The BRIGHT SPOT Awards: Day 004

Saturday, February 6, 2021

Recipient: 
Mark, the whistling mail carrier, Platt Park, Denver

I was out for a walk with my sweetheart Mike today when I heard a wonderfully robust whistle coming from who knows where. Turns out it was a mail carrier, walking from house to house, whistling a tune I couldn’t identify but could hear from a block away.

My whistling is wispy and unimpressive, so it tickles me pink to hear someone who’s got the goods.

I hurried to catch up with him as Mike, accustomed to this sort of behavior from me, trailed behind. The purveyor of post took out his earbuds to listen as I asked his name and explained what I was up to and why. Mark told us he was listening to a live (authorized) recording of an Elton John concert he had actually attended a few years back. We were catching him whistling along to “Bennie and the Jets” and reliving a good memory. We thanked him for his time and the entertainment, and he returned to his route and his music.

Bonus:

The person who created the “Private Eyes” sign, Platt Park, Denver

We passed this on our return trip. Having had a poster of this image on my bedroom wall as a tween (Darryl Hall was so dreamy), it immediately caught my attention. Reading the text caused me an out-loud cackle-snort and I had to leave an award in the mailbox. As it turns out, the people were just exiting as I turned toward their house. The woman was quite pleased that we enjoyed the parody. “My husband said nobody would get it!” Madam, we most certainly did. 

Thoughts:
Moments of connection are out there, little miracles waiting to happen.
A spoonful of humor helps the message go down.

 

 

  

The BRIGHT SPOT Awards: Day 003

Friday, February 5, 2021

Recipient: 
Suzette @ IKEA Bistro, Centennial

Today’s recipient was whipping up cones and doling out cinnamon buns at the little bistro at IKEA, where I went in search of tea lights and taper candles.

Cashiers and sales associates hold a special place in my heart. Working in the service industry exposes you to treatment that can range from neglectful to disdainful to abusive, as if customers forget that they’re standing in front of a human being who has a story and has value. When the person at the counter still greets you with a warm smile while the line is five deep on either end, that person deserves an award.

I would have liked to have taken her picture. 

I would have liked to have asked her about her story.

Alas, while well-intentioned, doing so would have caused her delays and made her job more difficult. So I placed my order, handed her the slip of cardstock, and moved on.

Thoughts:

It’s not about me.

Sometimes a picture of the parking garage is the best you can do.

The BRIGHT SPOT Awards: Day 002

Thursday, February 4, 2021

Recipient: 
Unknown neighbor with ceramic bird, Platt Park

Second day, first conundrum:

There are days when I don’t leave the house.

(Yes, it’s a terrible idea. Extroverts make lousy hermits.)

Now I’ve got to walk out the door and find a stranger. I put on thirty-six layers to go for a chilly stroll in my neighborhood. Where I do not pass one. single. living. soul.

I do, however, pass a little aqua ceramic bird someone has affixed to a platform under a tree and which I have admired on other walks. I grab that bit of cardstock and write on it an additional note:

Every time I pass your little bird, it gives me a smile!

Now, where do I leave the note? On the platform, under a stone so it won’t blow away? What if there's snow and it gets wrecked? Will the owner ever even see it? Maybe I can find the owner’s house and pop the note into their mailbox.

I settle upon the most likely candidate.

The house does not have a mailbox at a safe distance on their sidewalk, but a mail slot.

Which can only be accessed by walking up their front stairs to their front door.

Ohdear. In for a penny, in for a pound.

With note, best intentions, and all the nerve I can gather in hand, I pop that note into their mail slot and move away in my most nonchalant what-who-me-no-not-committing-a-crime-nothing-to-see-here-sort of manner.

Thoughts:
When the going gets tough, the tough get creative.
A bright spot can be a person, place, or thing. Just like a noun.

The BRIGHT SPOT Awards: Day 001

Wednesday, February 3, 2021

Recipient(s): 
Alex and Allie at Starbucks / King Soopers, University

My intention was to use my Starbucks reward points to get a beverage and then buy a breakfast sandwich. I gave my order for a bacon gouda sandwich and the most expensive coffee drink I could cobble together in a size that wouldn’t make me ill to consume. Alex and Allie then let me know about a special they had going – free drink with any breakfast sandwich! They helped me save points and provided friendly service. Win-win.

I handed them the award. Well, it was a slip of cardstock hand-stamped with a design I created myself and the following sentiment written inside:

Thank you for being a bright spot in my day.
Wishing you all good things,
Michelle

Thoughts:
Momentum rocks! The day I had the idea was the same day I handed out my first award. It’s a good start.
Even a little gesture can make a big impact.
Cultivating an appreciation for small joys opens up innumerable opportunities for happiness.

Introducing The BRIGHT SPOT Awards: A 100-Day Challenge

 

Have you ever heard yourself think something sooooooo many times that you felt like telling yourself to stuff a sock in it?
 
I arrived at that peevish place with myself recently. 

The irritating bit of mental grit was this:
“I love talking to strangers.”
 
Well, duh.
I know that.
Everyone – anyone – who has known me for five minutes could tell you that.
And I have known for a long, long time that not only do I want to have those experiences, but I also want to share those experiences with other people via some artistic project.
 
So when those words happily ambled through my cerebrum for the umpteen-trillionth time, I’d had it.
 
“Oh, this again. ‘I love talking to strangers, blah blah blah.’ I’m sick of hearing it. So WHAT? What are you going to DO about it?”
 
[cue lightning strike]
 
I decided to give myself a challenge:
For 100 days, if a stranger did anything (directly or indirectly) that made me smile I would give them a little handwritten note thanking them for being a bright spot in my day.
 
“It’s got talking to strangers, it’s got gratitude, it’s got paper arts – three of my favorite things. Perfect! Right up my alley!”
 
Naturally, everything went very smoothly from there. I handed out one award every single day, I made scrupulously detailed notes, and I promptly posted those findings on this here blog.
 
[cue crickets]
 
What, no takers?
…
 
Fine. That’s not quite what happened.
My intention going forward is to write some catch-up posts to document my experiences up to this point.
Stay tuned!

Michelle on the Rise

I always re-read the prior post before writing a new one. Entertaining, that. 

It’s like a time capsule as these posts come at long intervals. This time, it’s more like looking through a lens into a different universe.
Note the date: Friday, February 14, 2020.
[Cue “Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down)” from Hamilton.]

From the narrow lens of my personal life (layoff, relocation, cohabitation, parenting) to the wide angle of the globe (pandemic, social unrest, environmental emergencies, volatile economics, contentious political climate, murder hornets) everything has changed. Then again, maybe it would be more accurate to say that the Universe has reminded us that change is the only constant.

Question: When the chalkboard has been erased, and the snow globe of life has been thoroughly shaken, what's a gal to do? 

Answer: She reinvents herself, of course.

To that end, I am participating in a class facilitated by Jana Van der Veer (writing/book coach extraordinaire, https://www.setyourmuseonfire.com/) called Fanning the Flames: Using Writing to Make Your Goals and Dreams Happen. She is teaching us that writing is a way to discover or excavate your dreams. We are learning to move closer to those dreams by uncovering what our dreams mean to us, by visualizing what they look like in fine detail, and by navigating self-sabotage. We are a small and mighty cohort exploring what it might look like to design our lives with greater intention.

So far, so good. 

I realized that I want to feel connected, alive, immersed, balanced, joyful, and grateful every day.
Connected…taking good care of my relationships and being open to communing with people I meet.
Alive…doing things that give me a thrill, or make me feel exhilarated, and appreciating that feeling.
Immersed…being present in whatever I’m doing at the moment.
Balanced…taking time to fill the well, which in turn helps me feel centered emotionally, mentally, physically.
Joyful…being open to delight, making space in my heart for gladness, and spreading it around to others.
Grateful…taking time to appreciate life’s many blessings.
 
The crazy part: I’d forgotten that I actually have control in these matters. 

It’s up to me to do the things that help me feel the things.
If I want to feel balanced, I need to take time to meditate. If I want to feel grateful, I need to write in my gratitude journal. If I want to feel connected, I need to call my mom or take ten minutes to snuggle with my honey. (Progress! I’ve incorporated these things into my life during the past week and I’m feeling the effects already.)

A more concrete desire cropped up over and over in my writing – to revive this blog – so here I am. And because “don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good” was the rallying cry of my last post, even if this one turns out to be as dull as dry toast, I’m committed to hitting publish. (Feel free to blame Jana entirely if you agree.)

New Year, New Post

I was updating my Blogger profile picture when I happened to notice the total number of posts I've written:
17.

Then I looked at the date of my first post:
May 3, 2008.

Oh dear.

I've only written 17 posts in the last almost 12 years? Why bother to continue?

Honestly, I'm not sure.

For whatever reason, I want to keep going. I want to start a regular writing practice. I think I can do it this time. (Surely I can improve upon my once-a-year track record.)

My secret weapon? A notion introduced to me by Gretchen Rubin on her Happier podcast:

Don't let the perfect be the enemy of the good.

An imperfectly worded post once a week might just be better than a meticulously crafted post published never.

I will allow myself the freedom to write and release. And because the idea of committing to a regular schedule makes me want to crawl out of my skin*, I'll tell myself that I don't have to; I'll just write when I feel like it.

* In GR's Four Tendencies framework, this is a classic Rebel sentiment. Every time I take the quiz, though, the results are either Rebel or Questioner. Maybe the fact that I've taken the quiz multiple times points to Questioner?
Gretchen, feel free to weigh in!