Thoughts do count. I'm not referring to gift-giving and, "It's the thought that counts," nor do I intend this as a reference to or criticism of those with obsessive-compulsive thoughts.
Using "my" and "I" here will, I hope, show that I'm drawing upon my own well-documented experiences relating to how my thoughts can and do change my entire outlook, which in turn determines how my day unfolds. This is personal, this is what works for me. Try it. You may find you like it!
~Albert Einstein
A woman who always presented a happy face to the world, no matter what happened, a man who sported a glum look most of the time, created a daughter who grew to adulthood wondering at her mother's bright and jolly and not understanding the reasons for such dour expressions on the father's face. How should she present herself to the world? Which way to be?
The world as we have created it is a process of our thinking.
It cannot be changed without changing our thinking.
In all family photos taken of me from around ages seven to 15 there's a look of gloom on my face; hardly ever a trace of a smile. Why?
My parents were good providers of food and clothing, of a comfortable home and plenty of outdoor adventures. If asked, I'm sure I would have said I knew I my mother and father loved me.
Mom's mantra was "Smile, you'll feel better!" My usual, non-verbal response was simply more glowering. I eventually perfected the art of acting happy and content around others. Inside I was confused, angry, afraid, wary, and unsure of myself. I was faking it for everyone else. Years later I realized that subterfuge had lasting and detrimental effects on me and on my loved ones.
Move forward three decades. I'm 45 years old, life has taken some odd and
unsettling turns. I'm not handling "things" well at all. One morning, after a tossing, turning, sleepless night, I sat on the edge of my bed, shook my head and said, aloud, to no one and without much enthusiasm, "This is a good day."
I don't know why I said that, but I think I was probably at the end of some kind of mental "rope." This phrase seemed to insinuate itself into my psyche and for the first time in a long time, I knew I wasn't pretending. I truly felt the positive thought.
When the morning commute backed up and there was a very real possibility I would be quite late to work, "This is a good day," thrummed across my mind. When the green traffic signal changed to red just as I approached, I decided to breathe deep, smile just a bit and think: it's okay, all is working out just fine. It did, and for some reason, I wasn't surprised.
That phrase, "This is a good day," buoyed me throughout the day; put a smile on my face; helped me see things more clearly; allowed me to focus and feel better, mentally and physically.
Does this sound way too corny? Does it sound like Pollyanna worked her way into my psyche when I wasn't looking? Okay, maybe.
However, over the next three decades, right up to this moment, with life tossing more of those unexpected, hard to understand, often tough to navigate bumps, I continue to begin each day with, "This is a good day."
I am living proof that the thought does count. How and what I choose to think about each aspect or occurrence of my life insinuates itself into every fiber of my being.
Try it. "This is a good day," versus "What a crappy day." "Everything's working out just fine," versus "Damn, nothing is going right today."
Be well. Take care. Smile!
Move forward three decades. I'm 45 years old, life has taken some odd and
unsettling turns. I'm not handling "things" well at all. One morning, after a tossing, turning, sleepless night, I sat on the edge of my bed, shook my head and said, aloud, to no one and without much enthusiasm, "This is a good day."
I don't know why I said that, but I think I was probably at the end of some kind of mental "rope." This phrase seemed to insinuate itself into my psyche and for the first time in a long time, I knew I wasn't pretending. I truly felt the positive thought.
When the morning commute backed up and there was a very real possibility I would be quite late to work, "This is a good day," thrummed across my mind. When the green traffic signal changed to red just as I approached, I decided to breathe deep, smile just a bit and think: it's okay, all is working out just fine. It did, and for some reason, I wasn't surprised.
That phrase, "This is a good day," buoyed me throughout the day; put a smile on my face; helped me see things more clearly; allowed me to focus and feel better, mentally and physically.
Does this sound way too corny? Does it sound like Pollyanna worked her way into my psyche when I wasn't looking? Okay, maybe.
However, over the next three decades, right up to this moment, with life tossing more of those unexpected, hard to understand, often tough to navigate bumps, I continue to begin each day with, "This is a good day."
Your disposition will be suitable to that which you most
frequently think on; for the soul is, as it were, tinged with
the color and complexion of its own thoughts.
~Marcus Anotonius
I am living proof that the thought does count. How and what I choose to think about each aspect or occurrence of my life insinuates itself into every fiber of my being.
Try it. "This is a good day," versus "What a crappy day." "Everything's working out just fine," versus "Damn, nothing is going right today."
Be well. Take care. Smile!
Wikimedia Commons; Mr. Pipo thoughts.svg
No comments:
Post a Comment