Worthy Read #2: "10% Happier" by Dan Harris

Last spring my friend J, with whom I went on retreat, first lent me the book "10% Happier: How I Tamed the Voice in my Head, Reduced Stress without Losing my Edge, and Found Self-Help that Actually Works - a True Story" by Dan Harris. I was, admittedly, somewhat skeptical initially. While I'd been exploring mindfulness for a number of years, was experimenting with meditation and was reading some books on compassion and acceptance, I wasn't really looking for a "self-help" book, per se. But, as I'm betting many of us has felt before, there's a certain sense of obligation to read a book that's been lent to us. After all, when our friend asks, "So, what did you think?" or "How'd you like it?" when we return it, it's difficult to fake it or say, "Um, well, I didn't read it." So, I opened the cover and delved in, good friend that I am.

And how glad I was that I did - I not only finished it in a few days' time, but have since reread it in its entirety and have referred to certain segments repeatedly! Harris is an American journalist and television news anchor. His writing is immediately engaging, his voice wry and witty, honest and loudly skeptical. Truly, if I thought I was skeptical before beginning to read his book, I needn't have feared: Harris is skeptical enough for the lot of us! Through a first-hand account of the incredibly interesting professional life he's lead, which takes us into a myriad of colourful places, including the war zones of Afghanistan, the West Bank and Iraq, to in-depth coverage of America's diverse religious cultures and subcultures, Harris opens up with shocking candour about how his internal voice, that infernal narrator of our lives which just won't shut off or up, guided him through many of these experiences. His own trials with drug addiction, self-criticism, anxiety and stress play out in a well laid out plot, interspersed with a cast of memorable real-life characters including but not limited to renowned news anchors, fallen-from-grace pastors, self-help gurus, and a host of neuroscientists. Harris' unabashedly honest portrayal of his own inner voice which fuels his competitive edge in his career but also creates a quagmire of stress in his life is both laugh-out-loud hilarious and embarrassingly too close to home, as many will be able to relate to some of his feelings and tendencies. 

To give you a brief taste of both his style and the book's content, here's an excerpt from the first two pages of the preface: 

"If you'd told me when I first arrived in New York City, to start working in network news, that I'd be using meditation to defang the voice in my head - or that I'd ever write a book about it - I would have laughed at you. Until recently, I thought of meditation as the exclusive province of bearded swamis, unwashed hippies, and fans of John Tesh music. Moreover, since I have the attention span of a six-month-old yellow Lab, I figured it was something I could never do anyway. I assumed, given the constant looping, buzzing, and fizzing of my thoughts, that "clearing my mind" wasn't an option.
But then came a strange and unplanned series of events, involving war zones, megachurches, self-help gurus, Paris Hilton, the Dalai Lama, and ten days of silence that, in a flash, went from the most annoying to the most profound experience of my life. As a result of all of this, I came to realize that my preconceptions about meditation were, in fact, misconceptions." 

This book is a perfect introduction to the concepts of mindfulness and meditation, which Harris makes accessible to all with the sharing of his own journey through skepticism, research and experimentation. Whether or not these topics are of any interest to you, the fantastic writing and terrifically engaging autobiographical elements of Harris' account are immensely entertaining, deeming this a definite worthy read in my books!

Harris, Dan. 10% Happier: How I Tamed the Voice in my Head, Reduced Stress without Losing my Edge, and Found Self-Help that Actually Works - a True Story. New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 2014.

My wonders (sometimes I have many!): Had you heard of Dan Harris before reading this post, and/or have you seen him on television? If so, what were your impressions? Have you read any other books about mindfulness and/or meditation? If you have any favourites, please do share the titles with me. Do you enjoy reading autobiographies and/or biographies? If so, do you have a list of any that you would recommend?

From this Side of Silence: Reflections on my Week-Long Yoga & Meditation Retreat

Since returning from my week away in Brooks, Maine where I went on retreat at Rolling Meadows Yoga and Meditation Centre (http://rollingmeadowsretreat.com/), a number of friends have asked me to tell them about my experience. "Sooooo . . . ?" they begin, eyebrows raised as they wait for me to fill in the blank space left in the wake of their query. And I've noticed that I've been typically replying in vague tones, something to the effect of, "It was good. Really good." And then wandering off topic as I turn the subject over to what they've been up to for the week. 

It's not that I've become completely socially inept (though there have always been times in my life when I've felt exactly that way!), and I'm not looking to take a vow of silence for the rest of my life (while stillness nourishes me at times - see my post on 'Stillness' - I love connecting with friends and family). My reticence when it comes to describing my retreat from my daily routine may be linked to the advice from some in the field of meditation and retreats, including one of my instructors at Rolling Meadows, as well as writer and mindfulness-guru Jon Kabat-Zinn. In his book, "Wherever You Go, There You Are: Mindfulness Meditation in Everyday Life," Kabat-Zinn pretty much advises the person who's bursting with the temptation to tell all and sundry that they meditate, not to. Period. A part of me may be holding back because I don't know that some people will truly understand my desire to go where I went. Or perhaps they'll misunderstand what I'm saying about it as I describe it. Or maybe they'll think I'm getting preachy about it. There may even be a part of me that feels as though I need to protect the experience, and that the only way to do so is to keep it locked up safely inside. Even here, in writing - a forum in which I'm usually more clear and eloquent than I am verbally - I'm obviously having difficulty pinning all of this down. To put it mildly!

I suppose what all of that rambling boils down to is that perhaps there's a part of me that fears judgement of some kind or other, whether it's made by those who think I went off to a luxury spa where I was essentially pampered all week, or those who think I'm spiralling towards becoming a meditating zealot of some kind. So, I thought I would use this space to outline what a typical day in my life on retreat looked like. To reiterate, that's MY life - not everyone there necessarily chose to use their time as I did. But here's a glimpse into a day in the life of Julie while on retreat at Rolling Meadows Yoga & Meditation Centre.

My day tended to begin rather early, which isn't an altogether new phenomenon, as I am an early-riser at home as well. But being one of 13 people lodging in an 1840's renovated New England farm house and having a roommate does put a new spin on things. As a result, I usually lay in bed looking out the windows waiting for the faint streaks of pre-dawn light to creep into the October sky. This seemed to me a socially acceptable time to rise and was my cue to oh-so quietly begin stirring, getting dressed and making my way downstairs. I did my utmost to be extra-mindful of how I opened and closed the front door seeing as a lovely but very sensitive set of bells hung on it decoratively. Seriously, we're trying to be silent here and though aesthetically lovely, the bells felt like a bit of a booby trap at times :).

My bedroom window on retreat and the view beyond.

One of the barns was visible from the quaint little dormer window in our room as well.

I love mornings. There's something so full of hope and promise about a new day unfolding before you. The morning's stillness creates an air of calm and mystery, and to be one of the few people out and about during such a secret time of the day gives me a little thrill. Plus, you get to see things that those who rise later miss out on. Like the flock of wild turkeys I befriended. Well, okay, "befriended" might be a bit of a stretch; it may have been a one-sided friendship. During one of my initial dawn outings I chanced upon a sizable group of these large, somewhat comical birds in a meadow adjacent to a forest. They were mere silhouettes when I first spied them, and I stealthily inched closer and closer to get to know these interesting fellows, more than twenty in their brood. They, however, weren't that keen on meeting me and quickly stumbled over one another in their eagerness to disappear into the treeline of the forest, a long line of feathered soldiers with much to learn about moving furtively, the larger ones urging on the naive small ones with wild clucks. It was, after all, Canada's Thanksgiving Day and I figure they sensed that I was Canadian and that this was a dangerous day for poultry to be flaunting themselves. And what do they really know of vegetarians? Each morning thereafter I made sure that this stretch was on my morning route. They appeared in the meadow only one other time, but guess where I found them several other mornings? Up in the trees! You may very well know that turkeys roost in treetops, a perfectly logical place for a bird to sleep safely away from predators. But to be walking through the woods on a peaceful morning and to discover this visually is a completely different matter. I was first alerted to their presence by their shrill clucks and softer coos. They were obviously telling each other, "She's near! She's coming! She's here!", and they're not terribly good at whispering. Scanning the forest floor, still shadowed in the dim light of dawn, I searched for my gobbling friends to no avail. Until I obviously got too close for comfort to the trees that several were roosting in, and they took to the sky in a jarring cacophony of shrieking clucks amidst a massive upheaval of branches, leaving me with mouth agape as the autumn leaves shaken free by their flurried flight rained down upon me. Now that I knew where they were I peered skyward and, sure enough, began spotting these plump, dark bodies sitting most improbably up in the tops of the trees surrounding me. Each time that I got too close for their comfort, several more would take flight, until I surely scared off the entire flock. I realize it may have been somewhat cruel to repeat this effort, but I entered into this game of hide 'n seek with the wild turkeys every morning for the duration of my stay. How they must be rejoicing now that I've left!

Morning sky.



The wild turkey sightings happened in both the field and forest ahead and to the right.

Sunrise

 

As part of the organized schedule of the retreat, our first session was our morning meditation which began at 7:30, so I had to wrap up my walk and be back at the house in time for this. The ringing of a singing bowl was used to alert us to the start of all sessions and meals, in addition to being rung as a wake-up call at 7:00 for those participants not playing with the wild turkeys. They were also used regularly within our sessions to signal the beginning and end of our meditation periods. Morning meditation was a half an hour long and was a silent time of quieting the body and mind, to create a space in which to simply be. Without getting into my experience here in too much detail here, I will admit that just being does not come very easily to me. My mind tends to follow each thought like a helpless young duckling is pulled along by the currents of a stream, and mama duck has to nip my focus by the tail feathers and pull me back behind the veil separating me from all of the chaos. There's no doubt, however, that even through all of this, the quieting was beneficial to my overall sense of wellbeing, and the exercise is patience-enhancing, which is a positive effect in any case.

A wonderful breakfast was served shortly after this session, consisting of steel-cut oatmeal and a vast array of condiments to spruce it up. A chunky apple cinnamon sauce, containing apples from the property's orchard, was available, along with other oatmeal toppings such as raisins, bananas, coconut, granola, prunes, almonds and both a dairy and non-dairy milk option. All meals served were vegetarian and many of the ingredients came from their own gardens and orchards.

After breakfast followed a stretch of free time. Once I began to sense the flow of everyone's day, I decided that this was a good time for me to peruse the house's library (overflowing with books on meditation, mindfulness, yoga, compassion, and nature), use the washroom for the purpose of showering (sharing only several washrooms between 13 people can be a challenge, but this time worked without fail for me), and to relax in our bedroom, usually reading or journaling. My roommate and dear friend, J, tended to use this time to go for a long walk and preferred to be in the room during the afternoon free time, so this routine worked well; we both knew full well that the temptation to talk would be far too great if we gave ourselves too much time together in our room!

My side of the room: a cozy spot for reading, journaling, and reflection.

The singing bowl announced the next session, which ran from 10:30 - 12:30. During this time we engaged in both meditation and a variety of styles of yoga. Our two instructors, an incredibly skilled, experienced and compassionate husband and wife team, took turns leading the sessions, but were often both present. Throughout the course of the week, we were exposed to what felt like a beautiful sampling of practices, including but not limited to meditation, asana, classical hatha yoga, yin and restorative yoga, yoga nidra, pranayama, continuum yoga, and metta meditation which we often practised through a series of prostrations (metta is the concept of compassion and universal loving-kindness). Within this session we also engaged in a fair amount of dialogue, a time for questions and a sharing of feelings, reflections, intentions and issues which may have brought some participants to this place in their lives. This was an unexpected aspect of the retreat for me. I was caught off guard by the element of counseling that transpired during some of the sessions, but it was an incredible process and experience to be privy to. That we had all created such a space of trust and comfort, enabling openness and the sharing of emotion and pain, gave me a sensation of true privilege that I will always hold dear. While a positive experience in the grand scope of things, I did find this part of the sessions to be both emotionally and physically exhausting. I tend to feel others' pain quite viscerally while hiding it fairly well, and I'm certain this was a large part of why I crashed into my cozy little bed each evening immediately after final meditation. Well, that and the hours of yoga, early mornings, pure country air, and the freedom from all electronic distractions!

Lunch followed this session. As at dinner time, we were always served a delicious and nourishing meal, such as these: lentil sambar, vegetable frittata, mung dal kitchari, Mediterranean red lentil and spinach stew, basque white bean soup, and a variety of salads and/or vegetable dishes prepared alongside, including country cabbage slaw, kale or collards in Indian spices, and simple steamed broccoli florets with olive oil and lemon juice. Our beverage options were water and tea - a great variety of flavours of tea, both caffeinated and caffeine free. You may note, however, that, in addition to there being no meat, there was never coffee, dessert, or alcohol. A number of participants noted at the retreat's end that they had gone through a definite detox process. While I don't consume coffee or alcohol regularly enough to feel deprived without them, I did experience a very strong craving mid-week: I wanted a cookie bigger than my face more than you can imagine! This obviously indicates that I consume far too much refined sugar in my day-to-day life, which probably wouldn't be a bad idea to look into a bit . . . we'll see!

The afternoon was a time to do with as you chose, with the caveat in mind that we should be being as much as possible. I felt rather rebellious on the two occasions when I took my backpack out with me containing my camera so that I could capture some of the wondrous nature surrounding us. Taking photos was most definitely doing, but I tried to do so as mindfully as possible! I spent most of these afternoons out in the woods. Rolling Meadows is located on 100 acres of beautiful rural land in mid-coast Maine. In and around the woods there are a spring-fed pond, streams, meadows, orchards, walking paths, and a pasture home to a small flock of sheep. And oh yes, to those of you who might recall my eagerness to pet a sheep while in Iceland, I did indeed pet the sheep in Maine!

Being out in nature for several hours each day was very nourishing, particularly when, as you can see by the photos above, the setting includes the forests of New England at the peak of Autumn splendour.

Our next session ran from 4:00 - 6:00, and featured both meditation and yoga once again. Dinner followed this session, and I was typically feeling ravenous by this point in the day. The sound of growling stomachs was often the background music during our meditations! I often went out for a last walk of the day before our final evening meditation, which began at 7:30. Following this very peaceful and calming session, I would invariably head to bed, sometimes reading a few pages before sleep overtook me.

Before going on retreat, numerous people mentioned to me that they knew people who'd embarked on similar journeys and had found the experience transformative. I can see how this would be the case. I found it did, indeed, affect me profoundly. In one sense, I found it reaffirming, as it reminded me of the importance of my values and of what I know nourishes me. I found it very opening, in terms of broadening my viewpoint on compassion and the beneficial possibilities that meditation may offer. And I found the experience enlightening. No, perhaps not in the "Ah-ha!" spiritual sense of a true awakening to nirvana, but using the word in a Western context, I felt that I learned a great deal and as a result grew in my thinking and beliefs.

I will be honest and say that a retreat of this nature is certainly not for everyone; I have to chuckle when I picture some people I know who've proclaimed that they cannot imagine abstaining from speech for even an hour attempting a silent retreat. But if you've ever seriously considered participating in a silent yoga and meditation retreat, if you feel that this is an experience that you would benefit from, then I highly recommend going on retreat, and specifically would recommend Rolling Meadows Yoga & Meditation Retreat Centre.
Namaste

My wonders: Does this retreat experience sound like something that you would like to partake in? What elements of the experience appeal to you? Which elements, if any, sound less appealing, or perhaps challenging? If you've ever been on retreat, please consider sharing your experience with me!

Thought of the Week: Stillness

"In the attitude of silence the soul finds the path in a clearer light, 

and what is elusive and deceptive resolves itself into crystal clearness. 

Our life is a long and arduous quest after Truth."

~ Mahatma Ghandi

 

"It is in the sanctuary of nature's silent places, 

with mindful attention, 

that the true liberation of the heart can be obtained."

~ Buddha

Having recently returned from a week-long silent yoga and meditation retreat, I can speak to how closing the lid on a "container of silence" affected me personally. When we first arrived at the Rolling Meadows Retreat Centre in Maine after our twelve-hour drive there, we were able to speak with everyone, meeting and greeting as one would at the beginning of a conference or vacation get-away. Our first meal together was spent getting to know a little bit about each other through natural social conversation. Questions about where people were from and how we traveled to get to the retreat centre cropped up, and easy jokes that ensued brought about laughter in the group. Most of the other ten participants were American, and one cracked a political joke, saying that they all needed to befriend us Canadians so that we might help them tunnel up North should the election result in a certain blustery fanatic becoming the next president of the United States! This kind of easy social banter kept us engaged and allowed us to get our bearings in this new environment.

Our first evening meditation session followed shortly thereafter, during which many logistical issues were outlined, including the agreement that we would be practising social silence, only speaking at select times during our sessions. At the conclusion of this session, we had officially entered into silence. 

One of the reasons for silence at retreats such as the one I attended is to create a space free of distraction and in which the focus on so many of the superficial values perpetuated in our society can be put aside. Time and space is given to just be, to become more fully aware of our true Selves, and to reveal or renew a sense of deeper meaning, compassion and clarity in our lives.

At the beginning of the week, there were indeed times when the silence felt awkward to me. Meal times in particular felt this way, especially if I sat at one of the larger tables. Usually such a social scenario, and especially in sharp contrast to that first meal we had all shared, eating in silence initially felt odd. I have certainly never been so keenly aware of the noises my own chewing makes! However, this sense of strangeness eased up after a few meals. We could also choose to eat in nearly any nook in the house that we wished, so oftentimes we would all be dispersed throughout the main floor of the large house, nestled in cozy chairs, sitting on the floor and eating at the coffee table, or siting with a few others at the kitchen or dining tables. 

Encountering people while in the woods and not greeting one another also had a strange feeling, but I tended to make up for this lack of polite verbal greeting with a smile and nod; some more militant in their ways resisted this and simply averted their eyes. Soon the silent ideal felt pretty normal, especially since we were usually digesting and integrating what we'd experienced during sessions. The other comforting element was that most of us were not entirely robotic about the silence: we whispered a "sorry" or "excuse me" when necessary, and as mentioned, smiles and the occasional bit of eye contact eliminated most of the awkwardness which may have otherwise clung. My friend and I were roommates, and prior to our entry into silence, we had also agreed that a whispered "Good night" and "Good morning" were both fair game. The two words given and received at the end and beginning of a day elicited broad smiles and a little thrill that so often comes from doing the forbidden.

"Silence is golden" is a phrase many of us have heard, but do we really believe that in this day and age? Our culture so often seems to revere those with the gift of oration. Great speakers are often given leadership roles and we all too often chide youngsters who are shy and quiet, urging them to speak up and make their mark verbally. All too often quietness seems to be looked upon as a weakness or deficit in our society.

Yet so much can be gleaned from listening, and listening well, both to others and to what is inside of ourselves. I feel very grateful for having had the opportunity to truly embrace quiet for the last week. As a natural introvert, I tend to recharge my own proverbial batteries more effectively when in a quieter environment. I feel more able to think and feel with clarity after even a short time of stillness.  Nature's stillness in particular nourishes me and helps me see what matters most. The one hundred acres of beautiful autumn woods in Maine upon which the retreat centre is located were a wondrous source of inspiration and clarity, and I close my eyes and breathe in the scent and feeling that I found there even as I sit here, many miles away.

"Silent spaces invite us to go to the inner room - the room inside ourselves.

By making room for silence, we resist the forces of the world which tell us to live an advertised life of surface appearances,

instead of a discovered life - a life lived in contact with our senses, our feelings,

our deepest thoughts and values."

~ Gunilla Norris

Returning to the world of talking is, perhaps not surprisingly, taking a bit of an adjustment. On our final morning of the retreat following our last session, the lid was taken off of our "container of silence" and we spent our last breakfast together chatting and ultimately saying goodbye. Seeing, or more aptly, hearing all of these people with whom we'd shared this time of silence now talking away was both exciting and yet felt just as odd as our initial silence had felt. And now, being back home amongst family and friends, I'm happy to be in their presence and able to catch up. There's nothing quite like connecting with another and delighting in sharing stories, thoughts and feelings with each other. But I'm also cognizant of how much society's noise and kerfuffle can take out of me. That awareness is key, and I will do my best to remember to make space for stillness when possible. Time to check in with where I am internally, to nourish myself through meditation, and to just go hang out with the trees.

My wonder: Do you value silence? Do you derive strength from it, or is it an uncomfortable space for you? Have you ever been on a silent retreat, or would you like to participate in one?

B-G Unplugged

I am heading off on a roadtrip with a dear friend today, our destination an 1840's renovated New England farmhouse overlooking the hills of coastal Maine. There we will participate in a week-long yoga and meditation retreat. I am both vibrating with excitement and prepared to be challenged and humbled in a way that I've never been before.

We will be following what looks to be a fairly regimented daily schedule, including four yoga/meditation sessions which are interspersed with three meals and two blocks of personal time. And yes, this is a silent retreat. Yup, silent. Quiet. Hushed. Still. Inaudible, Noiseless. You got it; there won't be a lot of idle chitchat going on. I'm both looking forward to this "social silence", and am somewhat fearful of it. How does one sit through a meal with people, a normally very social situation, without speaking to them? Will the voices in my head simply take over for the lack of actual audible voices around me?? The answer may well come from listening to the silence, and to the wonder which just might be lying in wait for me there.Time will tell.

An ironic aspect of my choice of dates for this retreat is that I would normally be attending a vastly different event on our arrival day. Yes, though this year the second weekend in October will see me submersing myself in "a container of shared silence", delving into self-inquiry and restorative poses, were I back home I would be going Oktoberfesting with a great crew of friends with whom this has been an annual tradition for quite a number of years! The friend with whom I'm traveling and I had to chuckle when I first noted this troubling point of the retreat's date. Hmmm, I mused, shall I seek inner peace and life's deeper meaning in silence, or go festing, with all of its drunken revelry and blaring polka tunes? I do love that my life's seesaw offers up both of these opportunities and experiences. After all, it's all about balance, right :)

To check out where I'll be and get a glimpse into what I might be doing, here's the link for the Rolling Meadows Yoga and Meditation Retreat Centre:

http://rollingmeadowsretreat.com/

I will be away for a full week, and will also be 'unplugged' during this time. The retreat is essentially a device-free zone, and I will have limited to no contact with anyone other than the other participants and our leaders. As a result, I will not be posting anything new for the next week, nor likely for a few days after getting back; I'll surely need some time to ease back into a world of voices and will be drinking up my family in copious doses! Please take the time to catch up on previous posts and begin any dialogue you wish through the comments option. I look forward to sharing the details of my experience when I return.
Namaste

My wonders: Have you ever participated in a yoga and/or meditation retreat of any kind? What was your experience? If you haven't yet, would you be interested in attending such a retreat?

Thought of the Week: Gratitude

"Cultivate the habit of being grateful 

for every good thing that comes to you,

and to give thanks continuously.

And because all things have contributed 

to your advancement,

you should include all things in your gratitude."

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Piglet noticed that even though he had a Very Small Heart,

it could hold a rather large amount of Gratitude."

~ A. A. Milne, 'Winnie-the-Pooh'

Thanksgiving weekend is nearly upon us here in Canada, and so thoughts of gratitude naturally come to mind. Or do they? As a teacher, I know that most students are hearing stories and engaging in discussions about thankfulness and what that means. Certainly many primary children will be drawing and writing about what they are thankful for. And of course their lists are varied, often ranging from family, friends and food, to a favourite toy or getting to play on an i-Pad (I remind myself that there is worth in all gratitude!). But let's face it, for many adults, Thanksgiving weekend is more about the extra day off work, football games, the intricacies of family gatherings, and all of the preparation that goes into hosting and cooking the feast, which of course are all things to be grateful for. But does thankfulness get relegated to this one day and too often shelved for the other 364 days of the year?

I strive to live a life of gratitude, I really do. Too often I find myself muttering about some of my first-world problems. I try to shake myself free of that mood and remind myself about what really matters. I doubt that a school day goes by when the thought, "I despise making lunches!" doesn't course through my mind. And yes, the logical and much more magnanimous 'me' usually counters with, "Be happy that you have children who need them and plenty of food to feed them." This voice is inevitably met with a wry smile on my part as I resist the urge to stick out my tongue at that 'me' for being such a goodie-two-shoes. But it helps. By this point I'm usually well into making the lunches and feeling much better about it. And I'm often lucky that someone in my family has joined me in the task, which inspires that much more gratitude.

But there are times when it's definitely harder than others to be thankful. When life becomes overwhelming, which it surely does for everyone at one point or another, practising gratitude can be a tremendous challenge. Ralph Waldo Emerson refers to being grateful for all things, even the negative things that we've experienced, for those things have all contributed to shaping the people we are today. Ayyy, that starts to get heavy because we all carry baggage, and the bearing of some of those burdens may have instilled us with a trait or two of which we're not all that fond. And yet, I truly believe, that each experience lived and trait acquired teaches us something, particularly the more aware of them we can become. The ultimate truth for me remains this: to embrace an awareness of those realities within us, to find some measure of gratitude for them, can only lead to a positive outcome of some sort, whereas the reverse - brooding on those things in the past that cannot be changed and living a static life of regret and pessimism - is sure to bring about many negative consequences. Though difficult, even in loss gratitude can be found, as this well-known saying attests to: "Don't cry because it's over; smile because it happened." 

Following are just a few tips to help you find those moments of gratitude, and hopefully cultivate a true spirit of thankfulness in your life. 

Say it loud, Say it proud
Pluck out one thing that you are grateful for, no matter what that thing might be, and state it out loud. Not just inside your brain, but aloud. And yes, sometimes that might sound something like, "I'm grateful that this day is over!" or "I'm grateful for this second glass of wine!" That's okay; we all have days like that. Expressing a feeling of gratitude out loud helps in two ways. First, it makes that gratitude more of a reality for yourself, as words spoken ultimately have more permanence than those floating in your head. And it might just have a secondary benefit, as it enables that gratitude to be heard by others, if present, and thus has the potential to perpetuate the attitude. Gratitude can be catchy like that!

Write it down
The power of the written word is strong for most of us, as is evident by the fact that the 'National Enquirer' has been publishing stories that sell since its creation in 1926. Keeping a gratitude journal is another way many people consciously articulate the things they are grateful for. As a person who enjoys writing, I've adopted this practice at various times in my life and it's been a powerful tool each time, particularly during times in my life when I was finding it more difficult to come by gratitude naturally. A dear friend of mine recently showed me a video recorded in a place of work which depicted several men running towards and then bouncing up on a small trampoline in order to place a stickie note as far up the company's 'Gratitude Wall' wall as they possibly could. Seriously, what a wonderfully fun and stress-relieving way to bring gratitude into the workplace! Whether you're writing your thoughts of gratitude in a private journal or on a post-it note for all to see, the act of consciously writing down what you're grateful for is a powerful exercise.

Share gratitude
Whether with your family, friends, colleagues, or even a complete stranger, sharing gratitude is bound to have a positive impact on all involved. Many of us were taught the most basic and fundamental expression of gratitude when we were mere toddlers: using our kind words and saying "Thank you". What a difference these two little words make! My daughter H has a regular habit of thanking me for the meals and snacks I make for her. This practice seems to come completely naturally to her, and she says the words with sincerity as she eagerly tucks into her food. As the recipient of her gratitude, I immediately feel a positive sensation wash over me, and any sense of drudgery that might otherwise have accompanied the task is gone. While "please" is often touted as the "magic word", I find the words "Thank you" to be even more powerful.

Set a common time to practise gratitude - but allow space for those times when living our lives gets in the way
For many the dinner table is a common place to share thoughts and discussions about the day. Perhaps this is a time for a regular sharing of gratitude. With my own children, bedtime is a special time (when we're not getting there too late at the end of a frazzling day, though this is likely when we most need a moment of mindful gratitude!). This has often been the time and place for sharing the "smiles" of our day, allowing us to go to sleep on a positive note. The reality for my family is that this doesn't happen every day. Schedules get hectic and I do not want the expression of gratitude to become "one more thing" that we feel a robotic need to accomplish. Heaven knows we don't need more guilt, so I try to release the need to check the box for this and rather revel in the joy when the moment is available. While we try to make it a positive habit, we also acknowledge that each day may not allow for this formal time. We might all just benefit from being a little bit easier on ourselves.

And now thank YOU, dear reader, for reading my post. Your time, engagement, comments and support are most appreciated. I am grateful for you.
Happy Thanksgiving!

My wonder: What do you do to actively practise gratitude? Do you have any personal ways that you remind yourself to be thankful even when it's difficult? I'd certainly be grateful for any tips you can share with me!

Iceland, Day Ten: Thursday, August 18, 2016

Our last full day in Iceland - and my Dad’s 60th birthday! - dawned with some sunny patches of blue sky, and we made our way out of Reykjavik and drove south a ways, to the area where M went biking on Monday. He thought we’d enjoy hiking at Reykjadalur, a trail that leads to a natural bathing spring, and he was right.

Unlike at Glymur, we actually checked out the posted signs before our hike!

Setting off on our hike at Reykjadalur.

The hike there was mostly uphill, and we passed both babbling springs of cold water and steaming rivulets of very hot water. At times we came upon large, cauldron-like holes in the ground from which thick clouds of steam and noxious vapours smelling of sulphur wafted, soaking us in beads of moisture even as we simply walked through them. The bubbles of boiling mud belched and oozed, and as has occurred to us so many times during this trip, we marveled that we’re truly still on planet Earth.

Pockets of steam erupted from the earth around us.

The geothermal waters boiled away dangerously in some of the cauldron-like pits we passed.

Do NOT fall in!

Awash in a sulphur steam bath.

Baa Baa Black Sheep :)

Our shadows can attest to the fact that we were here!

And although the hike was reward itself, our efforts were further rewarded when we arrived at the bathing stream . . . picture-perfect, it was. This spot where a hot stream and a cold stream meet make for a perfect soaking experience. We picnicked right beside the stream, and made friends with the resident sheep: Yes! I pet a sheep on my last full day in Iceland! Truth be told he was obviously very used to people, many of whom probably feed him regularly, but nevertheless, he was a wild sheep and we pet him! We changed into bathing suits as covertly as possible, most people graciously averting eyes in exchange for the same courtesy, and waded in. Lounging in this warm, rocky stream surrounded by grassy hills and rocky mountains, chatting with people from all around the world who’d happily found this little piece of heaven in Iceland as well, made for an unforgettable day for us all. I found myself closing my eyes every now and again, tilting my face up to the sun and simply soaking up the moment, basking in the surreality of it all.

I've read that this boardwalk is a more recent addition to the hot springs at Reykjadalur, and have heard from people who were there prior to its installation that it takes away from the natural beauty of the spot. I don't doubt it, but considering that we still saw a few people fall on the slippery mud banks as they were either getting in or out before reaching the wooden boardwalk, I'm sure it has increased the safety of the experience.

I pet a sheep - finally! - on my last full day in Iceland!

He proceeded to watch us bathe.

Blissfully soaking.

After a couple hours of soaking and our hike back down, we returned to Reykjavik in the late afternoon, thankful that blue skies still reigned there as well. We spent a short time at the apartment to clean up and then headed out for our final dinner in Iceland. Italian’s always a crowd-pleaser in our family, so we knew everyone would be happy with that. Perhaps our next family trip will be to Italy, where we could compare the Roman baths to our various bathing experiences here.

Our travel day was the next day on August 19, but since our flight didn’t leave until mid-afternoon, we planned to enjoy a final morning after packing up and leaving the apartment. We enjoyed one final brunch at "The Laundromat Cafe", said goodbye to some of the local cats we'd befriended during our stay, and enjoyed some final views of the city. Then off to Keflavik Airport we went.

Saying goodbye to the neighbourhood kitties we'd come to know and love in Reykjavik.

Final look at Hallgrimskirkja.

Goodbye Iceland!

'The Jet Nest' sculpture greets travelers at Keflavik Airport.

Heading home.

We had an absolutely amazing time in Iceland, and the experiences we shared during our family vacation exceeded all expectations. However, as with any trip, there’s always something unfailingly wonderful about going home.

Thanks for reading. I love travel literature and all that it inspires, and I hope you enjoyed traveling along with us vicariously. Perhaps Iceland has moved up on your list of places to visit as a result. If so, never hesitate to touch base with me; I'd be more than happy to chat with you about this wonderful country that captured our hearts!

My wonder: What place have you traveled to that has captured your heart?

Iceland, Day Nine: Wednesday, August 17, 2016

This morning we made our way to the harbour, with some of the world’s largest mammals on our minds . . . we were going whale watching! We chose the Elding tour company, impressed by both their advertised tours and by their ethical standpoint: they stand firmly against commercial whaling - unfortunately a practice that Iceland and a few other countries still participate in - and also follow a strict code of respect for the magnificent animals that people from around the globe come to watch in their natural environment.

Couldn't have said it better ourselves!

The harbour as seen from our boat as we headed out to sea.

A view of Harpa from the water.

All cozy and set to see some whales!

Knowing that the girls’ expectations were very likely formed by some slightly idealistic video footage and photos that they’ve seen over the years, we told them that the likelihood of seeing anything all that impressive was highly unlikely. How fortunate we were that the waters were relatively calm and that a number of the animals felt like saying Hello to us today. In addition to a variety of marine birds, including puffins, we saw three different species of cetacea: porpoises (small and elusive), a number of minke whales, and a humpback whale!!! We were excited, to say the least! We trailed the humpback for quite some time, observing some of its behaviours, including spouting from its blowhole, cresting the surface, lunge-feeding, and we were also lucky enough to see its tail numerous times as it dove down into the waters more deeply. It was a truly awesome experience to be able to see some of these wonderful creatures with whom we share this planet. And in addition to watching the whales, the time spent out on the water also afforded us a new perspective of the city and harbour.

After docking, we spent the afternoon wandering through the downtown streets, lunching on a patio, and choosing a souvenir or two. And our evening was a cozy one in, eating left-overs, playing cards together, and watching some Olympic coverage and a movie . . . it was neat how this little place had come to feel kinda like home.

Whimsical sculpture that we found in the IcelandAir Hotel as we walked
through the ground floor areas.

Hanging around downtown Reyjkavik.

Patio time!

Our final full day in Iceland will be detailed in Day Ten's instalment of our trip. Please tune in to read about yet another day my family and I will never forget as we wrapped up our time in Iceland!

My wonder: Have you ever been whale watching? Where were you and which species of cetacea did you see?