I have recently experienced the nasty, dreaded flu. It
started at the end of January and was a little past full bloom on the first
Tuesday of February when my “Spark Your Happy” workshop meets. Teaching that
workshop really does spark my happy place. I didn’t want to miss it. We only
meet once a month. Even though I felt terrible, I knew I could pull myself
together for a few hours. I rationalized that if I kept my distance so as not
to infect others and only presented part of my material, I could make it at
least half way through the three-hour program.
I drove 50 minutes to the Sun City Library in Menifee,
lifted my wheeled cart from the back of the SUV, and walked in. One of the participants,
who also is a friend of mine, looked at me and before I even set my stuff down,
she said, “My God, she’s got it.” Evidently, this bug was no stranger to the
few people assembled there. It had been making the rounds in the library.
Shirley, the adult programs director, sent me home.
Once I started to feel better, I began taking my walks
again. Flu didn’t like that and returned with a vengeance. Somewhere in the
nooks and folds of my mind—you know, that Inner Voice thing—I heard, “Bev. You still
need to rest. Don’t rush it.” But, you see, I didn’t want to listen to my Voice
as it did not correspond with my plan. My plan included increasing my walking
minutes from 20 or 30 minutes to 40 or 60. We are getting ready to go to Italy this
spring, and I know I need to be in shape to walk up stairs, walk miles through
museums and churches, not to mention eating what I understand is the best food
available on earth.
Yet, by not listening to my Voice, I found myself once again
in bed snuggled under sheets, blankets and two comforters because I couldn’t
get warm. I am a voracious reader, so I piled books on my nightstand, after
all, if I was going to be sick, I might as well catch up on my reading. But the
novels became more indistinct as mounds of snotty Kleenex grew and surrounded
them.
Two rounds of antibiotics, numerous homeopathic remedies,
Neti Pot rinses, and quarts of tea made with apple cider vinegar and raw honey,
plus with the passage of an entire month, I finally feel as though I have
licked this illness. While I’m still not functioning at 100%, at least I have a
little bit of energy to visit friends, complete our income taxes, take my
mother to lunch, and do some writing.
So, how does this relate to happiness? Well, sugar biscuits.
Surely you can understand how delighted I am to feel healthy once again. I also
feel more empathy for those people suffering long-term critical illnesses. With
new awareness, and even though they are strangers, adding healing prayers for
critically ill people gives me a sense of peace.
When we reach out to all of humanity with compassion, we
somehow deposit a little bit of contentment, healing, and peace into our own
vessels of happiness. Try it. Together, we can make the world a better place.
