RADICAL HAPPINESS

Happiness. Joy. Delight! Throughout history there have been wars, famines, plagues, insurrection, trials and tribulations in just about every country you’ve heard about and maybe some you haven’t. Often, when I see photos or paintings, or read literature about them, I also see hope, resilience, redemption, joy, wonder, creativity and an abiding faith that the sun will rise tomorrow.

Here’s what I discovered: I was able to find joy and happiness every day, in some small or large way. Some of the events of 2020 that have now stretched into 2021 are a reminder of what life can be even in our darkest moments. 

In the early months of Covid, my friend Victoria began posting lively, colorful numbers on a gray wall, adding playful comments and objects to keep count of the days, weeks, months. Later she posted imagined journeys to international sites, inviting others to join her for virtual meals together, overlooking breathtaking views of oceans, mountains, and wine tours down spectacular European rivers. For me, this was an exercise in freedom to smile, laugh and wonder. 

As spring turned to summer, I conjured up a garden on my terrace, where nothing except cement had been. It  brought me the unending delight of skywatching. Clouds, sunsets, moonrise, all of nature’s wonders were now available to me. Birds have their own special skytrail between our two bodies of water in San Miguel: the Presa and the Charco del Ingenio, and until then, I hadn't realized that my rooftop is in their path. Watching which trees they land in, how they signal when it's time to fly, I became aware of a coordination, a dance, that still gift me with smiles and awe.

When Patricia at Casa de Colibri, gifted me with a hummingbird feeder, I reestablished a ritual I hadn’t enjoyed for years. When I used to have cats that caught them and dropped them at my feet, I gave up trying to attract birds of any kind. Now, those tiny beings found me on the terrace, and if I happened to be wearing hot pink, red, or orange, they hovered within inches of my face, trying to determine whether I was food or friend. 

I was introduced to a new app by my friend Glen, and I began to find joy again in my rather sporadic meditation practice. Virtually chanting with monks and nuns while the rest of the world is outside, doing whatever they’re doing, became an easy habit to reincorporate. I am transported a glorious temple with golden statues, accompanied by smiling strangers whose voices I am in tune with. 

Joy also comes in the form of artmaking, and it showed up here in a huipil that I created during the beginning stages of the pandemic. Looking at all my fabric remnants, some pinks and corals jumped out at me.  As I started piecing them together, pinning and stitching and trying not to think too hard, I noticed I felt lighter and more enthusiastic about the way it was coming together. There was a regal, feminine strength that I didn’t yet know how to talk about, but when I stood back to look at it, I realized I was smiling. I was conscious of an emotion emanating from an inanimate object, and that emotion was happiness.  It’s a radical notion to feel vibrationally charged by such a presence. The title came to me in response to that energy, thus, it became The Empress of Happiness. 

In all these ways and more, life in solitude became not only bearable during a devastating period in our lives and in our world, but life itself reminded me that our purpose here on this planet might just be this: be happy! 

Bring happiness to others, but first, allow it within yourself so that it can be shared.