Little bitty lesson: Dating isn't for single people

For those of us who are married, the word "dating" brings up all kinds of memories, horror stories, laughs, the rolling of eyes, and maybe even regrets. I catch myself sometimes saying "I'm so glad I don't have to date anymore!" And I think that sentiment of disdain comes from the stress that came from seeking and not finding, and of trying to put my best foot forward without being disingenuous. It's hard enough in this life to answer the question "Who am I?" But to add that identity crisis to "Who am I when I am with this other person?" makes life sometimes impossibly challenging.

Kissing frogs became tiring and I'd all but given up by the time I went on that one date that changed my life -- the night I met Robert.

Tonight, 19 months after our wedding day, Robert and I are going on a date. I bought a new dress, and we're going to a wonderful restaurant, and we'll be cuddling up at home later on to watch a funny movie. Dating is more fun when you're married -- it's less stressful, more controllable, and infinitely more meaningful.

If you're in love with someone -- perhaps someone you married 20 years ago -- I urge you not to think of "dating" as something that precedes and then ends with marriage. Take your spouse out on a date tonight. And do it again next week. Dating, in its most beautiful incarnation, isn't really for single people at all. It's for those of us who already know the warmth of holding each other's hands. And it's for those who know that a "date" isn't about a day, or a season. It's about a lifetime.

Little bitty lessons: Bite-sized blog posts

There are two kinds of blogs that I really value: Long blogs and short blogs. I've always been drawn to the long, languid blogs -- the ones that are deep and thoughtful musings about large issues, with multiple links and anecodotes. These are the kinds of blogs I like to read on a Sunday afternoon, and to talk about with my friends. When I started blogging, this is the kind of blog series I wanted to write.

But there is also another great blogging strategy -- short and sweet. I like those kinds of blogs too. Like Seth Godin's blog, which is usually no more than two or three paragraphs of insight (but is occasionally indulgent).

So I've decided to have my cake (gluten-free, of course) and eat it too. Once a week, I'll post a longer piece -- the kind you've come to expect from me; those pieces will always have titles that start with "Learning to ..." On a more frequent basis, I'll post bite-sized blog posts, and will call those "Little bitty lessons."

Today's little bitty lesson?

Cake is not just dessert. It's family, and hospitality, and love.

Yesterday, my husband baked a two-layer yellow cake with fudge frosting. It made me feel loved. And for those of us who don't eat gluten, this is a special treat thanks to companies like Betty Crocker. But beyond the sugar rush I enjoyed, I realized that cake has a special power. The beauty of it, on display under a classic glass dome, perched on top of our kitchen island, inspires many things. It made me want to be a better neighbor, and to clean the rest of the kitchen to rise to the occasion. And it made me breathe more deeply today, in hopes to catch another waft of that heavenly, buttery smell in the air.

I had two friends visit today, and I offered them both cake. They happily obliged my hospitality. My second visitor stopped by unexpectedly, so I felt particularly pleased with myself for being ready to welcome her with home-baked goodness.

This past December, my grandmother passed away. She always had a cookie jar (appropriately shaped like a big smiley face), brimming with treats for her visitors. And while I don't know if I'll ever be someone's grandmother, I hope to bring that same kind of simple joy to others.

Grandma had a cookie jar and I have a cake dome. And those simple gestures could quite possibly make the world a better place.

Learning to be joyful...

What makes you joyful?

This is a question that stumps me. I recently sat down to make a list of the things that infuse me with joy, and I found myself staring at a blank sheet of paper for longer than I'd like to admit. Perhaps it's because I've been so busy amassing education, climbing the corporate ladder and living the "American dream" (i.e., building a house, planning a wedding, planting a lilac bush), that all of my plans and activities started crowding out the thing that makes life worth living -- joy.

Don't get me wrong -- I'm not an unhappy person. I love my husband, and I get great satisfaction out of my job, and I live in a nice house. There's not an overwhelming amount of drama surrounding my family or friends, and most of the crying I do has more to do with sappy movies or heart-wrenching books than it does with personal suffering or despair. So why am I not more joyful?

Back to Basics

I think true, unabashed joy is what makes us giggle with abandon, jump up and down, want to high-five someone, and smile or laugh until it hurts. Spend a day observing young children, and you'll see what joy is all about. It's been said that children laugh, on average, more than 300 times per day. Adults, on the other hand, laugh about 15 times per day. How is it that age has made us so cynical and conditional about how we feel and share our joy?

Don't we deserve to be joyful more often? I certainly think so.

Eventually, I wrote down a few things on that blank piece of paper. Here's what I came up with:

1. Puppies [little, roly-poly puppies that are hopping around the yard or the living room like bunnies, yawning with that innocent little squeaky noise they make, or licking your face with abandon]


2. Singing -- usually loudly and badly, to joyful songs like Paolo Nutini's New Shoes; sometimes, this kind of singing is accompanied by silly dancing in my kitchen


3. Writing [but not all writing, mind you -- business writing can be satisfying, but writing for ME, whether it's a blog post, a poem, an essay or a short story, is what makes me joyful]


4. Being tickled


5. Deep laughter [the kind that happens when I hang out with my childhood friend, Michelle, or when I go to a comedy club]


6. Little surprises [like coming home to discover my husband has made my favorite dinner, or winning a few dollars on a scratch-off lottery ticket]


7. Exhilarating accomplishment [like reaching a mountain summit after a long hike, or crossing the finish line of a race]


8. Teaching [go figure -- little miss "No Book, No Classroom" is happiest in the classroom

A Strategy for Joy

So I've decided that, in addition to my strategies for my career, my financial investments, etc., I'm going to craft a strategy for joy. Here's what my initial draft includes:

• More puppies. Because my shelties are now more than a year old, and it's not practical to get a new puppy each time the last one loses her "puppy breath," -- which reminds me of some women I know, who get pregnant every time their most recent baby abandons his pacifier -- I'm going to do things to keep my dogs young (like training them for agility competition), and maybe I'll volunteer at a veterinary hospital too.


• More singing. My new iPod will help in this endeavor. And if you ever see me driving on I-94, I hope the sillyness of me belting out a song behind my windshield makes you joyful too.


• More time with friends, more pillow fights, and more trips to Zanies. (I have a colleague who recently started performing stand-up comedy, but I think I'd be happier in the audience.)


• More exhilaration. We're planning a summer vacation, and I think I'd like to go back to New Hampshire's beautiful White Mountains, to climb again. And it's about time that I started training for another stair marathon. Hustle Up the Hancock, anyone?


• More teaching. I love my job as a marketing director -- it's enjoyable and a good application of my talents and experience. But I'd like to balance my day job with more time in the classroom. Last week, I had the opportunity to teach a business communications seminar for a group of employees at WMS Gaming. They were fantastic participants -- full of great suggestions and questions, and willing to be vulnerable and playful as we learned together. I left the training room and did something I don't do often enough -- I high-fived my colleague from the Corporate Education division of Lake Forest Graduate School of Management.

You Deserve More

You, too, deserve more joy in your life. More giggles and more high-fives. And more dancing in your kitchen. Take a few minutes to make your Joyful List, and get working on a strategy for seeking more joy. Not next month or next year or when you retire. More joy, right now. And I have a funny feeling that the more you focus on your own joy, the more your friends and loved ones will feel joyful too.