Happily Ever After: The Life-Changing Power of a Grateful Heart (23 page)

If you are stuck in a profession where you can’t see eye to eye with the people you face day to day, or you are just plain unhappy, try to channel the late comedian George Burns, who once said, “I’d rather be a failure at something I love than a success at something I hate.” Put effort into pushing the occupational clouds out of the way so that your dream job can be revealed. Ask yourself what you regret not pursuing—what you always thought about doing but were too afraid to fail—and write it down. If
you do that, you will have taken the first necessary step toward making it a reality. Now keep going, one foot after the other, at whatever pace you can handle, and I have no doubt you’ll get there.

Before I had kids, I worked in direct sales for a company called B’s Purses. I did home parties where ladies could customize their own handbag, tote, or clutch. I learned the ropes from my sorority sister Angela, who was not only the sister of the founder but the rep with the most success. As new reps joined and worked “under” me, I took all her tips and tricks and passed them on, hoping to also pass on the success that Angela had helped me achieve. Yes, I earned a small percentage from their sales, but it wasn’t about the extra bit of money. We were all part of a team and didn’t let competition get the best of us. Instead, we focused on helping each other—offering up advice and assistance and celebrating one another’s victories through encouragement and mentorship. It was a great job because we made it great, and you have the ability to do the same. Create an enjoyable work environment through the choices you make and the support you give, and you can make your job great too.

We Are All Connected

The life I touch for good or ill will touch another life, and that in turn another, until who knows where the trembling stops or in what far place my touch will be felt.

—F
REDERICK
B
UECHNER

CHAPTER EIGHT

T
HE WEB OF CONNECTIONS WE ALL WEAVE IS TANGLED
with causes and effects. Whether direct or indirect, known or unknown, our links to others can drastically influence the path people choose for their lives, the attitudes they embrace, and the actions they take as they face their future.

We all live in our own little sections of the world, but each of us has the power to reach beyond our own borders and touch other lives, no matter how far away. A study published in the
Proceedings of the National Academy of Science
confirms it. The researchers found that if someone behaves generously, up to three degrees of others feel inspired to spread that altruistic spirit at a later date, to different people. That means one person can inspire generosity in three people, and those three people can inspire it in nine people, and those nine people can inspire it in twenty-seven, and so on and on. We can’t control all the ripples caused by our pebble’s effect on the world’s body of water, but we know they’re there, even if the pebble fell so softly that the ripples can’t be seen.

Moving forward, think of the effect you have on the world and its effect on you. We are all touched by others. We all have the power to connect and the power to affect. It’s up to you to use that power wisely.

G
RACE
U
NDER
F
IRE

Each year, Americans give about $300 billion to charitable causes in hopes of effecting positive change, whether in their community or on the far side of the world. However, there aren’t any statistics for the countless lives that have been altered by kind words, a gentle touch, a listening ear, a random act of kindness, a beautiful vision, or a fearless deed of generosity. We do know that they happen, though.

StoryCorps (
StoryCorps.org
), a national radio documentary project that has archived more than 40,000 stories of American individuals, recorded one of my favorite examples of an extraordinary gesture of goodwill. It’s the story of a social worker named Julio Diaz.

In 2008, Diaz was riding the subway on his way home to the Bronx from work, planning to stop at his regular diner for dinner. His plans were drastically changed when a teenager sprang out at him, pulled a knife, and demanded that Diaz hand over his money.

Diaz watched as the teen walked away with his wallet. Instead of thanking his lucky stars that he wasn’t physically injured, Diaz did something that would never cross most of our minds—he called out to his assailant, “Hey, wait a minute. You forgot something. If you’re going to be robbing people for the rest of the night, you might as well take my coat to keep you warm.”

Then he did something even more unimaginable: he invited the young man to join him for dinner. A warm coat, and now a hot meal? The stunned boy agreed. At the restaurant, the teen noted how friendly his victim was to everyone who worked there, from the waitress to the dishwasher.

He asked Diaz if he owned the restaurant.

“No,” Diaz said.

“Then why are you so nice to everyone?”

“That’s how I was raised.”

The boy was shocked, thinking,
People actually live like that?

The bill came, but the teen still had the stolen wallet. Surprisingly, he returned it, and Diaz kept his promise to pay for dinner. He then handed his mugger twenty dollars. Following Diaz’s lead, the teen handed over his knife. Hopefully, he never used one in a potentially violent situation again.

To me, this story is a poignant illustration of what Benjamin Disraeli, a British prime minister, once said: “The greatest good you can do for another is not just to share your riches but to reveal to him his own.”

Julio Diaz made a conscious and brave decision to lend a hand and impart an important life lesson to someone who could’ve easily killed him that day. He chose kindness toward a stranger over fear and self-preservation. I don’t know that I could be as courageous or as trusting in someone who took advantage of me in such a frightening way, but I will remember the message of this inspiring story and attempt to follow its noble example.

J
OINED AT THE
S
OCIAL
H
IP

Whether in the media or my blogs, social media posts, or this book, I’ve always been open to sharing my battles and victories with anyone interested to know them. It’s my way of both shouting my happy moments from the rooftops and also letting those who may be experiencing similar battles
know that they aren’t alone and that they shouldn’t give up hope. The story of my and Ryan’s difficulties in getting pregnant is no different.

During that time, I got letters not only from friends but also from people I had never met who wished me well and thanked me for sharing my story—something many in the public eye are understandably hesitant to do for fear of judgment or to maintain some semblance of privacy. Hearing that someone else in the universe was experiencing a struggle like theirs gave them the inspiration to keep fighting and make their own baby dreams come true. I can’t put into words how much these connections touched my heart, but something Herman Melville once said comes pretty close: “We cannot live only for ourselves. A thousand fibers connect us with our fellow men; and among those fibers, as sympathetic threads, our actions run as causes, and they come back to us as effects.”

Now, in our age of social media, we are connected like never before. At a moment’s notice, we can catch up with what just about anyone in the world is up to or reach out to them via their website, blog, Twitter page, or Facebook wall. I use the gift of this generation’s technological advances to interact with people from all over the world. I don’t have an assistant who poses as me online. I respond personally to specific questions or interesting comments while snuggling with my Disney Junior–loving kids, on road trips (as a passenger, of course), or during any other moment I can bury my face in my phone. The best part: I almost always get a thank-you in return.

This medium and its ability to allow us to connect to those we’ve never met has also given me cherished gifts. Take, for example, this Facebook message I received back in October 2009. Cheryl Church wrote,

How wonderful to name your daughter Blakesley!!! I work at Purdue and had the pleasure of watching your grandparents walk through campus every day holding hands. Now that they have moved to assisted living, I miss seeing them. They have to be thrilled with your choice of name. Your grandparents showed everyone here what love was all about. How proud you must be of them . . . and your children. God bless you all.

I responded with a message of deep thanks for letting me in on something so touching and beautiful. I certainly was incredibly proud of my grandparents and the legacy of love they have created (which was a big reason we chose them to be our daughter’s namesake). I still am and always will be. Without technology, I most likely would never have heard her story or been given such a moving tribute to my heritage. That’s just another reason that (as my husband says) I’m addicted to my computer.

Even though we may never have lunch with Twitter followers, Facebook friends, or visitors to our blogs or websites, we can still share information and stories, as well as ask questions and get answers from those with shared experiences. We can enlighten a person’s day, get help with a frustrating issue, or offer a sympathetic hand to someone experiencing a hard time. Thanks to social media, we can do all that and more.

S
ECOND
C
HANCES

There have been times in my life when I connected with someone the moment we were first introduced. Jennifer Carter is one of those people.

One day in 2006, when Ryan and I had tried what felt like everything short of in-vitro fertilization, I received a call
from a friendly voice. Jen introduced herself, explaining that she worked for a company that had patented a device called the OV-Watch, and said that after hearing of our struggles, she thought it could help us achieve our dream of becoming parents. Not only did OV-Watch end up playing a key role in educating me on my prime ovulation days, which ultimately facilitated my journey to pregnancy, but I also gained a close friend. And the connection had even greater implications down the road.