As I set up my calendar for the month, I select a quote I’ve found that speaks to me. I write it in my planner and leave space below it to capture phrases I hear or read that speak to me and relate to the quote. I found this practice centers me throughout the month, and helps me be more present in my conversations, meetings, and readings. For March 2026, my quote was, “the passing on of happiness.”
Near the end of the month, a friend called me at a random time in the middle of the workday. I almost didn’t answer her call as I was heads down in a “thick” work week, working hard to meet several aggressive deadlines in between meetings.
She opened with, “I sensed you’re struggling and I wanted to check in.” For a split second I was caught of guard, as I often text or call someone and say, “You popped into my heart a few times so I’m reaching out…” only to find out something significant has occurred. But now I was on the receiving end of a friend’s concern, and I first thought, “no, I’m ok.”
Then the pause.
The realization that yes, I was OK and yes, I was struggling on a few fronts.
Nothing big. Just a point in time thing. A lot in my peripheral vision that sat on my heart. Most of the overwhelm would settle down easily in time. But for now, the weight of it was felt, and real.
Her concern. A pause. My vulnerability.
What passed through the pause was more than support, it was happiness. I was happy she reached out. I was happy I revealed my emotional reality. I was happy we’d shared and laughed together. I was happy I had a 15-minute boost during a hard day which shifted my mood considerably.
Here are the quotes, lyrics, and phrases that that caught the attention of my head and heart this month regarding “the passing on of happiness”:
- I saw the crescent, you saw the whole of the moon
- Grief and praise are renters whose landlord is love
- It takes courage to be what the world needs, but the world never seems to change when you are alone
- The answering is already whispering—listen
- The world called and I answered
- You are setting the emotional climate before anyone enters the room
- Not to be feared but figured out
A few days after my friend’s call I sat in Westminster Presbyterian Church’s adult education class with guest teacher Paul Cho, DMin, Professor of Hebrew Bible at Wesley Theological Seminary. His topic was “migration.”
He proceeded to walk us through the lineage of people in the book of Genisis from the “Old Testament” (Christian term) or “Tanakh” (Jewish term). How everyone migrates—from Adam and Eve and Abraham, to Noah and beyond. All are immigrants: “Ger” – a resident alien or sojourner; “Toshav” – temporary resident; “Nokhri” – an outsider or foreigner. And that no one is referred to as being native born, “Ezrach.” That everyone, all God’s people, are immigrants. That everyone migrates—moves (e.g., family, job, location, mindset, faith).
Then he talked about being an immigrant from Korea, as his family migrated when he was young. As he shared, he referred to the United States as “our country.”
After class I spoke with him. “So often we say, America is ‘my country’ and it was beautiful to hear you say ‘our country.’ I feel if we thought and spoke about it in terms of ‘our’ we’d be better off, have more awareness of everyone in ‘our’ country as we made decisions.”
He shared that the use of “our” was cultural, from Korean language. “In Korean, everything is shared. When I speak of my mother to someone, it’s ‘our mother.’ Or ‘our father.’”
I thought of the shared responsibility of “our”… passing on concern, care, hope, and happiness to all we pass on our migration through life.
Mmmm. Feels good.
