A dose of optimism . . .

Wouldn't you say that, in many ways, it's been a challenging week?
So many of the certainties of the past seem to have transformed into uncertainties in the present.

Exhausted migrants, fleeing war and deprivation, stream into Europe . . . fierce fires, destroying acres of forest, surge across California . . . China's currency is devalued causing a wave of international concern . . . Greece struggles to recover.

This is all true.  There's no doubt that it's true.
But it's also what the media has chosen to tell us . . .  which is usually bad news.  We're offered a dark and often distorted picture.

'What bleeds leads' would seem to be the maxim.
But whereas blood and trauma may well grab the headlines, those same headlines can also have the effect of bleeding us . . . bleeding us of vitality and hope.

Wouldn't you agree that we need a nourishing diet of news that's optimistic and positive?  Something to help us cope with the influx of disasters.

We need a clear light to  be shed on the picture . . . and it isn't as hard to find as some might think.
May I recommend a tonic which I take daily?
It's a dose of the international online newspaper, 'The Optimist Daily'.

Founded in 1995 to counter negativity in mainstream journalism, it now produces an inspirational daily bulletin from its twin headquarters in Rotterdam and San Francisco.
Click here if you feel the need for a boost of invigorating good news and common sense.

Did you know, for instance, that India has just unveiled the world's first airport to operate entirely on solar power?  Or that an organic farmer in California has found a way to produce more and better vegetables whilst using less water?  Or that Sri Lanka is thinking of floating giant balloons high above the clouds to obtain cheap, nation-wide internet access?

See what good news is being concealed in the shadows.


But it's not merely a question of being optimistic, and looking for the positive.
I sometimes think I'd be wise to follow Chloe's lead . . . to relish in the joys of the present moment.

Untroubled by human activity in the wider world, she concentrates on the offerings of her immediate vicinity.

After all,  what could be better for body and soul than a satisfying breakfast, an enjoyable walk . . . and the exciting rustle of mice in the ivy?

The things you look at change . . .

"When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change."
So says Dr. Wayne Dyer . . . and his words linger in my mind.

Is it true?  Is it really true that our thoughts affect the world around us?

This is very much the concept of quantum physics, and I've just come across a deeply moving video which strongly bears this out.

The video features a talk given to a school assembly.  It was given by Nick Vujicic, a multi-talented Australian with two small children of his own.

In a moment I'll give you the link and you'll be able to witness for yourself not only the powerful talk, but also the profound change that takes place in the minds of those listening.  A change that's clearly visible on the students' attentive faces.

What they witnessed, listening to the talk, caused the way the students looked at things to change.  This, in turn, meant that, by the end of the talk, they were looking at something very different from what they'd seen at the start.

I'm sure you'd agree that, as a species, we don't change our attitudes easily.  We approach situations ready to form judgements that are based on previous impressions.
We are predisposed to look at life through the fixed lens of opinion and long-held beliefs.

There's the classic example of, "Does he take sugar?"
Unthinkingly we relegate an invalid in a wheelchair to a subordinate role.
The question, as to whether he or she takes sugar, is put to the person pushing the wheelchair, not to the occupant who's about to be offered the cup of tea.

But what if the person in the wheelchair is quick-witted and articulate?
What if the carer comes from overseas and has a limited grasp of English?
Suddenly, the way we look at things has changed.

Now . . . let's share a mind-changing experience.

Click here for that moving,  four-minute video . . . I promise you won't forget it.