On a recent trip to Coronado Island, I had set out for a late morning run on a long stretch of beach. It was still slightly overcast, so the beach was empty except for the occasional fellow runner, strolling couple, or family scouring for seashells. As I made my way along the shore, I noticed ahead of me an area at the end of the beach that was particularly dense with people, and began to wonder what was going on. I soon realized that what I was seeing was not only people, but dogs, dozens of them – a dog park! And as I drew closer, what struck me was not the amount of bodies, but the sense that the energy field was literally changing around me. Dogs running around in sheer uninhibited joy, chasing balls, splashing in the ocean, making new dog friends, returning to their owners for approval and reassurance (which was being doled out liberally), and I couldn’t help but smile. The happiness was both tangible and infectious… it was as if I was being enveloped by the joy that had pooled in that space.So there I was, just a random dogless woman running along with a big-ass grin, cheerfully greeting the two-legged and four-legged alike. And I began to think, what if we were able to approach every day like that? To hold each moment lightly, to savor the sensation of sand and sea spray on our bodies, the feel of cool air flowing through our nostrils. To greet new people and experiences without fear of rejection or failure, without judgement. The dogs didn’t care what color fur or what breed or how big or small their new friends were. They didn’t care if they fell over or looked ridiculous. They were out there saying “this is me, I’m happy to be here, I want to share my joy with you!” And the owners in turn were more open, finding a point of commonality with strangers as fellow dog owners, delighting in the sight of their beloved pets enjoying a trip to the beach. Most even had a friendly wave for the dorky, smiling, running lady. Now I’ve never been to Denmark, but I’ve been to Disneyland, and trust me – it has nothing on this place in the happiness department.I believe we each have a choice about what kind of energy we put out there into the world. We’re human, and we can’t all feel happy all the time, but for me even 5 minutes of that glee was enough to impact my life. As I moved through that space and absorbed the energy, I became aware that this was a gift, this brief but powerful glimpse of pure happiness. (If I could capture that energy in a bottle, I’m sure I’d have the million-dollar idea that has been eluding me.) In that moment I made a point to fully take it in, to retain it, so that I could tap back into it later and relive the feeling, and so that I might share it with others. And although my legs had grown heavy from running in the sand, and salt air and sweat was stinging my eyes, and my cheeks quivered from smiling, I was tempted to make another pass.
Michelle Leath
