The more you like, the happier you are

From here on out, I need you to believe that liking has nothing to do with Facebook or the people that infest it but everything to do with time, patience and the willingness to let go a little.
So the other day a friend and I were talking about fear -- our fear of surfing, getting pummelled by a 5 ft wave (which sounds like a lot, but really isn't) or even just the fear of picking ourselves up once we've been knocked off our surfboards. We both hear this fire-truck type siren going off inside our heads and the child in each of us is wetting its pants thinking it won't be able to make it over the next wave. What is that all about really?
A part of me wants to say it's something about the conditioned minds we all carry within. The mind which says if you fail, it's bad or you'll be punished. The mind which tells us that the wave is big, scary and it will carry us into the ocean drowning us and our dreams, and we will never become the doctor/lawyer/engineer someone else wanted us to be.
But how sad is that? We've passed a judgment on this innocent wave that's only doing what it knows best -- going back and forth, creating ebb and flow. And this, this passing of judgment, is what stops us from admiring the things that surround us. The neighbour who wears too much makeup, the slow professor, the next 6 ft wave... all of it really.
But what would happen if we were to stop for a second and just take the wave precisely for what it is? Would it hurt us to admire its greens and blues and whites and to ride it until it brought us closer to the shore?
Here's my hunch -- the majority of us have the same problem of this babbling, conditioned mind that talks to us all day long, never letting us like what's in front of us. It tells us something else will be bigger, better, stronger without ever giving us an inkling of how that's true or how that will come to pass. That's a little nuts. You wouldn't trust a doctor who simply says, “trust me, it'll be fine” when you have a swollen arm and are looking forward to some serious antibiotics and TLC. So why trust this inner voice that says something equally unprofound (yes, in some dictionaries that's the opposite of profound) when you're in dire need of just... silent, self-reflective time out?
How about we all just take some time to like ourselves, our surroundings, our incredibly complex yet stunningly mundane predicaments. Not passing judgements on them, but just letting all of that be. Someone told me that once you settle into this “liking” state, where you dwell less and “be” more, you'll build something that might resemble patience. The kind that lets you sit back and observe your ever-mumbling inner voice without either giving heed to it or scrutinising it. And in about a 100 years or days (you pick your pace) it will lead you to enjoying things more.
Now if you think about it, when you're enjoying something, you're opening up to experiences. When you're not there thinking “oh this is good” or “get me out of here!”, when you're just going with it, things fall into place. Whether it's a meaningful place or not is another question.
My friend and I gave all of this a think. We also continued to throw all the thoughts out. Because who likes thinking anyway?
The next day we were both out on our surfboards, taking on waves bigger than both our imaginations melted together. And that's when it all fell into place.
The waves will always come and go, it's up to you to decide whether you're going to ride them with a clenched fist or sit them out, and beam a thousand beams of happiness at them.
Even so, you may ask “what's this person getting at?”
Even so, I know you know... that I know some of what you live with every day.
So given the chance to choose between liking more things and staying true to yourself, to a happy life versus staying inside your shell and being annoyed, angry and disappointed -- would it hurt so much to pick the former and open up a little? Just a little more?
You tell me!

Elizabeth Bass is a freelance marketing consultant, who'll pick a surfboard, under the sun over an office with no fun.