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You may remember how I wrote about letting go of relationships that just weren’t working. You know, the kind where things just aren’t gelling between the two of you—or worse, you feel like you’re giving more than receiving.

I was in this situation with someone who had been one of my best friends a year and some back. I decided to let go. So did she. We went our separate ways.

A few days ago, I received a call from a number I didn’t recognize and let it go to voicemail since I had just gotten home. When I listened to it, boy was I surprised to hear the voice of my friend. Her message was filled with love and kindness and a desire for a reconnection.

In my heart, I knew we were receiving a blessing—a second chance—and called her back. Whatever hadn’t gelled between us before was gone. As I told her, we aren’t the same people we were then. We talked for almost an hour, catching up on each other’s lives.

Happiness is reconnecting with old friends.

It struck me how this lovely surprise was part of an ongoing theme recently. When I have let go of something, I am receiving it often in a version that is a thousand times better.

And the key? I have to let go.

That was always hard for the old me, but the new me sees the blessing in it. I appreciate the freedom it gives me. And since I trust it to Spirit, the Universe, whatever you call it, I know it’s in good hands.

I always say people can surprise me. I especially love when I surprise myself. People can change, and so can we.

We can reconnect with people we thought gone from our material lives.

How cool is that?

So if you need to let go of someone right now, take heart. You may be reconnecting with them in the future in a more wonderful way than you could ever have imagined.

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It’s no secret that I love what I do. Only a love like this could have me continue to write after each rejection or well into the night after a long day at the office. Only a love this strong could make me walk away from a well-established, successful career to become a full-time writer.

“Follow your bliss,” the wise Joseph Campbell said, and following mine has changed my life for the better.

Yet for a long time, I thought I was the only one who loved what I did. Then there was my incredible family, whose support means the world. A few people started to be added into the mix here and there, but still not a lot of people.

I write because it makes me happy. If you’re looking for your life purpose, trust that feeling and run with it.

After working for a number of years as a writer, I have come to a place where other people love my work. More readers show up each day, talking about how much they love my books and how it’s changing their lives.

Happiness is having other people love your work.

The glow in my heart when I receive a delightful review or a heartfelt email from a reader rivals a million fireflies. Having people love your work makes them part of your community, part of your family in some ways. We’re connecting around characters, their journeys, their emotions, and the deeper message that holds it all together (what my old writing professors called themes).

This is a sacred space, this nexus of mutual love for one’s work. And I’m grateful for it.

When you look at your work, do other people love what you do as much as you do? Or perhaps we need to back up and ask, “Do you love what you do?”

When you start asking those questions and find yourself filled with happiness, you know you are on the path to glory. Not the material kind, although that is a lovely outcome, but the one where you are in full alignment with your purpose in the world and are attracting all of the right people to enjoy and support it.

Friends, that place is a kind of paradise, and I am happy to be residing in it after so many cold winters. My prayer and wish is that you will all find your own soul-nurturing paradises through you life purpose if you haven’t already.

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I used to be afraid of surprises. In my old way of thinking, surprises meant something bad: change for the worse, a deviation from my plans, or a new player in my life who was going to cause me trouble.

Now I call in wonderful surprises every morning before I get out of bed. Bring them on, I say. The more magical, the more miraculous the better.

Recently, my circle has been growing again on the business front. I’ve had a good feeling about someone, what I call a God feeling (good feeling, god feeling, get it?), and I run with it. We start out talking business, and then the magic happens. One comment or question during a business conversation blows the door open to an unexpected connection. I’ve discovered connections to my old career of rebuilding war zones to spiritual connections, and it’s made me say, aha!, I knew there was something about that person. We were brought together for a reason.

Happiness is unexpected connections.

How often have we heard someone say they felt a person was a kindred spirit? I know I have felt it many times and hope to feel it many more. In the beginning, you may not know why the person strikes you so, but as you come to know the person better, you realize what you’d been sensing: commonality, similar ways of thinking, and a mutual sharing of a particular experience.

Nothing makes me happier than when I discover this kind of unexpected connection in my business circles because let’s face it, there’s no need to put business in a small box of rules and “unfun” where nothing special and magical can enter. I want all my relationships to have fullness of life and meaning. They make me happy.

What have been those unexpected connections for you? Have they lasted forever or only for a season or a day? How happy were you when you discovered all that you had in common?

I met a man on a trip to Istanbul many years ago, and with him, I felt that special spark of connection. I don’t even remember his name now, but I remember our connection. And in case you are thinking it was romantic, you’d be wrong. We both took a boat ride together on the Bosphoros and talked about traveling and other things I can’t recall anymore. But I’ve never forgotten him. He was an unexpected connection in a place very far away from home. He said that meeting people on the road is like eating an ice cream cone: marvelous while it lasts. I’ve loved that image ever sense.

So, call in with me more of those ice-cream-cone moments or those forever moments through unexpected connections. They’ll add to your happiness factor, I promise.

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Last week I decided to head to a special spot in the mountains to reflect on this last year after releasing my first novel, NORA ROBERTS LAND.

It was the first time I had been off email and social media in over fourteen months, and I fretted about that even though scheduled Facebook posts work just fine as does an out-of-the-office email message.

No phone. No TV. No music.

Just stillness.

There’s an itchy feeling at first, going into that much silence, that much stillness, until you realize nature is never still, never silent. It has rhythms all its own. You begin to hear new sounds, ones your ears have been deaf to with all the busyness and chatter going on: the way the leaves rustle with the wind, how the fire crackles and dances in the fire pit, and how rain thunders on the earth as the skies open.

Life doesn’t stop. But it does slow down, but only because I have.

Happiness is stillness.

From my screened porch, it was like I was nestled in a tree house on top of the mountain. The first day an entire rainbow stretched across the sky, a powerful sign if there ever was one.

I rested. I reflected. I read. I just sat and listened.

I have to work hard to counter my own hard work ethic sometimes. Taking off for four days and doing nothing? Especially when I have a million things to do? Well, it’s amazing what can happen. I hadn’t planned to think about anything book-related but my next three novels simply unfolded like maps rolled out before you begin an adventure. This happened without any prompting, and the characters talked non-stop in my head. My suggestion for anyone who has writer’s block: stop trying and get away. The story will come to you in the stillness.

When you open to the stillness, you are receptive to what wants to come and find you, to tell you what you need, what you have been longing for.

We all seem to be drawn into leading such busy lives, running from moment to moment, rarely being still.

And yet in the stillness, I found my greatest happiness. I just was, and that was more than enough.

Take some time off of your own in a special place. You might be surprised what you discover.

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Over lunch with an old friend today, I was describing the ebb and flow of lighting striking in my life this past year. You know, those times when everything seems to be brimming over like a glass stuck joyfully into a champagne fountain at a wedding.

But this isn’t always so in life, and this year, after walking away from a successful career and a nice, steady paycheck with benefits to launch myself as an author, there have been some low moments. The kind where you just pray and pray things will work out.

My friend understands this better than most of the rest of the people in my circle. He’s a business owner too after leaving his corporate job to venture out on his own. And he’s made it despite the highs and the lows.

These past few months I have had unexpected gifts show up like lightning. Now I love lightning. I think if it struck the tree right in front of me, I would say, “Cool.” Lightning can also illuminate a dark night like no other so we can see the thunderous clouds rumbling with all their potency. Anytime I see those amazing bolts, I am always in awe, marveling at their beauty.

And that’s how I’ve felt about these unexpected gifts. The two I wanted to highlight have arrived to support me as an author. Kristen literally arrived like lightening in the sky, and I am so grateful we have found each other. Now Ian…well, he arrived like that too, as a surprise guest at a conference I hadn’t been planning to attend, and now he’s given me what I’ll call a bushel of magical apples, only the good kind.

I must in all truth admit that it’s still a little shocking even to me—someone who totally believes in supporting other people—that others would step forward and support me like these two have. Like lightning.

Happiness is unexpected gifts.

None of us build and live our dreams alone. For every person who helps me build and live mine…well, my heart simply overflows with gratitude.

Our dreams are precious treasure. Many of us don’t ever allow those gems to come into the light, fearing rejection, poverty, or doubting our own abilities to operationalize such a dream into reality.

My Dream Helpers delight me, and I am deeply grateful to Kristen and Ian for supporting me as an author.

Who might help you make your dreams come true? Keep a look out. Someone special just might be coming ‘round the bend.

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On a recent trip, I traveled back to the town where I went to high school. I even saw one of my best friends that I met had there, and it’s a joy to realize how long we’ve been friends now.

One of my favorite characters in my Dare Valley series, Rhett Butler Blaylock, has this wonderful phrase about saying “boo to the ghost.” The ghost is whatever stuff in our past that still hurts us or in a conscious or unconscious way defines us.

My high school years were terrible frankly, filled with isolation, hard work, pressure, and outright ridicule at times. When I hear people say they’d love to repeat high school, I usually ask: where in the world did they go to school and are they telling the truth? If that person really had a great experience, then wonderful for him or her. I am so glad to hear someone enjoyed those four years. I didn’t.

My sister was with me when we “accidentally” turned on the street to our high school, and I looked at her and essentially said, “It’s time to say boo to the ghost.” We aren’t the girls we were then, but we remember the hurt. We have risen above anything anyone ever tried to tell us we were or were capable of—even ourselves. So my sister and I called out the names of all the people who had hurt us, all the experiences there that had wounded us, and then we blessed it all.

Happiness is saying “boo” to the past.

As we left there, we both felt like a huge weight had been lifted. Somewhat later after having tea with my best friend from high school, she “accidentally” turned onto the street to our high school too, so I said, “let’s head on over there then.” She and I had more boo-saying to do to the place.

It was cleansing. It was beautiful.

It was time.

How often do we say “boo” to the places that haunt us? How often do we say “boo” to the people or events that felt like crap, refusing to be held captive in their web any longer?

Say “boo” to something in your life right now and see what a difference it makes. Remember what I recalled as we drove away from a place that didn’t have many good memories for me. Nothing can have power over us unless we let it.

And nothing should have the power to steal our happiness away from us.

 Say “Boo,” and Get Happy!

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Perhaps it was because I was born in a small town to people who were from a small town themselves, but I was taught the power of neighbors early on.

Some of my fondest memories come from playing with the neighbor kids, anything from ghost tag to hide-and-go-seek.

As an adult, it’s been a hit or miss proposition, but right now I am blessed to have the most incredible neighbors around. Stepping out and seeing them is an opportunity for a quick visit that sometimes turns into tea or a drink on the porch.

Happiness is neighbors.

Where we live is critical to our level of happiness. Yes, we can be happy inside us—the highest place—but the space we call home is like the soil to those soul roots. I learned a while back to start praying for good neighbors when I’d had a few who…well, weren’t. When new ones arrived, I would write them a welcome card and wrap a shiny bow around a bottle of wine. It never failed to surprise them and created that initial bond of friendship. Since then, we’ve grown together in leaps and bounds. When I had just started writing and dreaming about becoming a “real” writer, one of my neighbors told me about this idea he had, one that he felt “called” to do. Well, his dream just went live on the Internet today, and I was over the moon for him. Like my own dream, he’d worked for a long time on his, nurturing it and helping it come to life.

Neighbors are my community. The ninety-one-year-old lady across the street and I wave at each other every time I leave the house. I started this tradition some time ago when I realized I would want someone to wave to my grandmother, who was alive then.

I designed my neighbor’s garden, and in two of my neighbors’ yards, I have vegetables growing in their space that soaks up full sun.

We tend to each other. We celebrate each other. We shine light to each other.

The fences between our properties aren’t there to keep each other out. They existed before us and don’t define our relationships. They’re only a marker that gives my garden structure and some privacy when I need it.

There was one neighbor down the street who really kept to himself. For years, I heard tall tales about him, many that curled my toes. One day, I was out gardening and was guided to introduce myself even though I’d been in the neighborhood for years. After his initial surprise, he warmed up like a Labrador puppy. The poor man was shy, a loner, and not great with people. Now, he’s warm and friendly and is someone we can all count on. Funny how just a little connection changes everything.

What about your neighbors? Are they community? Is there a way to forge new bonds and bring new light to your neighborhood? I’ll bet with only a little smile and an introduction, you’ll be amazed at how incredible things shift in the place you call home.

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