30-Day Challenge- It's a 30 day challenge in which each day you are to write an honest letter to a different person. The challenge goes:

A Letter to …

Day 1 — Your best friend.
Day 2 — Your crush.
Day 3 — Your parents.
Day 4 — Your sibling (or closest relative)
Day 5 — Your dreams.
Day 6 — A stranger.
Day 7 — Your Ex-boyfriend/girlfriend/love/crush.
Day 8 — Your favorite internet friend.
Day 9 — Someone you wish you could meet.
Day 10 — Someone you don’t talk to as much as you’d like to.
Day 11 — A Deceased person you wish you could talk to.
Day 12 — The person you hate most/caused you a lot of pain.
Day 13 — Someone you wish could forgive you.
Day 14 — Someone you’ve drifted away from.
Day 15 — The person you miss the most.
Day 16 — Someone that’s not in your state/country.
Day 17 — Someone from your childhood.
Day 18 — The person that you wish you could be.
Day 19 — Someone that pesters your mind—good or bad.
Day 20 — The one that broke your heart the hardest.
Day 21 — Someone you judged by their first impression.
Day 22 — Someone you want to give a second chance to.
Day 23 — The last person you kissed.
Day 24 — The person that gave you your favorite memory.
Day 25 — The person you know that is going through the worst of times.
Day 26 — The last person you made a pinky promise to.
Day 27 — The friendliest person you knew for only one day.
Day 28 — Someone that changed your life.
Day 29 — The person that you want tell everything to, but too afraid to.
Day 30 — Your reflection in the mirror.

stolen from Becky's facebook status....

“Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.” ~ Arundhati Roy

Seasonal Lust wanted to know about my perfect morning...it starts like this...

Alarm goes off at 5:00, even though I won't finally throw back the comforter and step out of my white downy nest until at least 6:15. The waking hour, I call it, as I attempt to ponder the day and give thanks and regain consciousness. I tune in to whatever song my 15 year old radio alarm is playing; I play a little game wherein I imagine that whatever song is playing when I wake up has some significant meaning/message for my life. This morning - I'm not your blue sky anymore by someone named Emily. The birds are already chatting voraciously and I take a moment to be grateful for my small town existence, that I get to awaken to this chatter everyday. I feel light and thin as I glide down the stairs, running my hand along the worn wooden railing, once again wondering about who else's hand has run the same course, probably quite a few in this 105 year old house. Of course, perfect hair, a flowy skirt and trim top. And the children. One, two, three, they are up and bathed and pretty and freckle-faced. Fruit Loops, Sponge Bob and we're all off. Kisses, goodbyes, and don't forget your bookbag. Then for my 25 mile commute to school. Playing my music as loud as I want or not at all. Diet Mt. Dew and baggie of cereal. No stoplights, no traffic, just miles of brown and green hills - the soil like carpet, being prepared for planting. And the blues and whites of the sky. Raising a hand in greeting to the same vehicles I meet each day. Finally, to school. On time, even! Did I mention I felt light and thin? Perfect.

Let's discuss a metaphor. I was telling a friend about a lesson I'd presented to my students that had gone particularly well. It was exhilarating because, first off, I was prepared. The material I was presenting was all my own, not just a lesson borrowed from a book or from the internet. It was all me. Authentic. That alone made me more interested in presenting it. It included a variety of activities and got the kids involved. They were interested,listening, participating. Which fueled my energy level even more. I was, and this is key, paying attention. I wasn't behind my desk or grading papers or reading or thinking. I was engaged with life at the present moment, which happened to be a lesson on paraphrasing techniques. When finished, one boy commented that we should do this more often, it was fun. In my next section, same lesson, and the kids - seriously - clapped when I wrapped it up. So I was prepared, I had done the work needed to be successful, I gave it my energy and attention, and it was so satisfying. My friend made the connection between this situation and life itself. When we are authentic, prepared, excited, committed, we "will meet with a success unexpected in common hours."(Thoreau)

Exciting.

"and so she smiled..."

Because really, what better choice is there? The ending of every situation can be, "and so she smiled." It's a choice, and I would be willing to argue that it's the best choice. BUT it's not the choice I've been making lately. Instead I've opted for vengeful thinking, manipulation, indulgence in "I hate my job", and, worst of all, irritable mom syndrome. So I'm on a quest to get my smile back, as dorky and cliche as that may sound.

I read that a person's basic level of happiness doesn't change all that much throughout the course of a lifetime.... that we have kind of a set-point that modulates some, but not in the extreme. That's kind of a relief for me, because with the exception of the past year or so, I feel like my happiness set-point is above average. I've always been known as a happy, smiley person, one with a positive attitude, one that gives "warm fuzzies" to others, all that kind of stuff. I'm compassionate and aware of the pleasures of the simple things in life. So hopefully I've got a head start. Now, with that said, I've hit a pothole. This blog will not be an investigation of that damage. Because clearly discussing that with my friends, sisters, mom, pastor, therapist hasn't gotten me out of the hole.

Instead, I'm in the pursuit of happiness. So that when the time comes, whatever the situation, the appropriate ending will be, "and so she smiled."