Several years ago, my husband and I were engaged in a heated conversation when he turned to me and said, "Dayle, you are one big grouch!"
After my initial shock, I realized his words rang true. Somewhere along the way I had lost my zest and joy for living. I was, indeed, one big grouch.
Following a season of intense self-examination, I identified several areas of my life that needed serious tweaking—all within my power to change.
Here are five things that helped me get my joy back:
1. Be cheerful.
Being cheerful is a choice. We can’t always be happy, but we can always be cheerful.
Susan is the most cheerful person I know. I recall one winter evening, after dining out with a group of friends, she realized her keys were locked in her car. She wasn’t happy about it, but she remained cheerful throughout the hour-long attempt to get the car open. She laughed. She made me laugh. She sang silly songs. She danced in the parking lot to stay warm. And when at last she drove away, she honked and smiled, as if nothing ever happened.
In the late 1800's, William James was the dean of American psychologists. James battled serious depression and after years of studying his actions and reactions, he came to a conclusion. "By regulating the action,” he wrote, “we can indirectly regulate the feeling.” He went on to say that if you don’t feel cheerful, you should act cheerful and before long, the feeling will follow.
When I decided I didn’t want a tombstone that read: “Here lies a sourpuss,” I put James’s theory into practice and found it not only works, but, with enough practice, cheerfulness can become second nature. Try it. The world will thank you.
2. Seek out silence.
We need silence. In silence we can think for ourselves, instead of just parroting the opinions we hear around us. We can dream, and devise a plan for fulfilling our dreams.
Silence also puts us in tune with nature, helping us see those often missed gems—strips of yellow sunlight wrapping around a porch, the elaborate pattern of a leaf, a full moon's path across a lake, billowy clouds sailing against an azure sky.
In silence we can hear healing sounds—the mellifluous song of a bird, a gentle wind whispering through trees, the scampering of a squirrel across the ground, the voice of God.
When you stop covering the silence in your world, you’ll be amazed at the pleasures that are there, just for the taking.
3. Write about past hurts, then let them go.
When I was in counseling many years ago, my therapist asked me to go home and write about a painful incident that had occurred years earlier. She asked me to describe, in detail, the place, time of day, the clothes I wore, the emotions that surfaced—all of it—during that distressing event.
It was an excruciating task, requiring all of the courage I could muster. I cried. I hit the notepad with my fists. But when the words lay quiet in front of me, there came a moment of certain release. And peace.
I suppose you could say that writing about painful events is, in a curious way, one’s private therapy, a conversation with oneself, a way to identify feelings and thoughts that otherwise might be left like unturned stones upon our souls, heavy and oppressive.
Today, whenever I’m feeling wounded, I open up a journal and write.
4. Reach out and touch someone.
Much of life is spent obsessing about ourselves and our possessions. But after taking some time to volunteer and mentor, I’m convinced that true happiness comes whenever we reach out and touch another person’s life. It can be as simple as saying “hello,” or as substantial as helping build a house.
Something therapeutic occurs when you help others. Instead of thinking about your own maladies, you feel at peace. Happy. Content. Thankful.
The great humanitarian Albert Schweitzer said, “I do not know what your destiny will be, but one thing I know: The only ones among you who will be really happy are those who will have sought and found how to serve.”
5. Open the door to God.
Nothing is as depressing as feeling like you’re alone in the world. Believing that someone walks beside you, that prayers are heard, that you are loved, that death isn’t final, can be so uplifting, especially in difficult times.
Try creating a special place in your home for praying or meditating. Include a comfortable chair, a small table for holding books or a beverage, a reading lamp, and a light blanket. My faith in God is the nucleus of my joy, and when I take time to pray and meditate, my mind is free of the day’s worries.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This article first appeared in The Dallas Morning News. All rights reserved.