Intentional Joy: Cultivating powerful choices

by Susan Tate

"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." This famous line from Shakespeare’s Hamlet presents the idea that we can choose our thoughts. Although one might easily argue that some things really ARE bad, the idea that we can put our own spin on our thoughts is quite powerful. We can use that power to create intentional joy or distressing moments.

Here’s a beautiful example. My son, Zack, is an amazing musician. (Written like a proud mom, I admit.) Recently when he was playing at an outdoor venue, a five-year-old girl came up to him and asked, “What makes the music sound so beautiful?” Zack tenderly replied, “You do.”

That’s it! That’s the secret to creating a joyful life! What makes anything appear to be good or bad, beautiful or ugly, distressing or joyful? YOU DO! We have the power to choose our thoughts!

We have over 60,000 thoughts a day and many of them are the same as the day before! It has become increasingly clear to me that how we think has a huge impact on our everyday happiness. We get to cultivate powerful choices or, by default, let the old tapes of disempowerment or victim-hood play over and over in our head. And sometimes our brains get so depleted of serotonin and dopamine because of chronic or steady stressors, that medical support is needed. “Thinking happy thoughts” would be too simplistic a remedy in these cases.

This holiday season was a gigantic practice session for my thinking. Did you have any opportunities to practice?

I have just returned from two weeks on the east coast where the record-breaking December snowstorm became my wildly unpredictable travel agent. After spending four days in the Toronto area, I awakened the morning of December 20 and attempted to print my boarding passes for flights from Buffalo to Charlottesville (by way of Philadelphia). Imagine my surprise when I discovered both airports were closed due to heavy snow! I was anxious to see my children, grandchildren and friends there, but for some reason I remained calm. I was immediately aware that I only had control of my thoughts, not the airports or the weather.

The next ten days provided me with numerous opportunities to either get really upset, angry and frustrated—or to choose thoughts that would redirect that unpleasant energy into joyful thoughts. So many unpredictable things happened that it almost became a game in my head. I became an “observette” to my thoughts and surroundings, more than ever before. I only came close to losing it twice—out of a dozen great opportunities to do so.

The first time I almost lost it was the morning of December 21. I had been standing in line for three hours at the Charlotte airport in North Carolina, where they were dealing with thousands of stranded travelers from the weekend storm. (I had been re-routed there the day before since I couldn’t fly into Charlottesville, Virginia. It actually turned out to be a great blessing since I was able to be with my younger sister on her birthday!)

But, getting back to why I was about to fall into a heap on the airport floor . . . I was tired, hungry and had to go to the bathroom—not a pretty trio of needs to have while confined in an airport line! At some point I realized I was going to miss the morning flight because of the chaos surrounding me, and I did. It was now 10 a.m. and I was re-booked on a 10 p.m. flight and given standby boarding passes for three overbooked flights to attempt to get on during the day. It took me longer than a few minutes to switch my distressed thoughts to joy and I have forgiven myself for the unkind thoughts that I was really, really trying hard not to direct toward any airline employee. They had had a tough weekend. Plus, several of my family members work for the airlines . . .

I met people who had missed funerals, weddings and cruises. I was greatly missing precious moments with my children and grandchildren. It seemed others had more reasons to get upset than I did. The observation of thoughts continued. I eventually landed in snow-bound Charlottesville.

The other time I lost it was my last day in Virginia. We had just pulled my two suitcases on a sled about one-third of a mile down the drive in order to reach my friend’s car. Phyllis’ long driveway was still icy and she couldn’t park close to her house. I fell twice (head first) and the sled tipped over several times. Amazingly, I didn’t lose it then. I kept laughing and wishing I had a camera. (Note: I had had a blast pulling the suitcases on the sled down the mile-long driveway nine days earlier, three days after an unexpected stay at the Holiday Inn due to the two feet of white stuff in a land of little snow plowing!)

No, I lost it after we loaded the luggage into the car and I was about a half mile from where the driveway connected with the road. I lost it when the car slowly, uncontrollably and gracefully slid off the icy drive and turned sideways to become lodged in the field of snow. The car remained stuck there for days, as the Blue Ridge Mountains reflected its beauty off the windshield. I said the four-letter word for “poop” out loud and spent about ten seconds (or was it 10 minutes?) in panic and frustration. I was about to miss my plane and I really, really was ready to get home. Then I chose, really consciously chose, to change my thinking. My thought turned from frustration to a calm, “Hmm, I wonder what’s going to happen next?” Things were clearly out of my control and I could go with the flow (in the snow) or fight and struggle and be quite miserable. I decided to intentionally seek joy.

While Phyllis scurried back to her house to call a neighbor to help dig us out, I dragged one of my bags up closer to the road and prayed for the little patch of cell phone reception that I can sometimes get on a clear day. Success! I was able to reach my son who lives thirty minutes away. Zack sped to my rescue and arrived (sped being the key word here) twenty minutes later. It seemed God wanted me to have my son take me to the airport that day and I was beyond grateful that I didn’t miss my flight. It was another lesson in choosing thoughts to be open to something better, and to wait for the miracle that could occur.

After arriving safely at the quaint Charlottesville airport, the ticket agent asked how my day was going so far. I refrained from hysterical laughter and instead gave a brief account of the trip with its many detours and delays. I then asked her if, by chance, there were any first class seats available on my connecting flight out of Charlotte for my five and a half hour flight back to Seattle. At this point, I was ready to pay for comfort and ease! She put me on the standby list for first class and told me if they did have a seat open up, I wouldn’t have to pay! A seat didn’t appear but the thought that she tried almost negated the three-hour wait in line I’d experienced at the Charlotte airport the week earlier.

Here are three tips to support you in choosing intentional joy:

1. Stop and breathe.  Feel what you are feeling and then take another deep breath. (You can even say “poop” if you have to!).

2. Observe what comes next as you take positive steps to make something different happen. Choose a thought that makes you feel better than you do right now. (Even if it’s just a little bit better!)
   
   
3. Be grateful. Look for and revel in the miracles that follow.