In the Flow with Santa

Sometimes -- or often, honestly -- I possess no profound wisdom or witty piece of advice or Motivational Monday thoughts on a Thursday, but I can almost always recognize what brings me joy. And I understand the importance of being happy even for a moment.


Last week the iteration of my happiness was a trip to Target. At the time, I thought my life must truly lack meaning if the greatest thing that happens to me in a day is an afternoon Target run, but now, with a little distance from the moment, I assess the situation quite differently. Why can't a visit to a red and white box store whose canine symbol I've always found a bit odd and goofy (as he's supposed to be, probably) be a highlight? If wandering the aisles meditatively -- except for that moment when the screaming little boy in the frozen vegetable aisle reminded me of times I had to abandon my own cart and leave the store with an angry toddler in arms -- somehow brought me joy, why should I disparage the experience?


Because truly, life is too short to discount our need for happiness.


A few days ago, I encountered another joyful moment, one that might make most people cringe, especially a girlfriend whose eyes would be rolling out of their sockets if I told her this story, but that brought me even more happiness than the Target run. Because I love Christmas. And I love Home Depot. So when I walked into Home Depot to buy a space heater (not yet in stock because Californians don't generally need artificial heat in mid-October) and was greeted by rows of illuminated faux Christmas trees and racks of wreaths and plastic snowmen and singing elves, I unwittingly smiled. My morning had been transformed (by commercialism, I know, but whatever). I was so happy I could practically smell the fake fir. I almost burst into the chorus of Here Comes Santa Clause between the  house plants and cleaning supplies. I did wonder, however, where exactly the Halloween decorations were, assuming they had been relegated to a dark, not to say spooky, corner of the store if not completely removed to leave room for the promotion of a day that wouldn't actually be celebrated for over 8 weeks. But this lack or oversight or purposeful marketing ploy didn’t bother me. Because I'll take jingle bells over tricks and treats any day. Bells make me happy.


Some people call it flow and some call it appreciation. I call it the miracle of life -- not be confused with birth or anything. Can't every moment be considered a miracle, really?

So this morning, as I prepare for a road trip to LA where I'll spectate my favorite sport, applaud my son's water polo team for their dedication, athleticism and hard work, and catch up with a close friend from college, I think life is truly good. And so is Target. And so is Christmas in October. And so are moisturizer and Pentatonix and orange Tic Tacs, but I'll save those for another post. This one is all about bringing joy to the world.


Comments

  1. Everyday is joy. So much to always be thankful for. Everyday we are here is miracle because when you think it about everything that has to happen in our bodies every moment to keep us alive is a miracle. Enjoy your road trip. Safe travels, Enjoy your visit and water polo game.

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    Replies
    1. Thanks, Ramona! So true.
      I think my next post will have to be about karaoke and the miracle of friendship. :)

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    2. karaoke, friendship and thank goodness for happy hour! ;)

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