Sometimes I think about life as if it were a puzzle.  I’m sure most people can relate to this as there are so many pieces of one’s life.  We begin as infants, brand new to a world of unknown experience.  We learn through hearing, touching, smelling, tasting, seeing and sensing the people and things around us.  As curious beings, we use these senses to discover everything through progressive awareness of the world around us.  All of this happens and we have no memory of it, later on, especially in our adult lives.  It’s pity though, because we use them less, and think more.

I am not saying thinking is wrong.  On the contrary, thinking is absolutely necessary.  But, life is not always logical and so we need to engage our senses to get the whole picture of the events of our lives.  I find that if I think too much, I am less sensitive to the nuances and subtleties that contribute to wise decision-making.  But usually that is not a problem because I am a feeler according to the Myers-Briggs criteria for personality types.  And sometimes, feelings can get in the way of logical thinking.  But both are equally important.

So, how does one solve the problems, or puzzle pieces we encounter?  Thinking and feeling and remembering our past experiences are certainly good ways.  And sometimes, it is a good idea to consult an expert.  Thinking of life as a puzzle is good for me, because I like them.  Puzzle pieces are more attractive than problems to me.  Either way it is problem solving.

Hopefully, we learn something everyday.  And each bit of information is stored.  We may not be able to retrieve the information immediately, but it is usually there, even if it might be misplaced.  It is my belief, that all of these lessons are important, even if we can’t tell exactly why.  And even if there is a missing piece, now and again, I believe that when it’s time to pass on, the final one will be revealed.  And then, the puzzle of each life will be solved and put away, ready for a new life to begin.

Some years ago, I can’t remember exactly when, I was in a class or a workshop.  One of the exercises that we were asked to think about had to do with writing your own obituary.  I don’t remember actually trying to do it, but  something came up recently that made me think of it again.  My husband said to me, that if I were to die before him that he wouldn’t know how he would ever be able to write my obituary.  I can’t remember exactly how he put it, but it was something that made me think that if I wanted it to be right, I had better do it myself.

Anyway, I was intrigued by this idea.  If one wants to be remembered, which I do, then one should write one’s own obituary when one is in good health.  It might be a good way to contemplate how other people see you and how you would like seen.  Then, if there is conflict between the two, steps could be taken to be that person you want to be.

Of course, in any obituary, there are the dates, names of family members, living and dead, circumstances and the places involved.  But those are just statistics.  The part we need to contemplate is what contributions a person has made.  The way in which a person lived and what they enjoyed doing, and the things they did in service to others are the things that matter.  I guess writing about these things in reference to oneself has to do with how one hopes to be remembered.  This is not an easy task.

I want to be remembered as being a fair person, not judgmental, and kind.  I want people to feel that I was a good friend and someone that could counted on to do what I said I was going to do.  I want my friends to think that I was fun to be with and that I had a good sense of humor. Most of all, I want people to remember me as someone who loved God and acted like it when dealing with others.  I want my family and friends to miss me, but only because I won’t be there in person.  I want memories of me to be happy, to be fond and funny.  Well, that’s a tall order.

Now, the most important thing to do, is to live that way, the way I want to be remembered. Whew!  I never thought it would be this hard.  But life IS hard.  And life is good, a gift, not to be lived carelessly, but thoughtfully and deliberately.  This is really an educational exercise. I know that it is teaching me something.  You just might find it worth your time to do it yourself!

Joy is a worthy pursuit.  Finding joy in this life, however, can be a challenge at times.  We are daily besieged by negative messages.  They are in the news on a constant basis.  I don’t know the percentage of a newspaper that has good news as opposed to bad, but it has to be very low.  I looked up articles and other information, including studies, and for a variety of reasons, people are drawn to bad news.  This could be part of the reason that joy is increasingly difficult to find.  Since news permeates our society, it is bound to have an effect on one’s search for happiness.  For this reason and others, joy can be elusive.  

So many things can make it difficult for a person to even begin such a quest.  But that makes it all the more necessary.  If we are always overwhelmed by the negative, the pursuit of joy can be wearisome.  The daily onslaught of bad news can hamper the best of us on our journey of bliss.

On a positive note, a search for joyous synonyms produced an abundance of them.  That’s very good news.  So, where should one look for joy?  Perhaps a good way to start would be to make a list of the things one likes to do.   It could be a hobby, trying new things, having a dog, doing community service, or any number of other things.  I guess if none of them move you, a more serious probe may be necessary.

Whatever we choose to do in this life, joy should be a part of it.  Even when one knows what makes them happy, life can get a person down.  That’s why it is important to find one’s joy.  Find it.  Name it. Claim it and schedule it into your life.  Otherwise, life will take you on a ride that is not of your making.  Make a choice.  Find your joy.

It is December again. It’s the 67th one of my life!  That doesn’t seem possible. And yet, no matter what is happening, time marches on.  One of my sayings, (yes I have them) is that time flies, even when you’re not having fun.  It’s been true for me, anyway.  Soon, we’ll be living in a new year, a clean slate, so to speak.  What are your hopes for the new year?  Do you have any?

What if we all started by being thankful for all the blessings we have now, in this very moment. We can think about the future or ruminate about the past, or, we can just be thankful.  We could be thankful for all the good things in our past and be glad we have a future to think about.  But most of all, a person can just be happy to be in this moment, reading a blog because one has the time to do it.  

We are able to do so many positive things in our minds and hearts.  Let’s do them.  Right now. Just be thankful for being.  Being is life.  Life is a gift.  A gift is for giving and for being enjoyed. We are free to think whatever we want, in spite of our circumstances.  We can choose the attitude with which we live our lives.

Holidays are times of great joy for some of us.  For others of us, they are filled with sadness.  If we are having moments of time with nothing to do, we can choose to do something for, or just be with, someone who is not as fortunate as we may be.

“Being there” is often the most profound gift one can give another person.  I have found that to be true both as giver and receiver.  One could find someone to be with.  There are people in nursing homes and other facilities that never have visitors.  It doesn’t matter if you know someone or not.  Being with a person who is lonely or neglected is no small thing.

The most important thing one can do is give.  Be a gift to someone.  There are things that each of us can do.  We are all unique and we are all necessary.  If you and I do what we are meant to
do for others, next year could be the best one yet!

Many years ago, my 2nd grade daughter, was eager to learn to ride a bike.  She was very independent and wanted to do it herself.  In the beginning, she was able to ride a few feet, and then, when she thought she might tip over, would veer off of the sidewalk into the grass and deliberately fall sideways.  It was her way of stopping.

She seemed to be perfectly fine with her own way of bike-riding.  We decided that she needed to have some guidance as this was not going to serve her very well as she got older.  And so the process of teaching her began.

My husband did what most parents do when teaching their children to ride a bike.  He ran next to her as she took off down the street, catching her before she went off the sidewalk into the grass.  It was hard work.  My husband was not crazy about running as exercise.  But of course he wanted to do this with his little girl.

So, day after day, they would practice up and down the block.  Finally it was decided that she and he would venture out of the neighborhood, to a nearby park.  This was really a good idea because the park had very wide sidewalks, more than twice the width of the ones in our neighborhood.

So off to the park we all went.  I walked behind them with my young son as she and her dad took off toward the park.  When we arrived, they were already moving at a faster pace as she zigzagged her way down the sidewalk.  

The pavement circled a building on the park property that had a recreation room and restrooms inside.  My husband and daughter were going around the building and she was riding in her usual way, veering off in different directions.

As she was making a second trip around the building, I was watching them in the distance.  She careened around the corner heading straight for the wall of the building.  I gasped, but just in the nick of time, huffing and puffing, my husband was able to catch up to her before she hit the brick wall.  Needless to say, he saved her from a disastrous accident.

As I was viewing all this, still a ways off, I overheard a couple walking several yards away from my son and me.  The woman said, “Look honey, the jogger just saved the little girl!”

It was hard to keep myself from laughing out loud at the thought of my husband being a jogger who just happened to be running by as she was ready to run into a brick building.  Her brother and I  caught up with the two of them and we made our way home together, walking the bike, of course.  They’d had enough practice for one day.

After we got home, I told my husband what the couple had said.  We looked at each other and laughed so hard at the thought of him being the heroic jogger.  Memories like this are part of the ties that bind.  They are the chapters of our lives that we keep in our hearts and minds.  And the ones like this story are put in the humor section of our family’s history book.