Is that true?
That’s a really special poem you’ve got there.

“ I want the insert to be special. I’m giving it as a gift. I want it to be something people will like and appreciate and value.”

Sounds pretty demanding to me. Sounds pretty manipulating. You send it, and they will what?,  do what you want? be how you want?  Reminds me of a ransom note, Do this, or else… How do you feel when you think the inserts aren’t good enough?

“I feel like throwing everything out. I feel like trashing the cards, like throwing them in the fireplace.”

Doesn’t sound like peace and goodwill to me.
.
“I want people to like them.”

Like them? Tell me where I’m wrong here, but it sounds like it’s about you – about whether people like you. You want people to like you, isn’t that what’s true here?

“Okay, I do want people to like me. But, I want people to like the insert in the card. I just don’t think the inserts are good enough?”

You think, the INSERTS are not good enough?

Hmmmmmm. “Maybe I’m thinking I’m not good enough!”

What could you send if you felt, “I am good enough.”, or,  “I Am enough.” ?

“I could send love. I wouldn’t even need to send cards, I could engage every person on my card list in my heart and send them love. Or I could send love, that I’m actually feeling, with each card.”

How do you feel when you think, “I can send love.”?

“Good! I feel happy and open and Christmassy. I feel loving.”

Okay. Lets start again                                            :
Martha passed along a gift, pass it on.
Where did the gift come from?

“Hmmmm, The Source. The Source so loved the world a gift was given….
Hmmmm. The African people received the gift and passed it on.”

Good. Martha received a gift and passed it on…

“I received it and I pass it on.
The card insert receivers receive it and… that’s their business I stay out of it.”

Good! How do you feel now?

“I feel unwound, happy, relaxed, I feel Christmassy. I can feel the warmth of the fire, I can hear the beautiful Christmas music and I realize my cat is snuggled up beside me as I journal.”

How do you feel about the stamping and the glitter and everything now?

“I look forward to playing with the stamps and glitter. Really playing, joyfully playing, imprinting each card with joy and love and goodwill, blobs and all. I receive and I pass it on….I’m going to live while I’m alive!”

Live while you are alive…
Learn to be what you are in the seed of your spirit
Learn to free yourself from all things that have molded you
And which limit your secret and undiscovered road…
Never forget that love
Requires that you be
The greatest person you are capable of being,
Self-generating and strong, and gentle -
Your own hero and star…
Be grateful for life as you live it,
And may a wonderful light
Always guide you along the unfolding road.

Last night, I attended Art Basel Miami Beach, a yearly international contemporary art exhibition that takes place at the Miami Beach Convention Center and other shows all over town.  I wandered among a huge crowd, inches from thousands of original works by Picasso, Miro, Chagall, Matisse, Hockney, Rothko, Calder, Kandinsky.

But this isn’t an art museum.  This stuff is for sale.  And people are buying.  I eavesdropped on a conversation about price:  “300,000?  Hmmm.”

I began doing nothing in the presence of the crowd: young New York hipsters in amazing, creative outfits, Cuban couples holding hands, women with straight red hair cut in angular shapes.  Everyone looked so beautiful through eyes looking out with joy.

I stopped at a photograph by a favorite, Sally Mann.  It was her daughter, probably about twelve, holding a candy cigarette as if it were real, the insolent, defiant face of a young teenager stopped in time and on full display.  I’ve seen the shot in a book I own, but there, full-sized, it was even more powerful.

I saw that same look on my daughter’s face so many times during that stage of half-adult, half-child.  A look of I love you but I’m going my own way now and I’m going to experiment and break rules and there’s not a damned thing you can do about it.

I stood before the photo, happy to see it and even more happy that I don’t live with a thirteen year old girl right now.  A small crowd began to join me.  I turned to the woman next to me.  She was smiling lovingly too.  And everyone who had stopped was looking at this child in the photo with the same loving eyes.

We began to chat and laugh about the photograph. One woman said  she used to love candy cigarettes too.  And I remembered the fun of pretending to “smoke” them.  Someone else said they were living with that face at home right now—their own fourteen year old.  We all laughed together, in our collective adult wisdom.

I’ve never had this kind of experience at an art exhibit before.  Who knew there was such overwhelming joy in the presence of a defiant teenager?

I’m being visited by a family member who is a master at pushing my buttons.  Instead of experiencing the joy of connection, I’ve been going back to the truth exercises over and over.  It went on for two days out of a four day visit, with no relief.

It was so obvious that she is in pain.  And so obvious that I was accepting the invitation to dance an old dance again.  And I couldn’t stop.  (At least that’s the story I told myself.)  And we were having a rotten, miserable time together.

Then I remembered the exercise I wrote about on Day 14—Is our Loved One’s Pain Contagious?  When I initially wrote about it, it was in the context of becoming immune to someone else’s low spirits.  I just discovered that the exercise works with when our loved one is pushing our buttons.

Here’s what I wrote then:  realize that you are bigger than the other person’s emotion—so big that you can hold their emotion without it impacting you.  It can simply pass through you.

I began to imagine that I was literally huge, that I extended ten feet in every direction with compassionate, loving energy.  I visualized this both in and out of her presence.  I almost felt like I was floating, I became so large.

It worked.  Her “stuff” stopped bugging me.  I stopped wanting her to stop, I stopped asking her to stop, I stopped asking her to notice what she was saying and doing.  I was so large, it didn’t impact me. It passed right through me.

It worked like magic.  It stopped.  Our reactivity to each other vanished.  We began to connect again.  Now, we are smiling and laughing and hugging.  It’s downright joyful.

In a comment to yesterday’s post, Jenny writes: It seems almost effortless to cultivate joy and acceptance when I am away from my normal life and routine. As soon as I return, I fall into the old patterns so easily.  Do you have any ideas for allowing the joy and acceptance to flow into your daily routine as easily as they do when you are away?

Here’s what I’m wondering: what if the statement, “It is easier to be joyful when I am away from my daily routine” is itself a painful story?  What if “when I am in my normal routine,  joy eludes me” is simply another version of it?   What would happen if you exposed those statements to our Truth questions:

What am I feeling?
What hurts?
What is the painful story I am telling myself?
Can I be sure this painful story is true?
Is my painful story working?
Can I think of another story that might work better?

What might you discover?