Happiness and Work

Part of what I've been researching is happines,s and I've discovered some wonderful things. For example, for years it has been thought that success makes us happier. But research shows that the opposite is true; happiness makes us more successful. One study conducted on two groups of medical doctors showed that the group given a simple gift of candy before they were asked to make a medical evaluation made better and quicker evaluations than the group that was not given a gift.

I could relate many more such studies, but the thing that impressed me is that usually we think we can get our family members to work harder and faster if we promise them a reward at the end. But study after study showed that if we can make people feel happier before they start to work, they work better and faster than if promised rewards afterward. I wish I'd known that when I was raising my children. But then, maybe these results only work in business.

The research also details many things that make people happy like the small gift of candy the doctors were given or words of praise or quality time spent with the person or thinking about good things like blessings or playing music that makes them happy.

I don't have children at home any more, but I'd be interested to see how you find this works on children. If you try it, let me know!

My Hands

As I started to write just now I looked down and was startled. How did my mother’s hands get attached to the ends of my arms? I don’t feel older, but these hands are her old hands. The blood vessels look like blue cords, the threads of muscles that work my fingers look like tight-ropes and the skin is loose and soft just like Mother's. Like I said, my mother’s hands have somehow become attached to my arms. These hands are not the young strong hands that used to be on the ends of my arms.
For many years I’ve watched these hands do dishes, wring out diapers (That’s right—no disposable diapers when I began mothering. You young mothers don’t know how lucky you are!) I’ve watched them knit, crochet and do all kinds of hand work. I’ve washed garden soil off them and once in a great while painted the nails. I’ve adorned the fingers with rings and the wrists with bracelets. Through tears that distorted their shape I’ve looked at these hands clenched in front of me as I prayed. And more times than I wish, I’ve watched cuts and burns slowly heal on these hands.

But the best memories are of these fingers softly caressing a sleeping child’s cheek. Or of Mr. J slipping a ring on my finger as we stand beside an altar. Or of these fingers patting my dying father on the shoulder as a final goodbye. Or of little people kissing my hands as I tucked them into bed. So many wonderful memories now adorn these hands.

Yes, these hands have turned into my mother’s hands but I’m grateful. Her hands did all those things too, and they did even more than that for me. I just pray that someday my daughters will look at their hands and see mine and be grateful. What more could a mother wish for?

Work! Work! Work!

Mr. J finished painting the upstairs and then left town to go to a conference. Yesterday the new carpet was laid and so today I am trying my best to put plug plates and switch plates back on, take off the masking tape, vacuum up the carpet strands, put curtains back up, and do as much as I can physically do before Mr. J comes home to finish the rest. 

It feels so good and I don’t mean just that it feels good to have new paint and new carpet (although that is very good!) I mean it feels good to physically work. Being a professor and writer much of my work is mental instead of physical. Before Grizelda I hated physical work which is probably why I ended up a professor and a writer. But one of the things being bedridden after brain surgery and the ensuring radiation taught me is what a blessing it is to be able to work hard.

I still have to pace myself, but as my heart gets pumping and I see things getting done I find myself saying a prayer of thanks that I can work. I’m converted. Being able to work is a wonderful blessing.

I love to work!

Oh, What a Day I Had

I know I told you I would get back to the individual Truth Tools today, but I must diverge again and tell you about yesterday. Ever since my surgery and the radiation on Grizelda, I’ve struggled a great deal with regaining my stamina. Since the surgery in December of 2008, I’ve had to rest often and couldn’t work the way I used to. In addition Grizelda herself gave me problems.

Before the surgery I used to walk with a group of friends every morning. They were all younger than I am and they walked at a good, fast clip. After the surgery and radiation the doctor told me not to exercise strenuously, but when I thought I was ready, I met them and walked with them one morning. About a fourth of the way I began to feel a great deal of pressure behind my left eye, the place Grizelda resides, and with every heart beat I could feel the pressure increase. But I kept pushing until suddenly with every heart beat my vision would go blank like when you blink only I wasn’t blinking. That scared me and so I slowed down and cut through the park telling the others I’d meet them on the other side. I was concerned but didn’t want to alarm the others so I just fell behind and walked slowly home, but it took three days for the pressure to go down in my head and when I told the doctor about this he chastised me and told me not to do anything that got my heart pumping like that.

In addition, I couldn’t put my head down because the blood would flow into Grizelda and build up pressure. This meant I couldn’t garden. For the past two summers whenever I tried to bend over and pull weeds I’d feel the pressure and the other problems. At first I thought, “Oh good! I have an excuse not to garden.”

But lately the pressure has been less and with the last MRI being so encouraging, I decided to work in the garden yesterday. And did I ever work! We have a large yard and I spent four solid hours clearing out an area that during the past two years had become overgrown. I cut back bushes and trees and pulled weeds like a mad woman. I did have a young man from the ward help me with the heavy things, but I worked like I haven’t worked in two years and it was WONDERFUL!

The interesting thing is that I found myself several times spontaneously breaking out in prayer and thanking God that I could work. If you had asked me three years ago if I’d someday be thankful to work I’d have laughed at you. I used to think having an excuse not to work would be the greatest blessing! How wrong I was. I loved feeling my muscles stretched to full capacity. I loved feeling the sweat on my body. I loved the feel of my lungs sucking deep and hard for air. I loved watching the insects up close, and even loved the feel of the rose bush thorns pricking my skin. I loved looking at a task and thinking, “Can I do this?” then after it was done basking in the satisfaction of knowing I’d done it.

It short, it was an amazing day filled to the brim and overflowing with pure joy. Hard work is a gift, and I hope I never again take it for granted or try to wish it away. What I realized is that when working hard at something good and with the right attitude, we are smack dab in the middle of the Realm of Truth where joy and peace abound.