Barbara Brooks created Flamingo Strategies LLC to help clients stand up and stand out, through telling and sharing their stories of impact and purpose.
Hacking Away at Happiness is her blog.
All in Life
A trickle charger maintains the perfect balance of power. It puts energy in at the same rate it’s draining out. It’s slow going, but it’s better in the long run for battery health.
My current streak on Wordle is 41 days. So what? How about we take a peek at our streaks? Be sure they’re serving us well.
If we don’t have actual Shabbat candles, we kindle tea lights. Or birthday candles. We hold up Bic lighters. Or nothing at all. We make it up as we go along.
It’s hard to celebrate this calendar turn as either Happy or New. So, instead of staging a hollow celebration—or ignoring the day altogether—why not open our hearts and forgive?
I bumbled around looking for a match, but frustration set in. The heads were too boxy. The legs too short. Some pups were born too early. Others already were taken.
The central issues of our lives, from falling in love to facing death, require an ability to surrender that often eludes us.
Losing Ruby connects me to anyone who has ever experienced loss. And anyone who ever will. So hold your pets close and your humans even closer. And don’t give up on love.
Today is just another day. To wag more and bark less. To express our gratitude. To live as though we could die at any minute.
If staying over our skis is a metaphor for living in the present, how can we both stay over our skis and let something unknown and risky pull us along?
I was drawn to the book because of my marital redundancy. What I learned is that we all have three marriages. At the same time. Welcome to the new polyamory!
When I was an insatiable child, my mother would say “Greedy, greedy, makes a hungry puppy.” I hated that. But now I know this: “Busy, busy, makes a tired monkey.”
Madame Bovary ate arsenic and died in agony. Anna Karenina threw herself under a train. I may feel like hell right now, but I’m not giving up on love.
Radical hospitality means honoring the truth of all that we cannot anticipate and control, and all that arrives unexpected or uninvited. I guess that includes cancer.
I once dated a man who carried list of emotions in his pocket. I wore mine on my sleeve—and my list was fractionally short—so our relationship didn’t last long.
If heartbreak is inevitable and unescapable, as the poet philosopher David Whyte says, perhaps we should make friends with it. But how?
I write this blog about nothing in hopes it gives us something. It’s a place where we can sort and order our pangs and longings. It connects us to each other. That’s not nothing—is it?
I want to hear laughter when I crack a joke. I want to hear silence on the line and know we both are thinking. If a friend is choking on tears, I want to hear that too.
As roommates, we do our subsistence tasks quietly—without eclipsing what makes a life true. Right speech. Right action. Having fun. Being real.
Until now staying home, having patience, waiting out the danger, has felt both sad and necessary. But today, I’m feeling mad than sad.
Life is an improvisational art form. Interruptions are sources of wisdom, not counterproductive distractions. They prepare us for Adulthood II.
