Yes. I'm Happy.

Dear Readers,

I'm happy.

I'm not happy all of the time. I have a down day now and again. Usually, when I have a down day, it's not caused by any one issue. Or any one person. In fact, I often have a hard time putting a finger on it. I know that it won't last long. I know that it's not within my emotional control (ladies, you understand). And I know that it's not who I am.

Because fundamentally, to my core, I am happy.

In my Savvy Auntie Editor's Letter this week, entitled: My Own Happiness (August 9, 2009) , I write about how once I reached 40 and didn't have the things expected of a happy woman (marriage and children) that I would be unhappy.

But a funny thing happened on the way to turning 40. I became happy.

Here's why. Two years ago, I set out to live life to my potential. Two years ago, I decided to stop resisting my life because of what was not happening TO me. Just a month before I decided to start my own company, I told a friend offering me a part of his business to run, that I had to focus on getting married and having kids, not starting a business.

Just ONE MONTH before I decided to start Savvy Auntie I said NO to a creative opportunity handed to me. Handed to me!

What changed in one month? What changed was that I became determined to no longer struggle for a life that was not happening TO me, and began embracing the life I could create.

In essence, I got a life. My life.

My lesson for you, Dear Reader:

Do what you love, and you will always have success. Do what other people would love you to do, and you will always have regrets.

And here's the bonus! I had no IDEA that creating a life of potential would give me happiness. I imagined working as hard as I have for the last two years and not dating as much as I'd prefer. I imagined not being able to afford the clothes and shoes I used to buy. I imagined not eating out anywhere near as much, and not taking vacations.

What I imagined was right.

I work very hard. And yet, even with the most challenging of tasks, I know that each step I take is going up the ladder of my potential.

I don't date much. In a good way. I've become more selective; I don't date where I don't see potential or at least some fun. It's empowering to choose whom you date and not let the dates choose you.

I can't afford to buy the clothes and shoes that I love (my revenue goes back into my business/dream/potential). And by NOT buying these materialistic things, I am MORE fulfilled. I don't need them to feel confident anymore.

I don't eat out nearly as much as I used to. And when I do, it's often to eat alone. I treat myself to breakfast, lunch or dinner and a good book so that I can regroup, refocus and show myself some gratitude.

I don't take vacations to Europe or the country. Instead, I take day trips to clear my head, or get inspired. I don't miss packing and flying and sleeping in hotel rooms.

The one thing I did imagine that did not come true was happiness. I did believe I'd be happy. But I didn't know that happiness would no longer be a state of mind. It would be part of my spirit. Happiness would be so indelibly tied to my heart and soul that I would not and could not imagine my life any other way.

It's my happiness. It's the only happiness I have ever known.

It's the only happiness that has even known me.

We're still getting to know each other, my happiness and I - like an identical twin separated at birth. She knows me better than I know myself.

I'm beginning to trust she's never going away.

And dare I say it, she's beautiful.

XOXO,
Auntie Melanie

Wait for it....

Dear Readers,

Since it's Back to School season, I thought it was a good time to mention the two greatest lessons I ever learned, from the greatest woman I ever knew: my mom.

Once upon a time, a very long time ago, I was four. I was four and turning five. I was four and turning a "very important number" as I recall stating emphatically on the very day I turned five. There was something magical about the age of five for me. Perhaps it was just because it was 'bigger' than four. Or perhaps it was half a decade (although I doubt I knew what a decade was at four). Perhaps I recalled my older brother being five at one time before me, and thought that was really "big."

Whatever the case, it was winter time and I was clumsily putting on the big rubber boots that went over my shoes, as children did in Montreal, Canada, in the wintertime...clumsily because after all, I was four-not-yet-five, and I remember looking over to my much-adored mother (who always enabled my independence and did not reach over to help me less-clumsily put on my boots- exactly as I would have wanted it) and said, rather excitedly: "I can't wait until I'm five. Five is a very big number."

To which my mother exclaimed, rather disappointingly: "Don't wish your life away."

And then exactly 15 years later, I wished her life back again. And remembered never again to wish my life away. Not a year. Not a month. Not a week. Not a day. Not an hour. Not a minute (with exception of getting my teeth cleaned and other unpleasant moments with people in white coats.) I do not wish my life away. 

But I do wish I were four-not-quite-five again. Just so I could ask my mommy for help with my rubber boots. Seems like I needed more guidance from her than I thought.

And then there was lesson number two, which came about five years later, when I was not quite a teen. My mother read a poem to me, which I did not know was famous, by a poet whose name reminded me of the Holiday season, Robert Frost. The poem was....

The Road Not Taken

She made me memorize it. And I did. Never knowing why. Still, today, not knowing why my mother, who did not necessarily choose her own road less traveled, chose that particlar poem for me to memorize. But I did:

I shall be telling this with a sigh   
Somewhere ages and ages hence:   
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—   
I took the one less traveled by,   
And that has made all the difference.

Now at 10 or so, I did not know there was a life-lesson here for me. But I did fall in love with the poem too. Perhaps because it was a gift from my mother. Perhaps it was the beauty and the rythm of it. Or the frosty warmth it evoked. Or the fact that I, other that just memorizing the poem, could actually choose a road less traveled. One day. When I was big-and-not-just-ten.

As an Aunt by Choice, I sent a girlfriend's daughter a list of things to think about as she turned 16. One of those lessons was to live her dream. And if she didn't know what her dream was yet, to wait for it. It was coming.

Two years ago, I did not have the dream to create SavvyAuntie.com. But I knew I had a dream coming... and believe me, in my early mid late 30's, I was growing impatient for it to come, taking jobs I thought might be my dream job. But then I found myself year after year, job after job, taking the same road. Leading the same path.

Then one day, two roads diverged in my world: to keep the search for a job, sort of same job, different office, or forge out on my own... take the road less traveled.

My dream was before me. And I took it.

And for that very reason, there is no doubt, no moment, no week, no day, no minute that I wish my life away.

These are my lessons, for you, Dear Reader. If you find yourself wishing your work day away, take a walk. Find a woods. Begin your journey. Follow your dreams.

And if you do not know what your dream is yet, wait for it. It's coming.

And that will make all the difference.

XOXO,
Auntie Melanie

(Oh and PS, please vote for me to be in the Hot Blogger Calendar! http://hotbloggercalendar.com/vote-hottest-female Thanks!!)