“Happiness is within the reach of everyone, rich or poor. Yet comparatively few people are happy. I believe the reason for this is that the majority don't recognize happiness even when it is

within their grasp.”

—Robert Baden-Powell

I’ve been thinking about a forensic investigation technique lately—and not just because I like reading mysteries. No, it’s because I recently came across Dr. Edmond Locard’s principle of exchange, which states, “Every contact leaves a trace.” This principle is the basis of forensic science—trace evidence, such as fingerprints, DNA, footprints, or fibers, can now be used to link people or objects to crime scenes.

Every contact does leave a trace, and not just forensically speaking. The people around us, and what we allow into our surroundings and our minds, leave traces on us and in us. We all have people in our lives who inspire, energize, and encourage us, and thank goodness for them. We probably also know people who drain us of energy or leave us anxious and irritated after every encounter. To protect our happiness and overall mental state, we can seek out the people and things which lift us up, while minimizing contact with the people and things which leave a negative trace.

I try to walk the line between hiding from the legitimate problems in the world and allowing them too much space in my head. I know what I choose to read and to watch leaves a trace, so I don’t choose to read or watch certain things, no matter how worthy they might be. I surround myself as much as is in my power with things I want to leave a trace on my world. My office especially is a place that holds symbols and talismans of inspiration, as well as reminders of love others have shown me, and things I aspire to.  I’m also fortunate enough to have a great deal of control over the people I interact with, and therefore most of them leave positive traces.

What about the traces we ourselves are leaving? It bears remembering that we have the power to influence others with our words and actions.  After all, happiness is contagious.

With every interaction, we touch others and they touch us. What kind of trace will you leave?

Introduction by Ted Kooser: A while back we published a column in which I talked about my delight in the many names of kinds of apples, and mentioned Louise Bogan's marvelous mid-century poem “The Crossed Apple.” Here's yet another fine apple-name poem for my collection, by Susan Rothbard, who lives in New Jersey.

That New

At the market today, I look for Piñata

apples, their soft-blush-yellow. My husband

brought them home last week, made me guess at

the name of this new strain, held one in his hand

like a gift and laughed as I tried all

the names I knew: Gala, Fuji, Honey

Crisp—watched his face for clues—what to call

something new? It’s winter, only tawny

hues and frozen ground, but that apple bride

was sweet, and I want to bring it back to him,

that new. When he cut it, the star inside

held seeds of other stars, the way within

a life are all the lives you might live,

each unnamed, until you name it.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2012 by Susan Rothbard, “That New,” from the Cortland Review, (No. 58, 2012). Poem reprinted by permission of Susan Rothbard and the publisher. Introduction copyright ©2017 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.

During the week between Christmas and Jan. 1, I begin my official year-end wrap up and planning for the next year. I don’t do New Year’s resolutions, but I do set some big, overarching goals at this time. Or try to. I have a problem with big, overarching goals. Oh, I can set them all right, but I struggle with the nitty-gritty, down-and-dirty practicality of how to get from here to there. I’m going to try something new this year, which I’ll get to later, but first, I’m going to share with you some tools I use for planning my goals for a new year.

Before I get into any goal setting, I look back over the past year to see what I’ve accomplished and where I’ve fallen short. This year, I used Marie Forleo’s three-question review, but I also wrote down a list of some of the more mundane things I did that nevertheless were accomplishments, such as reading 109 books, posting to Catching Happiness 106 times, and starting a regular sketching practice (three months and counting). While I fell short on working on my book idea, riding Tank bridleless, purging my house of unneeded items, and various and sundry other goals, 2016 was a better-than-average year for me. I took a moment to savor those accomplishments before moving on to…

Next, I start writing out all the things that are floating around in my head that I would like to see accomplished in the coming year. This is where I allow myself to dream big, and I include as many of the nagging tasks I’d like to see finished as I can think of. This year, I’ve made a list called “70 in ’17”—70 things I want to happen in 2017. Some of these are writing goals (complete a draft of that book, write some haiku), some are household goals (buy new light fixture for kitchen nook, stain the chairs on the front porch), and some are just for fun (do puzzle with M, buy some new music, go to Fannin Hill with Tank). My idea is to work from this list as I sit down to plan each month.

This is the new thing I mentioned above. I recently read The12-Week Year, and I’m experimenting with 12-Week planning. I’m hoping this will solve my problem with carrying out my bigger goals by helping me break them down into much smaller, more do-able increments. So far, I’m still struggling a bit with that—my perfectionism (fear in disguise?) is hampering my ability to choose and break down appropriate goals, but I’m making progress.

Word of the Year

As I’ve done in past years, I choose a word of the year to guide me. Previous years’ words have included open, light, passion, and quality. This year’s word is “deeper.” I want it to encourage me to stop skimming the surface and go deeper, to find the riches that are buried. Be less superficial, more real. Do fewer things, but do them better.

In January, all things seem possible. It’s in the actual doing that we sometimes run into problems. All this planning, for me, is intended to keep me on track. I share these practices with you in case there’s anything here you might like to try for yourself.

How do you plan for a new year? Do you have any goals or dreams for 2017 you’d like to share?

“A new year is a gift, a small piece of infinity, to do with as we will. Things happen. We grow (we hope), and we learn willy nilly. Life moves around us, life moves through us to others, and the year gradually accepts its pattern. We give, we take, we resist, we flow. Our reachings, acceptances, rejections, our hesitancies, courage, fears, and our loves, all these form the shape of the year for each of us, as individuals, as part of a family, as a member of a community.”

—Jean Hersey, The Shape of a Year

I hope you had a most happy and refreshing holiday season. Even though it was 85 degrees on Christmas Day, we enjoyed hosting family for a meal, and apparently we were very good this year, because we all received delightful gifts.

I spent last week sleeping in, puttering around, dreaming and making plans for 2017, reading, and (let’s be honest) keeping Prudy out of the Christmas tree until I could take it down yesterday. This year’s broken ornament count: two. Not bad.

For me personally, 2016 was an excellent year, and I plan to build on that success in 2017. I have fun plans for Catching Happiness, too—so stick around!

Happy New Year—may it bring you much joy, growth, and meaning!

I typically take a break from blogging during the week between Christmas and New Year’s, and I’m doing just that next week. For me, this time of year is a time of reflection and planning. I’ll be reviewing 2016, working on setting goals, and choosing a word of the year next week, as well as spending a little extra time reading for pleasure, and resting up after hosting the family for Christmas. I didn’t want you to have Catching Happiness withdrawals (haha) so I prepared this Link Love for you to enjoy while I’m gone.

I loved Marie Forleo’s three-question end-of-the-year review process.  Simple, yet powerful.

For a more in-depth review of 2016, try Sandra Pawula’s 18 questions. There’s a free downloadable workbook, as well. 

I find choosing a word of the year a helpful practice (though I didn’t write about it on the blog, 2016’s word was “Quality.”) Here’s an article by Liz Smith about choosing a guiding word for 2017. As she writes, “Once you have your word, let it light the unknown path for you next year.”

I rarely listen to podcasts, but it’s something I would like to do more of in the coming year. I just discovered the Beaks and Geeks podcast, thanks to an email from Penguin Random House. Here’s a link to a round-up of “10 Best of Books Author Podcasts.” I’ll probably listen to some of these next week as well.

I would love to try this monthly art and inspiration subscription from Holstee. I’m adding it to my list of treats/rewards. (No affiliation.)

If you’re looking for a way to improve your habits, you can try this habit-tracking calendar. (No affiliation.)

And on a less introspective note, I’ve spent far too much time watching Simon’s Cat videos on YouTube. Why don’t you join me? Click below for the Christmas Collection:

“Happiness, true happiness, is an inner quality. It is a state of mind. If your mind is at peace, you are happy. If your mind is at peace, but you have nothing else, you can be happy. If you have everything the world can give—pleasure, possessions, power—but  lack peace of mind, you can never be happy.”

—Dada Vaswani

I indulge in the comforts of life—comfort food, comfort reads, comfortable routines—at least as much as the next person. But I must admit that dis-comfort has also played an important and positive role in my life. As much as I hate to admit it, discomfort does more to help me towards my best life than comfort does.

Why is discomfort important? Discomfort prompts us to change. It’s a sign that something is wrong or needs attention. If things are great as they are, why would you want or need to change? It’s that restless, edgy, something’s-not-quite-right feeling that spurs us on to better things.

For example, when I become uncomfortable in my body, I increase my exercise and monitor my eating if it’s my weight that’s bothering me. If I’m exhausted, I get more sleep, and if I’m hurting, I make appointments with professionals who can help me feel better. When the mess in my office becomes uncomfortable, it’s time to go through the paper piles (see photo!). Most recently I’ve become uncomfortable with the amount of stuff in my house. I’m not a minimalist (or a hoarder), but my belongings are weighing on me rather than bringing me joy and comfort. I’ve tipped over the edge of enough into too much. Discomfort will help me pare away the “too much” and reach the “just right.”

Sometimes I’ll notice that nagging feeling of discomfort around my behavior. I’ll say or do something and wonder later what I was thinking. Or I’ll hear myself talking griping about a situation to a friend or my husband, and realize there’s something about it that’s getting under my skin. Often, this means it’s time to examine my motives, my needs, and my true desires. Do my actions match up with my stated goals? If not, time to change.

I don’t believe there’s anything wrong with being in our comfort zones…sometimes. If we were constantly uncomfortable, it would make for an unpleasant, unhappy life. Our comfort zones can be places to relax and recharge, places to regroup and ready ourselves for a return to the discomfort zone—because that’s where real growth takes place.

Is anything causing you discomfort right now? Does something need to change?

Introduction by Ted Kooser: We are never without our insect companions, even in winter, and here’s one who has the run of the house. Roger Pfingston lives in Indiana.

December

Lodged tight for days

in a corner of the wall,

ladybug can’t resist the tree

crawling now over cold

light, ceramic fruits,

tinsel lamb and sleigh.

Flies out of the tree

to try rum cake on a

plate of caroling cherubs.

Ends up on her back,

wings flared, silly girl

spinning over the kitchen floor.

Later, between the blinds,

tiny bump of silhouette:

a stillness against the falling snow.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2013 by Roger Pfingston and reprinted from Poetry East, Nos. 80 & 81, Fall 2013. Roger Pfingston’s most recent book of poems is A Day Marked for Telling, Finishing Line Pr., 2011. Poem reprinted by permission of Roger Pfingston and the publisher. Introduction copyright ©2014 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.

Despite my stated goal of reducing the to-be-read (TBR) stack of books I own, the theme of 2016 could easily be summed up in the title of this post. Never mind that my closet shelves already groaned beneath the weight of books I just HAD to have, never mind that even a rapid reader would literally have reading material for years, I have gone and purchased (or received from Paperback Swap) more than 50 books this year.

While I’ve been diligent about reading from my stack, there’s simply no way to get ahead—that is, reduce the TBR stack to a more manageable level—if I keep buying books at such a pace.

But really, who can resist David Sedaris’ Let’s Explore Diabetes With Owls for 50 cents?  The Country Diary of an Edwardian Lady for $1? Or even At Home With Beatrix Potter for $8.50? Not I.

It’s not just the books themselves that I love—I love the hunt. I carry lists of books I’m looking for in my purse. I search out used bookstores when I’m on vacation, and I happily troll the Internet for books to add to my collection.

There is a way to fix this, I know. Simply stop going into the Friends of the Library bookstore at my local library. Stop frequenting used bookstores. Stop reading book blogs because they introduce me to books I want to read and if I can’t find them at the library I end up adding them to my wish list (and we all know what I wind up doing then—say it with me—recklessly buying books). Stop reading the book reviews in my Sunday paper (because: see above).

But who am I kidding? I’m not going to do, or stop doing, any of those things. Searching for books is a huge source of simple pleasure and happiness. This is a relatively harmless addiction, since most of my book purchases are $10 or less. I could collect Faberge eggs, or antique cars, or even first editions, all of which cost a lot more than my second-hand copy of P.G. Wodehouse’s A Damsel in Distress. And my TBR stack is not—yet—a fire hazard.

I have to conclude that unless my very nature changes, I’ll continue recklessly buying books.

I can live with that.

How about you? Anything you’ve spent 2016 “recklessly buying”?

“It takes great wit and interest and energy to be happy. The pursuit of happiness is a great activity. One must be open and alive. It is the greatest feat man has to accomplish.”

—Robert Herrick

I’m thrilled to share with you my latest published article, “Wanted: One Dream Horse.” Written for the American Quarter Horse Association’s member publication America’s Horse, it’s the story of how I came to buy Tank. You can read it in full here.

Introduction by Ted Kooser: We've been selecting poems for this column for more than ten years and I can't remember ever publishing a poem about a cat. But here at last is a cat, a lovely old cat. Ron Koertge lives in California, and his most recent book of poems is Vampire Planet: New & Selected Poems, from Red Hen Press.

No one would take her when Ruth passed.

As the survivors assessed some antiques,

I kept hearing, “She's old. Somebody

should put her down.”

I picked her up instead. Every night I tell her

about the fish who died for her, the ones

in the cheerful aluminum cans.

She lies on my chest to sleep, rising

and falling, rising and falling like a rowboat

fastened to a battered dock by a string.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2016 by Ron Koertge, “Lily,” from Vampire Planet: New & Selected Poems, (Red Hen Press, 2016). Poem reprinted by permission of Ron Koertge and the publisher. Introduction copyright ©2017 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.

For the past 28 days I’ve been participating in the 2016 30-Day Gratitude Photo Challenge, sponsored by Dani from Positively Present and Caroline from Made Vibrant. Each day, I’ve used a prompt to write about something for which I’m grateful, added a photo, and posted the results on Instagram and Facebook. Some days I’ve gone deeper than others, some days practically wrote themselves, and other days I’ve had to mull over the prompt all day before I could come up with something to write about.

I really am grateful for all that I have, and all that I’ve experienced and learned, even the hard things. My life isn’t “perfect,” but it’s perfect for me. Twenty-eight (and counting) days of gratitude have reminded me of just how good I have it. As promised, here are a few of my favorite posts along with their photos (prompts are in bold):

Day 2/Love: 

“Love them with your heart, not your ego.” I can’t remember where I read this, but it has been a life-changing lesson for me when people I SAY I love don’t behave the way I want them to! It’s helped me to let go of my expectations for others and simply love them. It’s brought me peace instead of frustration and pain. It’s even helped me love myself when I’m not (surprise!) perfect. This photo is of my cat—who I love with all my heart, even though she sometimes (ahem) behaves in ways I don’t want her to!

Day 9/Wonder:

It took half a lifetime of dreaming, but 12 years ago this guy came into my life. I’m still filled with wonder when I’m with him, even today, when I finished up his fall clip (in Florida, he won’t need his winter coat until about February) and came home covered in sweat and horse hair. So grateful for him.

Day 10/Art:

Day 11/Memory:

This photo is of my mom’s house, which used to be my grandparents’ house, in Northern California. It holds many of my happiest childhood memories, including playing card games, and indulging in Grandma’s homemade bread and boysenberry cobbler. Now that my mom lives there, we’re making new memories. I’m grateful for the love, peace, joy, and continuity this house stands for.

Day 15/Gift:

One of the best gifts I was ever given came from my husband. It was near my birthday, and our son was just about to enter elementary school. My husband bought me a cake with our son’s photo on it and the words “Thank you Mommy. You were there when I needed you” written in icing, as well as a beautiful opal necklace. It wasn’t so much the gifts themselves as the sentiment—your contributions to family life are important, and what you do matters—that meant so much to me. When our son was born, I’d left work in our business and become a stay-at-home mom. I wanted this very much, but had found the experience much more difficult that I expected. I was (and am) grateful for the recognition of my work and sacrifices, and felt loved, appreciated, and respected. Photo is of me and Nick at the zoo.

Day 23/Progress:

My motto is “progress, not perfection.” My spirit animal is the tortoise. Ninety percent of the progress I’ve made in writing, riding, sketching, and so on, has come from baby steps. I’m proud and grateful that I’ve continued making progress on goals that are important to me, even though that progress has been slow. I haven’t given up. As Confucius said, “It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop.” 

What are you grateful for today?

“Gratitude can transform common days into thanksgivings, turn routine jobs into joy, and change ordinary opportunities into blessings.”

—William Arthur Ward

It is Thanksgiving Day in the U.S. tomorrow. All over the country, and here in the Catching Happiness household, we’ll be cooking, eating, bickering talking with our families, playing games, watching football, and so on. I’m looking forward to taking time out for thanksgiving. All is currently well in my world, and I’m grateful.

Wishing you and yours a warm and loving Thanksgiving! (If Thanksgiving is not a tradition where you live, then have a very happy Thursday!)

What could be wrong with positive thinking? Shouldn’t you maintain an optimistic belief in your success when you set out to achieve something? After all, popular culture is full of inspirational quotes like:

“If you can dream it, you can do it.”

 “Leap and the net will appear.”

“Wishing makes it so.”

While these quotes may make you feel good, they fall short when it comes to the practicalities of figuring out how to “make it so.” Instead of spending time only visualizing, wishing, or dreaming about achieving a goal, there is a system that can make you more likely to achieve your goals and dreams.

It’s called mental contrasting.

Mental contrasting is a visualization technique developed by researcher and professor Gabriele Oettingen and her colleagues, and is discussed at length in the book Rethinking Positive Thinking: Inside the New Science of Motivation. 

Daydreaming all by itself, according to Oettingen, makes people less likely to realize their dreams and wishes. Why? Because, she writes, “The pleasurable act of dreaming seems to let us fulfill our wishes in our minds, sapping our energy to perform the hard work of meeting the challenges in real life.”

We shouldn’t stop dreaming altogether, though. In fact, dreaming is a big part of mental contrasting. However, it goes beyond the simple dreaming stage into more practical waters.

This brings us to the handy little acronym WOOP, which stands for Wish, Outcome, Obstacle, Plan. According to woopmylife.org, “WOOP can support all areas of behavior change. It is for people who feel stuck and don’t know what to do. It is also for people whose lives seem just fine but who feel they can do better. And it is for people who face a particular challenge or transition….Use WOOP to excel at work, promote good health, enjoy relationships more, and live a happier life.”

According to woopmylife.org, the four steps of WOOP work like this:

If you want to try WOOP, click here for a template to use for planning purposes. There’s also an app and a “woop kit.” 

Just as The Upside of Stress changed and broadened my thinking about stress, Rethinking Positive Thinking gave me a new way to plan and execute goals and dreams, and I wanted to share it with you. For most people, happiness includes growth and accomplishment. Mental contrasting is one tool likely to help you with that facet of life. All the vision boards in the world will not help you if you do not act. Wishing does not make it so. But WOOPing just might.

Introduction by Ted Kooser: It is enough for me as a reader that a poem take from life a single moment and hold it up for me to look at. There need not be anything sensational or unusual or peculiar about that moment, but somehow, by directing my attention to it, our attention to it, the poet bathes it in the light of the remarkable. Here is a poem like this by Carolyn Miller, who lives in San Francisco.

The World as It is

No ladders, no descending angels, no voice

out of the whirlwind, no rending

of the veil, or chariot in the sky—only

water rising and falling in breathing springs

and seeping up through limestone, aquifers filling

and flowing over, russet stands of prairie grass

and dark pupils of black-eyed Susans. Only

the fixed and wandering stars: Orion rising sideways,

Jupiter traversing the southwest like a great firefly,

Venus trembling and faceted in the west—and the moon,

appearing suddenly over your shoulder, brimming

and ovoid, ripe with light, lifting slowly, deliberately,

wobbling slightly, while far below, the faithful sea

rises up and follows.

American Life in Poetry is made possible by The Poetry Foundation (www.poetryfoundation.org), publisher of Poetry magazine. It is also supported by the Department of English at the University of Nebraska, Lincoln. Poem copyright ©2009 by Carolyn Miller, from her most recent book of poems, “Light, Moving,” Sixteen Rivers Press, 2009. Reprinted by permission of Carolyn Miller and the publisher. Introduction copyright ©2010 by The Poetry Foundation. The introduction’s author, Ted Kooser, served as United States Poet Laureate Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 2004-2006. We do not accept unsolicited manuscripts.

I believe I wouldn’t have learned as much and had as many adventures without Catching Happiness. I will always be grateful for it, and for you, the reader. Thank you for being a part of the past seven happy years!