“Happiness is the art of never holding in your mind the memory of any unpleasant thing that has passed.”
We have often talked about choosing to be happy and sometimes I am told that it is easier said than done. I do know that is true but I think much of the reason is that we become so focused on the problem at hand that it becomes difficult to put things in perspective.
Recently I stumbled across an article written by Herbert Lui that I think has real merit. If nothing else visiting our own happiness folder should help us put our troubles into perspective. Here in part is what he wrote:
Create Your Own ‘Happiness Folder’
Treat yourself mentally. Create a Happiness Folder. The folder can contain anything that helps you rehearse the memories that you need to become happier in the long-term. This ranges for everyone, but could include:
- Memories that make you more confident prior to a nerve-racking meeting. (e.g., Journal entries or photos of your “trophies” or “war stories” — e.g., your first sale closed, your first bottle of champagne after your sale closed, memories of good friends — who will be there even if you mess up this meeting.)
- Or a folder that reminds you that you’re not a terrible artist. (e.g., An encouraging Dribbble comment or Tweet. Your first exhibit. Your first acceptance into a contest. Your first sale, perhaps.)
- Or a folder that kicks you in the ass when you’re feeling a bit lazy. (e.g., A list of 2015’s new year’s resolutions, childhood goals, a photo of your family, a photo of your younger self, a photo of your heroes, pump-up music.)
These cues remind me of the times I felt on top of the world — and hopefully help me find a pattern between them, so I can understand myself better. But they’re also a sight for sore eyes on particularly gloomy days or when I’m about to attempt something out of my comfort zone. A lot of us are our own worst critics — and the Happiness Folder serves as a way to balance that out a little bit.
In a worst-case scenario, you’ll have a hotbed of creativity to draw from. Life won’t seem to pass by as fast, because you’re making more marks along the journey. But you may find your ability to cheer yourself up a lot more powerful with this resource.
Admittedly, the Happiness Folder still sounds like a bit of an indulgence. It’s a warm, fuzzy, folder. It is the caring friend that gives you a nudge in the right direction.
“There is only one way to happiness and that is to cease worrying about things which are beyond the power of our will.”
Harry came into the office an hour late for the third time in a week. “What’s the story this time, Harry?” his boss asked sarcastically. “Let’s hear a good excuse for a change.”
Harry sighed, “Everything went wrong this morning, boss. The wife decided to drive me to the station. She got ready in ten minutes but then the drawbridge got stuck. I swam across the river — see? My suit’s still damp — ran out to the airport, got a ride on Mr. Trump’s helicopter, landed on top of Radio City Music Hall, and was carried here piggyback by one of the Rockettes.”
“You’ll have to do better than that, Harry,” said the boss. “No woman can get ready in ten minutes!”
Your secrets are safe with me and all my friends …. None of us can remember anything.
A row of bottles on my shelf
Caused me to analyze myself.
One yellow pill I have to pop
Goes to my heart so it won’t stop.
A little white one that I take
Goes to my hands so they won’t shake.
The blue ones that I use a lot
Tell me I’m happy when I’m not.
The purple pill goes to my brain
And tells me that I have no pain.
The capsules tell me not to wheeze
Or cough or choke or even sneeze.
The red ones, smallest of them all
Go to my blood so I won’t fall.
The orange ones, very big and bright
Prevent my leg cramps in the night.
Such an array of brilliant pills
Helping to cure all kinds of ills.
But what I’d really like to know………..
Is what tells each one where to go!
“Camping is nature’s way of promoting the motel business.”
Two men sank into adjacent train seats after a long day in the city. One asked the other, “Your son go back to college yet?”
“Two days ago.”
“H-m-m. Mine’s a senior this year, so it’s almost over. In May, he’ll be an engineer. What’s your boy going to be when he gets out of college?”
“At the rate he’s going, I’d say he’ll be about thirty.”
“No, I mean what’s he taking in college?”
“He’s taking every penny I make.”
“Doesn’t he burn the midnight oil enough?”
“He doesn’t get in early enough to burn the midnight oil.”
“Well, has sending him to college done anything at all?”
“Sure has! It’s totally cured his mother of bragging about him!”
“There is space on everyone’s bookshelves for books one has outgrown but cannot give away. They hold one’s youth between their leaves, like flowers pressed on a half-forgotten summer’s day.”
Marion C. Garretty
He said: As a traffic safety consultant, I often gave talks to organizations on accident prevention. One night after I spoke to a PTA group, the program chairperson thanked me profusely and gave me a check for fifty dollars.
“Giving these presentations is part of my job,” I said. “Could I donate the money to one of your causes?”
“That would be wonderful,” she gushed. “We have just the program that could use it. We’re trying to raise money so we can afford better speakers.”
“Don’t rely on someone else for your happiness and self-worth. Only you can be responsible for that. If you can’t love and respect yourself – no one else will be able to make that happen. Accept who you are – completely; the good and the bad – and make changes as YOU see fit – not because you think someone else wants you to be different.”
Stay well, do good work, and have fun.
Management is not responsible for duplicates from previous dailies. The editor is somewhat senile.
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