I come bearing love.
In particular, I come bearing love letter #1, the first installment of the Love Letter Project. This week, we are talking about where the magic happens, how happiness is born, and dirt. Yes, dirt.
You see, I’ve spent a lot of time trying to understand where the magic happens. In essence, I’ve been doing fieldwork for the past 3 years: exploring where feeling great comes from, and digging into the spaces where grace, spark, flow, and happy are born. And I’ve learned a lot.
I’ve learned that we have to start with love and compassion.
I’ve learned we need clean water, and good food that nourishes our individual bodies.
On top of that, we need sun, fresh air, and fun.
And really, we need to be authentic—with ourselves and with others.
As far as I can tell, these are facts. But while all of these provide the right conditions for happy—they don’t always make happy happen. I was missing an ingredient, and it’s been frustrating me for months.
But this weekend, I found it:
Allow me to explain.
This weekend, I saw someone I love be ugly. They used their wisdom to tear down instead of to build up. It was heartbreaking, and clearly it was the opposite of magic.
They had, unknowingly, placed themselves on a pedestal, and assumed that due to their knowledge and experience they had the right to judge other people. It was terrible to see, alienating to experience, and it made me feel distinctly disconnected.
Afterwards, as I was driving to yoga, it hit me like a pillow to the chest: the missing ingredient in the recipe for happiness is connection. And to connect, you need to consciously place yourself on the same level as the people around you. Now let me be clear: being on the same level is not a matter of “lowering yourself down” or “raising yourself up”. That’s total bullshit.
It’s having the presence, clarity, and willingness to listen and attempt to understand. It’s about coming from a place of love and discernment, and leaving the judgement and “shoulds” out of it. That’s where grace is born: in the willingness to connect.
The weekend had a happy ending, by the way. I taught some yoga, formulated some clear thoughts, and then communicated them as precisely, lovingly, and without drama as possible. Immediately, the air was cleared, good vibes bloomed, and fun was had by all.
So here’s the moral of the story, babycakes: the magic of life happens when you get down off the high horse, and get into the dirt. That’s where all the love is, and that’s where I’ll be.