Surprisingly good mood, appreciation, coincidence

I went in to work for a few hours today to finish off some end-of-month billing. Not only did going to work on my day off not make me cross, I was in a great mood. Bizarre! I did get to have a sleep in, and I enjoyed soaking up some warmth from the sun on my way into the office, so I suppose that helped. 

My boss left me a note on top of the bills. When I first saw the blue note paper poking out of the manila folder I groaned inwardly thinking it was going to be a page of annoying handwritten edits, but no.  It's nice to be appreciated. 

This appeared in my Facebook timeline on day 2 of my shopping ban, courtesy of Grandiloquent Word of the Day. Quite the coincidence. Not that I considered my urge to shop to be obsessive or  uncontrollable.  

  

Grateful, crafty, fantastical

Today is a public holiday in Australia for Anzac Day. I had toyed with the idea of going to the dawn service since I live so close to the Shrine of Remembrance, but I couldn't face such an early start on a cold and wet day. Yes, I know that's sooky, especially when you think about the sacrifices made by those who have served their country in appalling conditions. I had a nice sleep in instead, but I did take time to be grateful for living in a safe, peaceful country with a roof over my head and a warm bed.

I made myself bacon and eggs for brunch (yum) and then spent most of the rest of the day on the couch reading blogs, indulging my Pinterest addiction and listening to music. I didn't set foot outside into the cold drizzly day at all.

I also made a light shade for the light in my loungeroom. The original light shade (the same as the one below) fell to the floor and smashed (eeep!) before I moved in and it's been a naked bulb ever since, which is a bit ugly.

But today I had a brainwave and decided to make a shade myself. Ta-dah!

Naked no more

It's one of those Christmas paper lanterns kids used to make at school (still might, I don't know). It took all of 15 minutes to make and put up. I love the patterns the light makes on the ceiling. 

I forgot to show you the paper hearts I made during my three-week staycation.

There's five of these ones and four smaller ones hanging in a row from the pelmet box over my loungeroom window. Simple, quick, inexpensive, colourful and fun (they co-ordinate nicely with one of my My Little Ponies). I also took some cool photos of them before I hung them up.

 

And I forgot to post a photo of the big feather I found at the Abbotsford Convent a couple of weekends ago. Here tis:

While moodling about on the internet last night I came upon the fantastical art of Catrin Welz-Stein. I love it, especially this piece. And this. And this one.

Speaking of fantastical stuff, have a look at the video clip for The Shins' song The Rifle's Spiral.  Thanks to my loyal reader and interwebs friend Margaret for sending me the link. 

I also found this: 

It's similar to one of my favourite quotes by Robertson Davies: "Every man makes his own summer". 

Laughter through tears

"Life is not meant to be easy, my child; but take courage: it can also be delightful"

This George Bernard Shaw quote, which I heard in conversation at a friend's birthday party, helped to inspire me to start this blog back on 1 September 2008. But this year, the quote has become more of a personal mantra. You see, 2010 has not been a good year for me and my family... 

I have hinted at these difficulties in a few recent posts, but now I have decided to reveal what has been happening, for several reasons. It would seem to go against the gleeful grain, but bear with me.

OK. This is what happened (deep breath): my father was diagnosed with a terminal illness in early January and he passed away yesterday. His doctors had given him a life expectancy of five years, but he was gone less than five months later, just making it beyond his 60th birthday. My quiet, funny, strong but soft-hearted, capable Dad...gone. Just like that. I still can't believe he got sick, let alone that he isn't here anymore.

This is the most difficult thing I have ever gone through in my life. After Dad was diagnosed, I was tempted to take a break from writing Gleeful. I thought, "How am I ever going to be happy again?" How would I find anything gleeful to write about, much less the enthusiasm to put fingers to keyboard?

But I soon realised how wrong-headed this was. I had a stern word with myself: Jayne, that is not the way we do things here, I said. If you stop writing now, you will be abandoning your faith in the idea that underpins this blog, that you can make yourself happier by being more mindful and appreciative of life's simple pleasures even when life isn't going your way.  If you really believe this is possible - and you do, dammit - you can't stop now. This ordeal will put that idea to the test like nothing else. 

And it has. And let me just tell you, this idea rocks (I can't claim it as my own). The past few four months - particularly the past four weeks - have been scary, emotional and exhausting, but they have also been delightful, in ways small and not so small.

The big delightful stuff

* It's empowering to face adversity and get through it. I was continually amazed at my ability to cope with things I never imagined that I would be able to get through. You just do what you have to do. I feel like I can face almost anything now. New York on my own for my first overseas trip? Pah! Piece of cake, baby. (Less than three weeks away now!)

* It's pretty darn nice when people tell you they admire the way you're handling things, that your Dad would be proud (even if you think they would probably do the same thing in your shoes).

* It brought me closer to my Dad and other members of my family. It also created a bond with my step-family, which didn't really exist before.

* It's strengthened my friendships and also brought me closer to people I've just met - or never met, like a legion of Twitter friends,  who have supported me through this, particularly in the past few weeks (Twitter really helped get me through the nights on my own at the hospital with Dad). Times like this make you realise that people are actually wonderful. Not that I'm a misanthrope, but sometimes we all need a little reminder. Every day lately I've been moved by the kindness and generosity of friends and strangers offering both practical and emotional support - or just a distraction.  If any of you are reading, you are awesome and I'm so glad to know you.

* It's made me appreciate (all over again) how lucky I am. Yes, really. I'm lucky I got to know my Dad as an adult, unlike a lot of people who lose a parent when they're young. I'm lucky I got to say goodbye. I'm lucky I've made it to 37 before going through something this tough. I've led a charmed life, really. There are so, so many people far worse off than I am.

Small delights

Even in the past few days, I've continued on my glee-spotting way. I honestly think I can't help it now. It's second nature. I'm inveterate. Here's some of the things that buoyed me up:

*  On Friday, two books I ordered from Amazon arrived unexpectedly early. One was the Book of Awesome, which I blogged about recently. It is indeed awesome. I adore it. I started to read it while sitting at Dad's bedside. I laughed out loud. I smiled. Its bite-size chunks of text made it perfect reading for the circumstances. 

* The other book was the pop up version of my favourite Dr Seuss book - Oh, The Places You'll Go! I read this at Dad's bedside too and it was also very fitting, being about getting through life's ups and downs, as it is. And the pop-uppiness of it is fantastic. Very detailed and intricate and just all round awesome. I'm very taken with it. I will post some pictures of it later on.

* Music. The CDs I bought last week (or whenever it was - time has passed in a blur) have really grown on me. The Angus and Julia Stone CD is heart-achingly, simply, delicately beautiful. The White Stripes live CD rocks - I love it more than I expected. Florence and the Machine is fantastic. All of them will remind me of this hard time in my life and I'm OK with that.

* One day last weekend I was walking down the steps of Flinders Street Station to the sound of a busker playing the bagpipes. I put my earphones in to listen to my iPod and...all I could hear was the bagpipes! What the dickens! The busker is in my iPod! What's going on!? As I crossed at the lights, I realised it was the bagpipe introduction of the White Stripes' live CD! The music was exactly the same (but then it was the bagpipes...).

* Last week I went to Myer to buy some travel accessories and a backpack for my trip. I arrived there to find 40% off travel goods. All right! Good timing, me! I got about $140 worth of stuff for $80, and I used a gift card to pay for $70 of it. I also got a $20 voucher for spending more than $75. Sometimes things just fall into place...

* Made up words. I made up a new portmanteau word - evilsome, which is awesome and evil at the same time. One of my Twitter friends used the word "whimmy" - in the mood to do something on a whim.

* Twitter helped me procure a gluten-free pizza while I was at the hospital. I idly tweeted "I wonder if I could get a gluten-free pizza delivered to the hospital?" A Twitter pal (the whimmy one, who is coeliac) replied with the details of a nearby place that does GF pizza. I rang them up and got it delivered. Never let it be said that Twitter is pointless.

* My friend's three-year-old son Nathan. He is such an adorable little boy. My friend told him I might be visiting and that I might be sad, and he replied with: "But Jayne is my aunty and I love her. She can't be sad if I love her." Aaaaws. My heart went melty. My friend tried to explain (as much as you can to a small child) why I was sad and he said that he would call Spiderman and ask him to look after my Dad. Gorgeous. 

* Silly (and pleasantly distracting) Twitter conversations. I've been engaged in an ongoing exchange of words that sound dirty but aren't necessarily with one Twitter friend (eg flap, spatchcock). It's gone on for days and occasionally drawn in other participants. Juvenile, yes, but fun. I'm also constructing a Twitter fantasty in which I am Bionic Librarian, a cardigan-clad superhero fighting ignorance and stupidity with my trusty sidekick, Mysterious Library Aficianado (whose catchphrase is, "If you'd only read more books, I wouldn't have to kick your ass"), my Pearls of Destruction and Forcefield of Silence. Heeee.

* Saying "Laffter through tears is mah favourite ee-motion" (that's a Southern American drawl), a line from the movie Steel Magnolias, which I always think of when I laugh while I'm sad. There's been a bit of that lately, as you can imagine.

Last night I decided that I would write a post here every day until I leave for New York on May 14. And that's what I'm gonna do.

Ummm...

So...some good things about today...

* Lamb mini roast for dinner.

* My wheat bag. Warrrrrm.

* An early night. Right now.

Another rainbow

As I was leaving work tonight

We have had a return to wintry weather in Melbourne. Brrr. But look! Up in the sky! A rainbow!

I like the cold less and less as I get older, but the prolonged dry spell in South Eastern Australia means rain is a much more welcome visitor. I can't bring myself to complain about it, even if it does sometimes spoil my plans or make me soggy on my walk to work.

I've also made a conscious effort not to complain about miserable weather since a very cold and wet day a few months ago when I saw a homeless man walking in the rain without even an umbrella for shelter.

Sometimes it's good to be reminded how truly fortunate most of us are...

Gleeful is 1!

Today is special for three reasons: it's the first day of spring, it's Gleeful's first birthday and this is my 200th post. Yay, yay and yay!

The blog has turned out to be a little less frequent than I envisaged, but I still can't believe it's been 12 months since I kicked off with a post about the Muppets and an R rated movie. And I can't be stopped now. I'm the Glee Monster. Rarrrrr!

It's been a joy to write Gleeful - to go through the year seeking out and celebrating the simple pleasures that life can offer if you open your eyes to them. I know it sounds cheesy, but I really do believe that the secret to happiness is being able to appreciate small things, because that's mostly what life is - a string of small things. I'm certainly a lot happier - and a lot nicer to be around - since I worked that out.

Of course a big, big thank you to all of you for reading and commenting. I would have kept writing the blog anyway if nobody read it (well, I think I would have...) but you've made it so much more rewarding. You've been the yummy icing on the chocolate cake of glee.

And now for some Muppets to celebrate:

PS I also celebrated with actual chocolate cake.

A sombre 100th post

This is my 100th post, but I'm not feeling in a celebratory mood. As many of you know, Victoria, the state of Australia I live in, has been and continues to be ravaged by bushfires. A staggering 131 people have died and there is no doubt the toll will rise.

It's the worst natural disaster in Australia's history. Whole towns have been wiped off the map, hundreds of thousands of hectares of land is blackened, and thousands of people are homeless and traumatised. It's shocking, gruesome and heartbreaking...and it's far from over.

I normally write about the simple pleasures that add the texture to life, but at times like this, it's impossible not to reflect on the big picture and and to be grateful for the things that really matter - being alive and well, having people to love, being safe and secure and having a roof over your head.

My heart goes out to all those people who have lost their loved ones, their homes, their communities and livelihoods.

***

Of course I am also very pleased you have all continued to drop in to read my ramblings and share your own gleeful moments. Thank you.

Christmas greetings

Before I head off to bed before Santa's arrival, I'd like to wish you all a very happy and peaceful Christmas with your loved ones and a gleeful New Year.

Thank you so much for stopping by and sharing the glee. It's been a fabulous few months and I look forward to more in 2009.

Jayne x

My diary of glee - Launching on 1 September

"Life is not meant to be easy, my child; but take courage: it can be delightful." - George Bernard Shaw

Inspired by the blogs Three Beautiful Things and The Happiness Project, I am launching my own blog chronicling my daily efforts to keep my little inner spring of happiness bubbling away.

I lead a simple life and have learnt that it's the simple pleasures that add the colour to the canvas of my life.

I've had some down times in recent years, but I've learnt to lift my own mood and appreciate all that's good in my life by seeking out and celebrating the little joys that can so easily go unnoticed if you're not open to them. They are everywhere if you train yourself to look.

Mindfulness is a key principle here. When you're not happy, it's easy to live "in your head", to walk with your eyes downcast, to rush and worry and remain oblivious to simple pleasures. Mindfulness is being "present in the moment" (sorry, I know it's a cringey phrase), being aware with all your senses of all that is around you - the smell of jasmine on the evening air, the sound of bell birds in the gardens, the feel of sunshine on your face, the sight of the first buds of spingtime and the sherbetty zing of a lime spider as it hits your tastebuds. Aaaaaaah....

But it's not just about noticing stuff - it's about appreciating the little things, revelling in them, letting them lift you up, being grateful for them and for the joy they bring.

More broadly, it's about choosing to be happy, to consciously direct your attention to things that will buoy your spirits. I'm not saying that we should push negative events and feelings to a dark corner of our minds and try to forget about them, just that being open to good things can help us to be delighted even when life isn't easy.

Even if you're already happy, seeking out and celebrating simple pleasures can add an extra level of richness to your daily life.

I'm posting my first entry on 1 September - the first day of spring, the season of renewal and hope - because it coincides with my first tentative, but optimistic, steps into a new phase of my life. I've recently ended once and for all an off-and-on relationship and I'm excited about the possibility that lies before me.

So, enough preamble. Let the blogging begin (in a week's time anyway...)! Oh, my vague plan is to post something every day, but whether I follow the "three things" format, I'm not sure. I probably haven't really thought this through yet!