Where is your happy place?
Many of us can name our worst fear or most loathed moment as easily as snapping our fingers. Seriously. I mean, what’s yours?
But can you name your bliss? I’m talking about the place where you are so ecstatically happy that nothing gets in. Not pain, not illness, not bad moods, nasty people, or shitty circumstances.
We tend to spend our lives in search of happiness. Or so we say. But sometimes we get more out of staying stuck in the yuck.
Yeah, I said it.
Sometimes we get more out of our shit than we think we would out of its resolution. Don’t get me wrong – most of that is on a pretty unconscious level. But the fact remains….
When we’re in the shit, we get to complain about life not being better. If we actually did something about it, we’d be taking responsibility for it. And, you know, if it didn’t go so well…well, that would land squarely on our shoulders, wouldn’t it? And that process would take a lot of energy, and might be kinda painful. Better to just stick with the shit we do know. It’s safer.
When we’re in the shit, we can blame everybody else for our circumstances. “I never have any money because the big companies won’t hire me. You know, because I’m a woman, and they think I’ll go off on mat leave right away.” “If my parents hadn’t run out of money, I could have finished university. My life would have been so much better then.” “No man will date me because of this stupid baby weight that I still can’t lose, even 5 years later.” “Why do they have to show off how much money they have by going on vacations and driving nice cars? It’s really inconsiderate to people like me who don’t have money.” “He’s always such an asshole to me. God, I’m so sick of it. One day, I’m really going to straighten him out.”
But here’s the thing. You can only clean up your own backyard. You don’t get to play in anyone else’s.
When we’re in the shit, we get a lot of attention. It’s a little like parenting toddlers though…we need to distinguish between positive attention and negative attention. When we’re in the shit, we’re getting a lot of negative attention from the people around us, usually in the form of sympathy, although sometimes it comes in the form of criticism. (I’ve been on both ends of that receiving line, and I’m guessing some of you have too.) Regardless of exactly how it comes out, this attention cycle can keep us trapped in a weird loop that keeps us really plugged into the circumstances that create the attention in the first place. After all, most of us crave attention on some level. And it is only once we start to really tease the threads apart that we start to see where they serve us and where they block us.
If you choose to take responsibility for your shit, it’s scary as hell. And you get to claim both the crap, AND the awesomeness. You stop receiving negative attention, and you start creating positive attention. And you stop blaming other people for your shit and owning it yourself.
You put on your big girl panties. (Whatever style they may be.)
AND this brings you one step closer to bliss. Imagine that.
Recently, I figured out exactly where my bliss is. I’m pretty good at identifying my happy places. I adore the water – that’s definitely a happy place for me. Great sex can be a very happy place, with the right person and for the right reasons. Running in the trails listening to a great book, that can really be a happy place for me. Super fabulous bonding family time with my kids can be an awesome happy place.
But my bliss? My absolute B L I S S ?
My bliss is being on stage, singing with my band, whom I adore and trust entirely. Singing with Saffron, who’s voice I absolutely love, and who I love running around the stage being fun and silly and awesome and ridiculous with. My bliss is being on stage with those guys – so much so that I can show up after my car breaking down (which didn’t put me in the greatest mood), with a migraine headache, and have to take major painkillers (of the prescription required in triplicate form) to make it through the night, have gear breaking down on stage all night, and still feel like I am completely floating on air.
And still feel like there is nowhere in the world that I would rather be.
That is my bliss. Unquestionably. Music, performance, and trust come together to form my bliss.
What is yours?
Think about it. But in fact, you have to do more than think about it. You have to actually explore it with your body. With your being. You have to find that place where all the shit in the world doesn’t matter (the shit you’re in, the shit you create, and the shit you can’t escape), because in that moment, you sparkle.
Where do you sparkle?
The thing about sparkle is that you have to own your shit to find your sparkle.
You have to own your shit to find your sparkle. | Tweet it!
Because it’s really hard to find your inner bling when you’re still pointing a finger everywhere else, instead of standing in your own shoes. Those shoes may be uncomfortable, but once you learn how to wear them, I mean really learn how to get down in those mutherfuckers, you will positively glow.
And when you’re standing in your own shoes, suffused with your own light, you will know your bliss. You will find it, recognize it, let it find you, run screaming towards it, sing it from the mountaintops.
So go. Find your bliss. And tell me all about that shit.