Prescription for Joy

I've been in a bit of a slump lately. Had a weird virus thing, and on top of it had three, yes THREE, Freddy Krueger-ish periods in one month.

I am peri-menopausal, hear me roar.

I've also been feeling a bit blue about illness, death, and divorce happening in my loving circle.

Yesterday I did a specific meditation. I breathed in love on my inhalation, and breathed out stress on my exhalation. I asked how I could be of service, and how I could amp up my mojo.

What came to me is: Change is the truth of life. Nothing is going wrong. Be love.

Afterward, I went into this amazing backyard and swung on this swing:

Where we are housesitting (in Rancho Palos Verdes, California).

Then I hula hooped. Swinging and hooping, I was no longer a 52-year-old woman; I was a timeless child.

Later, on a walk, I saw a woman struggling to pull one of three refuse cans up her steep driveway. I thought about how my mom always said, "If you want to feel better, help someone out."

Then I thought, I might frighten her if I grab one of her garbage cans and haul it up to her house. She's going to think I'm a murderer or a Jehovah's Witness.

So I said, "Hi! Would you like some help? It'll be my Random Act of Kindness."

She laughed and said, "Sure!"

So I lugged her garbage can up, and she smiled and said, "Thanks." I bounded down the road feeling the best I had in a long time.

We are here on this housesit the month of September. I think my daily routine is going to be this:

* meditate
* swing
* hula hoop
* write
* perform a random act of kindness.

It's hard to think of a better prescription for joy.