Thursday, December 11, 2014

One Hundred Happy Days- Day Five


Day 5- Food


A lot of my favorite memories center around a good meal. I'm sitting at the table as a child, pretending my broccoli are small trees and I'm a vegetarian giant that feasts on them. I'm making a Mc.Donald's or Chinese food stop as a middle schooler, feeling cool with my pocket change and a small order of fries. Getting a slice at the nearby pizzeria as a teenager, walking to the bus stop with my friends as I'm eating the gooey mozzarella.  Or as an adult I'm sitting in a restaurant with a good friend or multiple friends or my sisters, enjoying a delicious meal while laughing and talking and joking around. Or I'm exploring New York City and I come across a food truck that I feel bold enough to try. The result is pure bliss. I can honestly say that trying new foods is always a fun adventure. Sharing that adventure with family and friends make it even better. Sometimes I can just think of the food and smile. Granted I realize that the meal itself is only secondary to the positive experience I've had while eating it but it's a quick way to remember good times. It's also a way for me to remember how lucky I am, to have a childhood and adulthood filled with filling mealtimes. 

The amount of people in my city that go without a good meal is a truly sad reality. The amount of children that go hungry everyday is a fact that should never be. I'm so happy for the abundance of food in my house. I'm happy that I know if I'm hungry there's a meal always ready that I can get. Let's make this a reality for the less fortunate, for the elderly and for children. 

Here are some helpful resources:

wwwfeedingamerica.org

www.foodbanknyc.org

 

One Hundred Happy Days- Day Seven

Day Seven- The Ringing of Church Bells


I was waiting on a late bus earlier this night and standing out in the cold. My fingers were freezing and I was holding bags of groceries so I wasn't in the greatest of moods. As the minutes wore on, I became more annoyed. If I were wearing a mood ring it would be dark purple. I wanted to get home and drink some tea. I wanted to take a hot shower and relax. I sighed in frustration. Just then, I heard a beautiful sound. It was the melody of bells ringing. The sound was crystal clear in the night air. For a moment, I forgot about my frustrations for a moment. I listened to the music and turned to the sound. Across the street, a little church stood. The bells were coming from there. I tried to identify the songs but I couldn't. All I know is that it sounded so lovely and I couldn't help but smile. The chiming ended and the night was filled with the sounds of cars whizzing by once more. When the bus finally came, about five minutes later, I realized I wasn't frustrated anymore. I felt grateful for that little reprieve. It brought me a much needed moment of happiness. 

One Hundred Happy Days- Day Six


Day Six- Poetry

I remember middle school being a rush of classes and cliques, bullies and boredom. I remember it being a place where I felt I didn't fit in. I was quiet and smart (at least in my opinion). I read books not assigned by a teacher and listened to music that varied from standard Hip Hop and R&B. In other words, I was a weirdo. A weirdo with no voice. I discovered poetry in 7th grade English class. We were reading the words of Robert Frost. The poem was, "Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening". I felt the simple beauty of his words. I saw the imagery of snow falling gracefully in the woods. The quiet peace settling as night drew on was a powerful image for me. I loved it. I wanted more. 

Soon I began to read other poets. Langston Hughes and his beautiful, thoughtful pieces moved me. Edgar Allen Poe's dark words were perfect on a stormy night. Countee Cullen brought out the pain and beauty of being Black. Maya Angelou showed me how phenomenal it was to be a woman. Emily Dickinson's words stirred a gentle sadness and hope within me. Nikki Giovanni's poetry was pure unapologetic, power. And then I discovered Pablo Neruda and I knew I would forever fall into his words. Along this journey I had been writing my own words. I let my insecurities and loneliness go, choosing to allow it to fill the pages instead of my heart. I had found an outlet for all that I had been feeling. My words had strength. I'd read my poetry back to myself and see the image of a person I never knew existed. It amazed me, all the things I had been keeping inside. It was painful. It was fragile. It was beautiful. And somehow, all of that was me. 

To this day, when I read the poems I have written, I always feel this sense of surreality. This is me. And I am proud of that. No matter what emotion spurred my poetry, I always see beauty in it. That realization makes me incredibly happy. 

The image at the top of this blog post is a short poem I wrote called simply, "Night". It's one of my favorites. 

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

One Hundred Happy Days- Day Four

Walking on the Winter Beach


Yesterday I walked along Far Rockawy Beach before work. I was searching for peace and a quiet place to think. During this time of year there barely any people walking on the beach. Those that I happened to see here, were lost in thoughts of their own or hypnotized by the view. 

The ocean was a dark, turbulent wash of gray and green. Waves clung to the edges of the shore, blanketing in foaming blankets of white. The sky above was the color of steel. Everything was quiet. Silence settled upon me. It was the kind that made everything become still; the kind that eased the worries of the heart, lifting it then letting it sink to the bottom of the ocean's impenetrable depths. The kind that also allowed those worries to float away into the horizon. The silence resembled a kind of hope. We push our wishes into the unknown, praying that whatever comes brings us joy and blessings. We take those hopes and let them go, allowing them to sink or float. 

I watched the water and thought of my father. I remembered his silhouette by the shore at Coney Island as my little sister and I collected shells to paint. I asked his memory, "are there oceans where you are? Do you swim?" Looking at a piece of sea foam shatter in the air, I thought, "do you fly?" I let the silence cover me. I let my hopes float along the horizon and my tears fall until they became too cold to permit and I wiped them away. I watched the sea. A lone surfer braved the waves, his bright blue board a bright contrast to the mute day. 

I walked along the empty Boardwalk and felt lifted. Seagulls rose in the air above me, gliding and swooping with the currents of the wind. A flock of pigeons joined their flight, weaving past the seagulls.  Wings filled the sky.  My heart soared with them. I felt weightless. I felt lifted. I felt happy. 





Sunday, December 7, 2014

Day 2 and 3 of One Hundred Happy Days

Tea and Marsha 

When life gets a little too hectic for me I tend to resort to my usual comforts. A good book. A cozy bed. Music. Or in many instances, tea. Tea for me is a source of calm and happiness. It allows me to slow down for a moment and just enjoy the simple pleasure of drinking my favorite beverage. It's not a get up and go drink. It's a sit down and relax drink. It's a clear your mind drink. I love it. 


I remember as a kid, drinking tea in the morning. The routine was pretty consistent, no matter what I had for breakfast. It brings back memories of the way my father used to make my tea (milk and sugar, not too hot, not too cold). It brings back memories of my mom and sisters and brother. The smell of plantains frying and eggs scrambling. Dumplings with syrup and the promise of Saturday morning cartoons. It reminds me of a time in my life when I didn't have to worry about anything other than my homework. So it's only natural that I choose tea for day two of my 100 happy days challenge. 



Sunday, a good friend of mine celebrated her 29th birthday and I was lucky enough to share in the experience with her. Marsha and I have known each other since high school and ever since then we have remained good friends. Even when we were focused on separate paths in our lives, when we met up it felt as if nothing had changed. I truly believe that is what friendship is about. It's about being at such a level of comfort with someone that no matter how infrequently you may talk to each other or how far you live from one another, when you get together, you pick up where you left off. I'm truly blessed to have this wonderful woman as a friend. We celebrated her birthday with a lovely brunch followed by karaoke. I painted her a picture of the Eiffel Tower. I love this girl! 



Friday, December 5, 2014

One Hundred Days of Happiness

I want to be happy. That is the biggest desire in my life, to reach a place where in my existence where I can live In happiness. It feels like a hard goal to reach. So many things threaten to break my smile or darken my days. So many things leave me stressed and agitated and worried. At times it feels like I don't have the space in my world to be happy. Life takes over and the chaos can making living from day to day less about joy and more about survival. But even as I succumb to the routine of waking up, going to work and going to sleep, the thought of happiness still lingers in my mind. I subconsciously search for it, taking little moments of pleasure and trying to make it last for as long as it can. 

Recently, while searching the web I came across the hashtag #100happydays and I wanted to know the meaning behind it. I googled it and a website came up, 100happydays.com which explained that this was a personal challenge. This isn't a contest or some way to show off. It's you, showing gratitude for the things that bring you joy in your life and acknowledging that for 100 days. You do this by sharing a picture each day of something you are happy for. This challenge is supposed to help us find it easier to see the positives in our everyday stressful and chaotic lives. It's about making a conscious effort to find happiness and becoming aware of it. Even though I'm doing this on Instagram (search loloroxxx) I've decided to go into detail about my image choices on my blog and the reason it makes me happy. 

Day one: a note. 

First off I want to say that my older siblings have some amazing children. They are smart and sweet and beautiful and caring and I love them dearly. I don't see them nearly enough. This note was written when I went to visit my sister in Pennsylvania. My trips to PA are always a source of joy for me. I love seeing my nieces and nephew as they go through various stages in their lives, transforming from short, crawling cherubs that are quick to smile and hug me, to tall gorgeous individuals with interests and personalities unique to them. My sister's oldest child, a young girl who shares my love of books and writing wrote this for me because I wrote her an encouraging note. I wanted her to know that I believe in her and that I want her to never stop being herself. 

She handed the letter to me before I left and I hugged her and read it on the way back home and felt a warmth in my heart. Months passed by and I forgot about the note, replacing it instead with the thoughts of work. Then one day when cleaning out my bookcase I discovered in one of my favorite books (The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon) my niece's kind words. Her words were so simple. She had a great time with me and wanted me to come back soon. Already she missed me. That is the first thing I thought of today, when musing about what makes me happy. A thoughtful note from a loved one can shine some light on such a dreary day. It could make a bad day much better. It could remind us that we matter in the world and that our existence is not overlooked. This is exactly what my niece's note did for me. It reminded me that I am loved and thought of. That's definitely sometching to be happy about.


 

Monday, December 1, 2014

Transcendental Meditation

I want to focus more on my well-being. Most days I feel like a carpet constantly being stepped on, my fringes faded and tattered. I feel like a shadow of myself. I've been getting angered much more easily lately. My patience has been wearing thin. Usually my patience is what I admire most about myself. My ability to deal with frustrating things in a calm manner made me proud. But now, I can barely deal with the bus arriving five minutes late without feeling so stressed and angry that I develop a headache.

I realize that I can't be happy when my emotions are so out of whack and my fuse is so short. I realize that I can't be a better person if I'm on the verge of snapping at someone who cuts in front of me on a line or if I glare at a person trying to make smalltalk with me. That's not who I am. So it felt like a sign when I opened the newspaper one day and read a short article about Transcendental Meditation. Apparently Jerry Seinfeld does it.

I was intrigued. 

It seems easy enough to do, dedicate twenty minutes of my time twice a day to sitting with my eyes closed. And it could help with my insomnia and stress.  I feel like it wouldn't hurt to try it. So I will. Perhaps it will help me find a clearer path to a happier, personal state. Perhaps it will help me reclaim my joy, my peace. At the least it will provide me with twenty minutes of quiet. I'd like that very much.