He says he’d like me to
make him a cookbook for his birthday; one with all his favorite recipes. I’m flattered and touched. It won’t be Julia Child’s tome on French cooking, but I
can certainly cover a few pages. Enough to get him started anyway. As this
piece of artwork comes together I decide what I’d really like to share with him as he takes these tender and
tentative steps into adulthood, more than anything in the world, is a recipe
for happiness.
I think about the ingredients for a happy life. Are they exotic
specialties we need to hunt down in obscurity? Or are they staples we can find
anywhere? I settle on the idea that happiness consists of endless blends of
plentiful items readily available wherever we are, yet made elusive by the ever
present doubt we have in our worthiness. A mouthful, for sure. The recipe for
happiness is not precise, anyone can serve up this dish. Nor does it have to be
complicated, but we sure make it so.
The first, and really only required ingredient is belief in
yourself. A yoga instructor strikes a chord for parenting when she says, “I will believe in you until you
believe in yourself.” Can we really
transfer the reins in this way? Can we impart worthiness on another? I hope so. I have been
believing in my kids since the day I met them. I’ve been telling them so since they could understand my words.
Those who conform to society’s standards of success appear to have an easier time with
self-worth. There are signs all over the place showing them they are on the
right path, that they fit in. It’s those who feel
the inescapable pull of the tide compelling them to be different, to hone
strengths and use gifts others don’t see or understand who really struggle. It’s these fragile hearts who need to
believe in themselves the most. And who are most vulnerable to self-sabotage.
Being different is scary and hard. Doing things differently than
everyone else can be exhausting. We have to endure a barrage of
questions and explain our thoughts over and over again. We’re misunderstood. Our direction
is misinterpreted. We’re slowing
things down, we’re getting in
the way. Easier to just give in, or crawl into a hole and give up. Better to push
away, even throw out all those other ingredients waiting to be added to this
happiness recipe. Without a belief in yourself they won’t be needed.
Self-belief is the magic ingredient, it keeps the soufflé of happiness
from sinking. It doesn’t matter what
else you put in the bowl. You can have a wonderful partner, lots of friends, a nice roof
over your head. You can travel the world, run your own business, none of it makes
a difference if you don’t believe in
yourself.
Supporting those we care about while they are searching for the
primary ingredient to happiness requires faith and fortitude. We see it on
the shelf. We measure it out. We wait patiently until they pour it in the bowl. We believe in
them until they believe in themselves.
