I read something this morning from Dr. Wayne Dyer about happiness. He writes:
St Francis shows us how to be happy. The secret of happiness from St Francis of Assisi
You come into this world with nothing and you leave with nothing. The only thing you can do with your life is give it away. This is the true essence to feeling purposeful.
"Lord, make me a channel of thy peace.
...that where there is sadness, I may bring joy"
From the Prayer of St. Francis
I have done lots of reading about and by these two men throughout my life. Both at different times or another have brought me incredible amounts of comfort, peace, self understanding, acceptance and just purpose. In fact the book by Dr. Wayne Dyer called The Power of Intention was practically life changing for me many years ago. I have a worn copy close by that I may open from time to time reading words I know so very well. The same goes for the St. Francis prayers (amazing simple words about love, peace and light). I don't even look, I just open and read whichever or whatever is right in front of me. And sure enough very often happens to be exactly what I very much needed to hear at that exact moment. Coincidence?
Oh that cancer lady is getting weird talking about strange things, I think she's cracking with the thought of being bald soon or the pills and the cursing!!! (You yell out over your shoulder)
The reasons I wanted to share this with you was in an earlier blog I posted something about thoughts and watching them with care as from thoughts often forms words and then habits. It's why that little snippet from the prayer of St Francis means so much.
Bring sadness to joy he says. Oh sure sounds easy we snort. But what I know to be true is I'm so lucky to have a lot of that in my life. Especially now. Please hear me that I'm not that person that says false words of I'm soooooo blessed or jeepers imma a lucky gal blah blah blah. Nope neh. Trust me I don't. First off I don't use that word jeepers or shucks. Second point is If I don't tell you your baby is cute it is def cuz I don't think it is. Sorry. The end. Once long ago I told nurse muneca that a baby everyone was saying is cute was ugly and she said oh my goodness jew stop that, jew don't say that, he's cute. I crossed my arms and said well I'm not saying that.
The truth is during times of stress, sadness or struggle I have incredible amounts of joy. It is not a false front presented, then the door closes while I turn around sobbing sliding down with my back to the door. Doesn't happen.
Is it because I happen to be born into a family and surrounded by fun wisecrackers or people who are funny, ready to laugh? Is it because of my refusal to become totally mature? Is it because I internally process terrible or serious things in the way I do and laugh inappropriately or irreverently? Who knows I shrug. Please note: do NOT take the time to respond below with your thoughts on my immaturity trying to be helpful and answer. These "questions" require NO answers, I repeat NO answers, kindly remove your fingers from the keyboard.
Then (goodness gracious) I made some coo coo for cocoa puffs decision to actually document thoughts here publicly for all to bear witness? I don't try to write this blog pandering to a supposed reader. Why would I do that?? I say boobs like 10 gajillion times. How embarrassing. The truth is to get the words out at all and press publish before I delete is I use Jedi mind tricks. Telling myself don't worry Lolita no one is reading, no one will see this girl, go ahead and say that. And it works. Jokes on me when quite a few people or friends message me privately to say girlfriend that entry was killing me! Or omg you are too much! I silently die inside remembering that hehe oh yea I did write that. Woops.
So I will gladly testify that where there is sadness those who bring me joy lift me up. That when you tell me I'm positive, I believe the only thing I'm positive about is when you laugh, I laugh. That and if you fall I'm def laughing (terrible, terrible!!). When you tell me I'm brave the real truth is imma chicken who is scared of the dark, smelly things, and extreme awkwardness to a degree I want to run from it while saying feet don't fail me now. I only borrow my courage from others who I see with real daily struggles. That and I tell myself to get over myself. A lot.
