Developing a Better You

Tag: happiness

How to Be Happy

After twenty-six years, I was tired.

Being a professional musician was my dream. My focus. My passion. I’d fought, scratched, and clawed to make a living doing something I craved. Something I believed in. I loved it.

Until I didn’t. The passion faded, and I found myself going through the motions. I still had the skill, but I’d lost the heart. So I made one of the toughest decisions of my life. After thousands of performances, I walked off the stage for the last time.

Being an author was something I’d dreamed about since I was a kid but never pursued. When I chose the music path, I left the writing path behind me. 

But decades later, life led me back to that fork in the road. Walking away from music gave me the opportunity to walk toward writing. Tentatively, fearfully, I took my first halting steps toward my long-delayed author dream. It was hard. It was scary. It was daunting.

And I was alive again. It filled my thoughts, made me bound out of bed, and lit my heart on fire. The passion that once fueled my music career burned bright for my new creative pursuit. I went from a high level in my first career to the bottom rung of my second. And I was happy.

If you want to be happy, set a goal that commands your thoughts, liberates your energy, and inspires your hopes.

andrew carnegie

Are you happy? Fulfilled? Do you have passion? Excitement? If not, follow Carnegie’s advice. Set a goal that commands your thoughts. Liberates your energy. Inspires your hopes. If you do, you’ll feel alive again, and you’ll take another step toward Becoming Yourself.

How to Be Happy (Part 1): Make Your 10-Year-Old Self Proud

In honor of the kid inside all of us who longs to come out at Christmas, I decided to repost a story I originally shared in October of 2017. May it inspire your inner 10 year old this holiday!

A few nights ago, I saw a ghost light. My wife and I have a deck off our bedroom that overlooks the backyard. Before going to sleep, I usually sit out there and take some time to reflect back on the day, pray and look at the stars. That’s what I was doing when I saw it. Just a glimmer, high up on the brush-and-boulder-covered hill behind our house.

At first I thought I was seeing things. There are no lights of any kind on that hill. Very rarely I’ll see the flashlight beam of a night-time hiker on the ridge but never down on the slope. It’s rugged and difficult desert terrain with nowhere to go. And you wouldn’t want to be caught up there in the dark with the rattlesnakes, coyotes, scorpions and javelina. But against all odds, there was this light.

I asked my wife, Lisa, to come out, and with the aid of binoculars, we watched it dim and brighten, swirl and pulse in a seemingly random pattern. For fifteen minutes, we observed it, trying to come up with every possible rational explanation. It wasn’t the reflected light of a headlight or a swimming pool. It wasn’t landscape lighting from a backyard. It wasn’t a white cloth fluttering in the breeze reflecting moonlight. Our best guess was that it was a light-up dog toy that a hiker tossed to their pet up on the hill. Maybe it went over the edge and got lodged on the slope. Eventually we went to bed, still wondering.

Urquhart Castle, Loch Ness, Scotland. A famous Nessie spotting site

The next morning we were up before dawn and I stepped out on the deck to check the slope. Much to my surprise, the light was still there, pulsing mysteriously in the early morning darkness. I was intrigued. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been fascinated by strange and seemingly supernatural phenomena. I’ve always loved reading about ghosts and UFOs, Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster. I was a huge fan of the TV show The X-Files (we named our cats Scully and Mulder). And here, virtually in my own backyard, was a mysterious light.

In that moment, wearing pajamas, standing in the dark, my head still fuzzy from sleep, I asked myself a question – should I go investigate? An internal tug-of-war began between my current 48-year-old self and my former 10-year-old self. 48’s argument went something like this:

It’s dark. I’m tired. I have stuff to do. It’s a tough climb just to get up the hill using the trail and then I’d have to scramble down through the brush and boulders. I’d have to run to get there before the sun comes up and hides the light. And there are nasty critters out there that I don’t want to meet in the dark.

48 nodded approvingly. A pretty convincing argument. Then I remembered a line from a TV commercial I saw months ago. I don’t remember what the product was but the tag line stuck with me: do something that would make your 10-year-old self proud. With that recollection, 10 piped up. His argument went something like this:

Are you kidding me?! This is AWESOME! A mysterious ghost light right in my own backyard? I gotta check this out! When will I ever get this opportunity again? Come on 48, get off your tail! You know you’ll regret this later if you don’t at least try. Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!

Me at Loch Ness, Scottland

48 wavered under this onslaught of sheer enthusiasm. My inner Monster Hunter woke up and roared. Before I could talk myself out of it, I turned to Lisa and said, “I’m going up.” As I raced to change, she told me to be careful but was all for it. She was as curious as I was. Lisa would stay at the house and help guide me to the light from her vantage point via cell phone.

Ten minutes later, I was standing at the top of the hill, out of breath from the steep climb. Flashlight in hand, I scrambled down the slope, picking my way over boulders and through the brush, ears alert for the “what-are-you-doing-on-my-turf” shake of a rattlesnake’s tail. I was racing the coming dawn and losing. I had to find the ghost light before it disappeared, lost in the sunrise. I picked up my pace and in so doing, dislodged a large rock which crashed into my ankle, leaving it bloodied and throbbing.

The hill behind our house. Can you see my blue shirt in the upper left?

I stopped to catch my breath and call Lisa so she could direct my search from below. She told me the ghost light was dimming fast and tried to talk me over to it. Then she lost sight of it and neither of us could figure out exactly where it had been. I heard noises and looked to see a herd of javelina (wild desert pigs) making their way up the slope toward me. The big ones have sharp teeth and can be nasty when they’re with their young. I clapped my hands and yelled to drive them away and continued my search. I scoured the area for another fifteen minutes but to no avail. The light was gone, washed away by sunshine. I gave up and limped home.

As I write this, I can look down and see my tender, scabbed-over ankle. My back is throbbing. I must have twisted it somehow scrambling around on the rocks. So I ask myself – was it worth it? 48 turns to 10 and gives a begrudging nod. 10 beams. Totally worth it.

Happiness is an elusive goal. I usually find it when I’m chasing other things. I’m not saying that a key to happiness is to do EVERYTHING that would make my 10-year-old self proud (Oreo pizza a la mode for dinner anyone?). But for me, this challenge is a good one. I too easily default to the “shoulds” in my life. The grown-up responsibilities. The expected. The practical. When I was 10, I wanted to chase ghosts. I wanted to write a book. A spooky, mystery-adventure book. In honor of my childhood self, I just chased a ghost.  I’ve also started that book. I’m on chapter 22 and having a ball. I’ll let you know when I’m done.

Me and Lisa with our new favorite Snapchat filter

What about you? What would make your 10-year-old self proud? Going on that trip you’ve always wanted to take? Rafting that river? Exploring that castle? Learning that instrument? Archery lessons? Make a list. Make it crazy. Try not to run it through your “that’s not practical” grown-up filter. Then pick one thing and do it. Be mindful of spontaneous opportunities that come your way too. Let 10 choose your response once in a while. If you do, you’ll take another happy step toward Becoming Yourself.

P.S. So about that ghost light. It was back the next night and the following morning. I chased it again, earlier this time and with some neighbor friends. We got closer but still couldn’t find it before sunrise. Then it was gone for the next two nights. It appeared again this morning but I got up too late and am still hobbled by my tweaked back. But I’m going to keep looking. And keep chasing. I’ll let you know if I ever find it.

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