Living Happiness

When I was small, I had people I looked up to and personalities that I admired. Some of these were real people, like Judy Garland and Katherine Hepburn, and some of these were not: Nancy Drew, Anne of Green Gables. I was drawn to the strength in all of these women, their smarts, their humor, and their femininity (yes, even for Katherine Hepburn). I could watch their films or read of them in books and imagine myself too on the road to Oz or bringing up Baby, solving one of dad’s mysteries, or whiling away my hours reciting poetry on Prince Edward Island. If these women did one thing that might be considered heroic, it’s that they captured my imagination. These women, real or fictional, were part of my life. I identified with them, aligned myself with them, hoped to become like them. In a word (or four), they were my heroes. And isn’t this what heroes do? They capture our minds and hearts and, without being aware, prompt us to better ourselves. Or, sometimes even, be better than ourselves.

What then are the characteristics of a hero? Does one have to be brave, valiant, smart, good-looking, superhuman, ultra-human, extraordinary? What are the qualities that a hero has that draw us to him or her in such a powerful way? The answer is most likely different for everybody – as different, as unique as our fingerprints.

But Ralph Waldo Emerson says something truly wonderful that I think fits the bill:

One thing that seems to be universal is the belief that heroes are in some way brave, a head above the rest when it comes to being valiant. And for that, I have to wonder, “Might not this bravery be seen in more arenas than just the battle field? Might not bravery also be a fearless living of one’s life?” Ayn Rand seemed to think so:

It’s yours. The world that you want, the land of your dreams, is possible if you believe in it. Gird yourself up for it, fight for it, and go after it.

My childhood heroes, in their own ways, did the same. They challenged conventions, were strong in a sea of weakness, were unique and shining stars in a room full of window lamps. They were who they were. And isn’t this how it perhaps should be for us, too?

One of my favorite quotes is actually from one of these early heroines of mine, Judy Garland. She says this:

We often try to emulate our heroes, to take on the characteristics and traits we believe have brought them success. But as we do so, I think it would be wise to be mindful of dame Judy’s wisdom. It’s okay to strive for a life filled with noble virtues so long as these virtues are our own, wearing our own clothes. Be who you are, in other words. There is only one you.

I welcome your thoughts today.

Receive Living Happiness in Your Reader or via Email

or follow Living Happiness on Facebook.

Photo Credit: flickrphoto by Bella ,.

“So, what is Greece like?” This is the question I am most often asked when I hear from friends and family back home after eons of separation, and my first thought is always, “How do I even begin to answer that question?” I sift through my brain for an honest reply that will answer the question succinctly but not seem dismissive. It is hard, but I am lucky, because I do have an answer ….

Three years ago, when I had been in Greece only a few months, I found myself hanging out with some Greek Americans who, for various reasons, had found themselves living not in their place of birth but back in the country of their forefathers and mothers. We were talking about this question, and the best answer I heard – and have yet to hear – was this, “Life in Greece is not easy but it is simple.” Simple. Not Easy. What does this mean?

It occurs to me that a lot of the things that keep my life simple here are my lack of things. I don’t have a car, a dishwasher, a microwave, a Tivo, a DVR, an iPhone, a Blackberry, or a digital planner. But I do have an abundance of a lot of other things: time, beautiful sunsets, nature all around me, good friends, good food. Sure, it would be nice to have some of the things I just mentioned that make used to make my life more convenient. But is more convenient always better? I’ve begun to have my doubts.

It dawned on me in the wee morning hours, as this post was swimming around in my brain, that sometimes it is what we lack that is the source of our abundance. So in today’s post, I thought I’d share with you a short list of some of the things I don’t have, followed by some suggestions for what you yourself might be able to do to eliminate “stuff.” It’ll be our little experiment in happiness and abundance making. Would you like to give it a go?

Four Things I Don’t Have That Make My Life More Abundant:

1. An iPhone, Blackberry, Palm Pilot, digital planner, or anything that remotely allows me to be remotely connected to anyone, at any time of the day, from any place in the world. I have a mobile phone only. I call people. I text people. They call me. They text me. When we want to meet up for a coffee, we do. Sometimes we don’t even have to arrange it in advance! *GASP* The nice thing about mobile phones, too? I can turn mine off. And I do!
2. Kitchen gadgets. I have no microwave, dishwasher, food processor, coffee pot, or mixer. I have instead the following: a stove, my own two hands, really sharp knives, a kettle, and wooden spoons, respectively. And I have discovered two BIG things in regard to these noticeable gadget absences. First, a lot of meals really can be cooked just as fast on the stove. I’m not kidding! It’s true! And second, these gadgets really aren’t necessary to make darn good food. If you don’t believe me, ask my husband, G, who goes on and on and on about my cakes and cupcakes … made with WOODEN SPOONS in a big glass bowl! A little elbow grease never hurt anybody. This also holds true with the whole washing dishes thing … which is saying a lot because I hate despise washing dishes.
3. HDTV, satellite, Tivo, DVR, or any other television-related item that allows me to watch five million channels and/or record five million shows. Instead I have Greek television, sprinkled with the occasional English language show or film. If I happen to miss it (the English language treat), I’m screwed. There is no recording it for future viewing (not that I would want to most of the time anyway. Steven Segal? Again?). So what do I do with all this time on my hands and nothing to watch on telly? Well, I read. Books. Real ones. With pages. And sometimes my husband does, too. And (drum roll please) sometimes we even read to each other!!! We also play games, like Texas Hold ‘Em for instance, to see who gets the household chores for the week. (Dishes are always up for grabs, by the way.) We go out for coffees. We putter in the garden. And, if all that fails, we talk. In a conversation. With words. Sometimes we even laugh.
4. 24-hour anything. When I was in the States, within the one-block radius of my house I had three 24-hour gas stations, two 24-hour supermarkets, two 24-hour pharmacies, a 24-hour Wendy’s, and a 24-hour photocopy place. It was convenient and easy. In the off chance that I needed a pint of Ben & Jerry’s cookie dough ice cream at 3:00 in the morning or an oil change at midnight, I could have them. Both maybe. Maybe even on the same night. I do not have this luxury in Greece, and believe me, it took me a while to get used to it. Here, everything closes on Saturday afternoon at 2:00 and doesn’t open again until Monday morning. And on two nights of the week – Monday and Wednesday – nothing is open either. Talk about not convenient! However, what this has meant is that G and I have learned to plan our shopping and prepare for our wants and needs in advance. What his has also meant is that Sunday finally has been restored to its rightful place in our lives as a day of rest. It is hard to get up and get moving when everything is closed down. The only places that are open are the cafes and restaurants, so you are practically forced to just be still … and have a good meal while you’re at it. The silence of Sunday permeates the city – no buses, no mopeds, no busy machines building, or hustle and bustle. Sunday has quickly become our favorite day of the week.

Four Ways That You Can Simplify:

1. Disconnect. Turn off your Blackberry, your iPhone. Leave the computer for a day. Refrain from tweeting. Forget about updating. Instead, call a friend (don’t text them) and go for a coffee, a meal, a chat. Do it without consulting your calendar. Do something spur of the moment. Be in the moment. Enjoy the present reality of what’s before you.
2. Go basic. Cook a meal from scratch, with fresh ingredients. Do as much as you can by hand. Feel flour and salt and butter between your fingers. Run your hands over a plate under hot running water. Listen to a kettle as it bobbles and whistles. Then savor what you’ve done.
3. Tune out. The hours you spend in front of the tube are wasted hours. They do not produce anything, and they do not activate your mind. Read a book. Play a game with your spouse, with your children. Go outside. Talk to one another. Laugh. Sing. Garden. Paint. Do whatever brings you joy. But whatever it is: entertain yourself. Don’t fall victim to letting something else entertain you: going to see a film is not entertaining yourself.
4. Stop. Set aside one day that you will not shop, work, do chores, or run errands. Even if this means that you have to place these tasks on other days leading up to (or after) this shabbas. This is what we (G and I) must do too. But it is worth it. You will give yourself a whole day of care-free, worry-free time. What will you do with that time? Well, it’s up to you. But for centuries, the idea of a Sabbath has been that it’s a day to rest and enjoy what your work has produced: sleep, nap, eat, drink, make love, laugh, read. Do nothing on this day out of obligation or guilt. Do whatever brings you joy.

I leave you today with these observations and with this challenge, I would love to hear from you on what you discover and what you think about the above.

I look forward to hearing from you,

Flickr photo credits in order of appearance: gogostevie, citywiderodeo, Cristian Montes, and hn..