My Heart is Not in Stuff

Remember yesterday, when your home was on fire and you got to save five items? That means you left a lot of stuff behind. What are the things you wish you could have taken, but had to leave behind?

I did not write yesterdays post because the only objects that I would run into a burning house for are photos of family, my computer, an overnight bag with toiletries and a few changes of clothes , a bible crocheting to help any tension and nerves. That's it.

As for regrets, I really do not think that my heart is in things. Since I was a little girl, I have felt content with what I have materially.  Even now when my nine kids ask me what I want for Christmas, I pause for a moment with a blank mind. I have to search to come up with a list.

Rather a strange state to be in because this is not the result of spiritual striving, fasting, prayer, it is just how I am. Living with little people has only strengthened an innate tendency to enjoy the little things, to be grateful to be alive and in communion with the Spirit.

Little kids have been my teachers and taught me that the key to happiness and joy is thankfulness and appreciation for the beauty that surrounds us and especially that is just above our heads.

There is much to be grateful for if we will simply stop for a moment and really see the details which surround us every day.

Children delight in the plethora of tiny details all around them. They are born with a sense of wonder and the ability to enjoy little things.
Children love to peer closely at tiny objects. Perhaps it is because they are closer to the ground but they stop at every flower and bug, especially a bug on a flower. As they look, touch, smell, even lick each wonderful new discovery, all their attention is riveted on that one thing. At first it was difficult to slow down during our walks and let the toddlers set the pace but it was a wonderful instruction in relaxing and becoming fully present to the moment.
At first I was only capable of enjoying whatever captured my children's notice but now I realize that they were experiencing so much more than I initially thought. In their silent, non-verbal attention to nature, they were in deep communion with God Himself as He is present in His creation. Adults struggle for years to merely glimpse the intimacy that little children have naturally with God. They do not need to strive or work for this state of contemplation because they are without guile, prior opinions or expectations; they are open and look with trust, ready to absorb the love, joy and peace that envelopes them. Children are grateful for everything.
To live in a constant state of gratitude and thankfulness. Even if I were to live in the midst of a concrete jungle, I could at least stop for a moment, look up and give thanks. I simply need to remind myself to glance upwards, above my little busy world and enjoy the sky. The sky alone is an extravagant present that continually fills me with the joy if I remember to take a break from my "important" business.

Want To Be Happy?: Take off your dung coloured glasses!

 

A child looks at everything with delight.

I received free cognitive therapy because I was surrounded by a crew of little people who greeted each morning with wonder and awe.

The fleeting dream that eludes many of us is happiness. We are running around, miserable in our insular little worlds, only catching glimpses of the world around us through dung coloured glasses.The solution to our dilemma is easy. Stop. Take off our mud coloured lenses. Look. Appreciate. A therapist would charge you hundreds of dollars to teach you how to do this, calling this method cognitive therapy. I will give you this key to happiness for free.
I heard of a fellow who hated his job.Unable to find another position, he finally decided to do something to change his apathy. After dragging himself home every night after work, rather staring at the T.V. all evening, he sat in front of his computer to write. His challenge? To find one thing that he was grateful for that day and write that discovery in a new blog. His posts connected with others and soon he had a huge following. At the request of a publisher, he is now writing a book.
I discovered the same secret after years of mothering my tiny children. They taught me to take my eyes off my exhaustion and to take delight in the plethora of tiny details all around me. Little kids are born with a sense of wonder and the ability to enjoy little things. My daughter's retain an appreciation for detail; they all remember the little things.

A friend of mine once asked Rachel, when she was about six, what she liked most about Christmas. She replied immediately,
"The pineapple."

My daughter's answer astounded Martha. Similarly, one evening before dinner Emily, now a young adult, said,

"I always remember the fresh smell of clean sheets every week."

Such a small thing, yet a child, with a heart full of gratitude, takes great pleasure from it.

A few months back, Katie was recounting how pleased she was with a plant in her garden. Realizing that she was enjoying such a small thing she laughed,

"Oh my god, I sound just like Mum."

Another daughter and her husband of three months celebrated their marriage with a huge wedding reception for two hundred people. Mara had planned every detail from the match covers to the large buffet. Most of all, she poured her creative spirit into making all the decorations by hand with sisters and friends. The reception room, with black backdrops was stunning. From green wheat grass in planters, tissue paper flowers in greens and plum to spray painted Hydrangea blooms in purple, sliver, black and lime green, the room looked professionally decorated.
The things that raise my spirits are usually small and most people would not consider them significant. For example, one Christmas I was very tired and only one gift brought me genuine joy. It was hand crocheted dish clothes from my friend Cathy. ..dish clothes, beautifully made, colourful, something I used a hundred times a day.

Perhaps this is one of the blessings of a large family; free cognitive therapy from a crew of little people who greeted each morning with wonder and awe.