My father always seemed to delight in annoying my sister and me when we were children. He would take us someplace wonderful, such as a carnival or amusement park, send us on the ride of our choice, and at the end of the ride, never failed to ask, “Are you having fun?”
With much eye-rolling, we would answer, “Yes, Dad.”
He’d laugh and retort, “Tell your faces!”
I never fully understood this then.
My husband and one of his best friends have a game they like to play, which involves the two of them walking down the street and smiling at people – No big deal, no words, just simple smiles. The first one to get a smile in return wins. They claim they have never won.
This always struck me as odd, because I felt that people always smiled at me. Recently, however, I have become aware of the many people who don’t return my near-permanent expression of greeting. At first, I felt frustrated and sad about not getting smiles, but now, I feel bad for the people who can’t even manage to tell their faces to cheer up a bit. Every time I see a dour expression, I am reminded that not everyone knows how to find joy in their lives, and am thankful for the happiness I have in mine.
This feeling was driven home by a horrible man who recently assaulted one of our writers at an LA charity event. After several days of thought, our writer decided not to burden herself with the stress pressing charges would entail, and instead will just let the unfortunate incident fade away to a distant memory.
I really have to wonder, though, how bad this man’s life must be, that he would attack a woman in full view of cameras and other recording equipment. How removed from himself and his ability to find happiness must he be for this to happen?
Reminding myself that I have found a greater happiness than he currently knows exists helps my anger to dissipate, and a tip I told my husband years ago has also come in handy for me here. I picture the man shrinking down to a tiny speck on the palm of my hand, and blow him away. Not only does this help me to feel better, but, in the past, this trick has been routinely followed up by “coincidences” such as irksome co-workers’ office departments relocating to other floors.
