One thing I know about happiness is that it comes from the narrative of our life. The story we tell ourselves. But too often, we let others write that story for us. Unhappiness and discontent inevitably follow. The only person who can write the story of your life properly is you. In order to change our narrative to an authentic one, one we write ourselves, we must change our perspective, and thus our perceptions of our world. This is not a new idea. Plato explained it in “Allegory of the Cave” over 2,300 years ago. A small change in perception can mean a huge change in what we see. And changing how we see lets us write a new narrative. The Dalai Lama also explores this idea of the relationship between perception and a good life in his book The Art of Happiness (99¢ in the remainder bin . . . maybe you can buy happiness after all!).
Let me start out by saying that I don’t have an ideological dog in the race for who will become our next president. Exhibit A is that I was a strong McCain supporter in 2000 and a rabid Rand Paul backer this year. But unlike so many people who argue about politics today, my first […]
I have always been good at spotting trends. Growing up with crazy parents, I learned to recognize the warning signs when either of them was about to engage in irrational behavior. It was a survival skill. That skill carried over into the rest of my life. For example, back in the late Eighties and early
Trump Is Why I Quit the Republican Party Read More »
Sister Mary Theresa was an imposing figure of a woman. She would have been even without the penguin suit. Although I couldn’t imagine her without it. She was a giant to me, the shortest kid in class. But, in fairness, she was taller than Father Michael as well and stout enough to fill up most
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Most Liberals are not publicly admitting relief at Anton Scalia’s death because they don’t want to appear unseemly. The Conservatives who are happy about his passing, and there are more than the popular narrative will admit, won’t fess up either for fear of being labeled a RHINO. Since I don’t care about labels, I’ll come
On Scalia’s Passing Read More »
Go north, dad,” my son told me over the phone. “How am I supposed to know which way is north?” I asked him. It was snowing hard in Greeley so I couldn’t see the mountains to orient myself. “Just turn left at the next intersection,” he assured me. I was lost in Greeley in my
Oh Siri, Where Art Me? Read More »
“Whassat, daddy?” I held up one of the items I had dumped out of my spare parts box onto my workbench. “This?” I asked. My three-year-old nodded. “It’s a plug in jack for headphones.” “Can I see?” “Sure,” I said. I handed Michael the box. It was made of scrap wood from the cabinet shop
Parenting 101: Whassat? Read More »