Happiness

Last weekend I read and reviewed a book by a woman, about my age, who lives with Bipolar. We exchanged a few emails. The weekend before I tweeted to a woman who has been a ‘mum’ to a child who has grown into the body of a man, but with the mind of a toddler.

These are remarkable heroines with incredible strength and I am blessed to have their lives intersect with mine, even so briefly. I am changed just by knowing them.

Everyone knows that likes attract so I humbly pondered how I got here.

Long ago, I remember my first foray into goal-setting. I had chastised a younger worker for his shoddy work on the repair of a video tape machine. My boss figured I needed a few lessons in how to deal with people and sent me off to a Dale Carnegie course. About the same time, the company decided we needed to be more productive, and a few of us headed off to NYC for a course in Time Management.

Of course, they sent me home with brochures to buy tapes, (it was the eighties), and more self-help tapes. I gobbled everything down because I was starving. I was thirty, stuck in a job I hated, had two young kids, a mortgage, and no way out. I cried a lot.

It took a lot of hard work to change my thoughts but I did. After my thoughts changed, my life changed, and here I am.

Where am I? Content. Not complacent, by any means, but most of the time, pretty happy.

When I need to ‘pay it forward,’ I write about strong women, facing adversity. A romance is the perfect place to do it. If thoughts become reality, (and I believe they do), then my life’s goal is to empower women as they imagine themselves as my heroines.

That makes me happy.