part 2: the happiness squad
- Melinda
- May 3
- 10 min read
Updated: May 3
(continued from Part 1: The Adventure Year)
so much fun
Sitting on the beach that New Year's Day, I would say we were a predominantly unhappy group. Not in the moment, of course, because in that particular moment we were having so much damn fun. But in life overall. Although one of us could claim contentment, she was unknowingly perched on the cusp of her carefully laid plans falling apart around her (only to rebuild, and have them immediately collapse again). My other two girls were in pain-riddled places of their own, sucking on some of those proverbial lemons with tears streaming from their eyes. As for me? I was lost and spinning. Spinning wildly. Spinning uselessly. And so dizzy that I lived in a perpetual state of (existential) nausea.
There was no way of knowing it then, but that year of Adventures was an unbelievable blessing, in so many ways. Intuitively, I knew 2021 was probably our last chance to commit to something like this as a family unit. After so many years of spending virtually every day together (homeschooling families for the win ♥), inevitably it had to end. Gratefully, it had to end. We were all outgrowing those versions of ourselves, each of us ready to spread our wings and fly. And I was right about that last chance because 2022 saw my eldest striking out on her own, supporting herself with a 9-to-5 that didn’t leave time for spontaneous adventures anymore.
the happiness squad
But in 2021 we still had that freedom, and we used it so very well. We were known for spur-of-the-moment packing up and heading out when one of us (usually me) felt a calling for the trees, the sea, the silence, or the clarity those trips seemed to bring. Very early on, we decided to dub ourselves The Happiness Squad (because we're like that) to continually remind us of our mission: hunt down happiness while we adventure in the great out-of-doors. And happiness did slowly increase that year, for most of us anyway. By the close of 2021, I would say we were a predominantly happy group again. Sometimes my husband joined us (Scotty), but more often than not, it was just me and my girls. We became our own elite little club of four, visitors allowed only upon invitation.
collection of pins
Because we don't do anything half-ass, the Happiness Squad acquired matching backpacks, matching raincoats, matching warm-and-woolly winter hiking boots. One of my girls decided that we absolutely had to commemorate some of our Adventure highlights with pins, so our collection of pins grew as the year crept on, all proudly affixed to our backpacks. A seal, for the one time we saw one bobbing in the ocean. A ghost, for the one that chased us out of his graveyard. A tulip, for the Adventure we spent at a tulip farm.
That pin collection also included our titles, as decreed by the Happiness council. Which, again, consisted of only the four of us. I told you we were elite.
Melinda: Chief Optimist
Scott: Ace Navigator
Our oldest daughter: Quest Coordinator
Our middle: Star Photographer
Our youngest: Avian Aficionado
And because I have a penchant for biting off more than I can comfortably chew, along the way I diligently compiled a series of Adventure books that chronicled the entire journey—from start to finish—complete with photos, memorable moments, all of the birds we spotted, and even the weather of each and every trip. All four of us were required to submit a synopsis of each and every Adventure to be included in the books. My girls may have grumbled and cursed me at the time, but they appreciate my unwavering demands now. Thumbing through those books in preparation for this post, I lost quite a bit of time happily reading and reminiscing.
destination: sucky
Not all of the Adventures were fabulous, of course. Sometimes, it was the destination that sucked. Like the trip where, to our dismay, we found all of the oak trees had been decimated by gypsy moths. We'd been anticipating a cool and refreshing hike under their canopy on that sweltering hot day in July, but it ended up feeling more like a death march instead. Conservatively sipping our water, I genuinely hoped that no one would collapse before we could finally find our way back to the car. Possibly the hottest hike of the year, we trudged along with very little tree cover to save us from heatstroke and dehydration. We survived—sweaty and in various states of misery—and then promptly rewarded ourselves with a trip to our favorite beach once we made it safely out of that leaf-forsaken forest.
us: sucky
And sometimes it was us that sucked. Like the day we had an intense and heated family discussion right before our planned Adventure. We decided to go anyway, but then didn’t talk for virtually the entire (long) drive or the torturous many-hour hike along an old military runway. The hike sucked. The mood sucked. But the Adventure? Memorable. And so laugh-worthy. In retrospect, of course, and once we were all on speaking terms again. We treated ourselves to a trip to our favorite beach after this Adventure, too. When feasible, wrapping up our hikes with a trip to the sea was a running theme throughout the year.
always a surprise
But mostly? They were super fun trips, peppered with deep conversation, stupid jokes, and at least one spell of intense laughter that would leave us gasping for breath. Sometimes there were happy surprises, sometimes spooky surprises, but almost always a surprise of some sort. We finally got to the point where if something unexpected didn't happen, could we even call it an Adventure? Some trips involved travel, and others took us no farther than a bonfire and stargazing in our own backyard. Sometimes we tried new destinations, and sometimes we repeated old favorites. The only consistency throughout every trip was that it took place outdoors and that the four of us were together.
a birthday ghost
One of my all-time favorites (largely because the story is so fun to tell) was the hike we took on my birthday. We tried a new spot and it all started out innocent enough. A lovely stream. A classic stone wall. An intense hike up a steep hill to the rock we "meditated" on at the top. An abundance of trees to hug. But things started getting weird when the map directed us to hike through a farm's open field. My eldest and I puzzled over the trail map for quite some time before we decided it must obviously be wrong (it wasn't wrong), and so headed in the exact opposite direction. Stepping from the field and back into the woods, the sun was swept up by clouds and the temperature dropped. In retrospect, this should have been our first clue that we were heading somewhere we weren't welcome.
Wandering along and looking for trail blazes, we found ourselves standing by a old graveyard, which instantly transformed the hike into a 10/10 for me. I love the feel of old cemeteries, tiptoeing through them while reading barely legible gravestones, and imagining the lives of the people buried there. This particular graveyard didn't disappoint, and we spent considerable time reading headstones. The graveyard held some babies (as they so often do) and it was right around the time we discovered the plots of those wee ones that things started to get creepy. The interesting part is that while we all felt an energetic shift, we didn't mention it to each other. Not a one of us. We simply carried on in search of the disappearing trail, gaslighting ourselves into believing that we didn't really feel the increasingly chilly and foreboding vibes.
jeremiah the unfriendly ghost
Distinctly uncomfortable, our usual animated chatter ebbed, even when we stumbled upon cool stuff like the old barn foundation with a wagon wheel still resting in it. Finally overcome by this inexplicable fear (that we still hadn't mentioned to each other), we decided to turn back and retrace our steps to the trail head since we were obviously "lost." I was at the rear of our procession, and I had to resist the overwhelming urge to repeatedly look back over my shoulder for whatever I felt was most definitely close on our heals and hell-bent on chasing us out of these woods. Or even worse, hunting us down. With murder in its eyes. It was tense and wildly uncomfortable, and I couldn't wait to be safely back at the car again. What if we never made it out? Can ghosts commit homicide? Would I die on the very day I was born? That might make for a cool story actually...
Our pace and our silence increased until we finally reached the open field again and, I kid you not, the sun reappeared as soon as we stepped from the woods. Collectively breathing a sigh of relief, it was then that we discovered our unified feeling of unease and could only surmise that someone hadn't liked us poking around in that cemetery. Interestingly enough, it was just recently that one of my girls found an article on haunted sites in our area and discovered that this particular Audubon that we'd been hiking at had a haunted graveyard in the area we'd been traipsing through. We for sure can affirm the presence of something there, and I'll just say this: Jeremiah doesn't like visitors.
death by laughter
And then there was one of the coldest Adventures we took. Although absolutely bone-chilling, it boasted the most amazing and looong boardwalk (a boardwalk elevates any Adventure just as much as a cemetery does). But the most memorable part of this trip was actually on the car ride home. It will be remembered forever as the trip when my seat-belt locked up and almost suffocated me during an intense bout of laughter. While struggling to get my seat belt to loosen, Scott and I were cackling so hard at the very "reputable" meat market (and the super shady ice cream van) we passed that I had a surreal moment when I wondered if a person could laugh so hard that they passed out. Or passed on. And also why was my seat belt trying to kill me?
If pressed (not very hard), I could tell you a story about virtually every trip we took. Like the hike that seemed to go steeply uphill the entire way. Like, how is that even possible? Also, how did our car (which we for sure parked at the bottom) make its way up to meet us at the top? I've talked about repeating that hike every year since to see if it feels the same strange only-uphill way. I'll report back with an update when I do.
Or the time we set our alarms for 4:00 am to watch the lunar eclipse (at 97% it was the longest partial eclipse in almost 600 years!). Settling ourselves into sleeping bags on the front lawn, we were dismayed to find the sky covered by a thick layer of pesky clouds. So we did as any self-respecting witches would do and manifested the clouds away. We worked at it diligently until the clouds finally parted, just before the moon began to sink behind the trees. It was beautiful and awesome. (And obviously, magic is real.)
Or the time we went sledding and laughed so damn hard that we all felt like children again. My oldest was the only one to try the jump, but we had a blast going up and down that snow-covered hill.
This list could go on for a full fifty-two examples but I shall spare you, even though I'm having a blast strolling down Memory Lane. Suffice it to say, we laughed and marveled an awful lot that year.
the adventure playlist
And the last bit of memorable Happiness Squad lore was our Adventure playlist. Anytime I'm in the mood for music, it's still what I reach for. Honestly, it was half the fun of each trip. Every car ride would be peppered with new finds that were offered up for vote. Did it have “Adventure vibes” or not? The list of favorites steadily grew so long that only hour+ car rides could even make a dent in it. If "pressed," I could draft a post about half of the songs on that list and the impact they had on me. The messages they brought. The joy they stoked. The hope they instilled. The angst they translated so eloquently into words.
There are songs now that will, for the rest of my life, remind me of those freedom-filled adventuring days. One of my most favorites is "Dragons" (by Drew Holcomb & The Neighbors) because I discovered a distressingly large number of (mostly inner) dragons that needed slaying that year. I did become quite proficient at it though, and the pile of murdered carcasses grew steadily over those twelve months. Even now, every time I hear it, it reminds me to keep my sword ever at the ready, slaying any fire-breathing dragon dumb enough to stand in my way.
forest bathing
Forest Bathing has become a pretty popular concept in recent years. It’s been shown that time spent in nature is restorative—physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. Of course, anyone who's ever spent any significant amount of time out among the trees already understands this; it's like stating the obvious. But more and more studies are proving that the benefits of spending a couple hours out in nature, ideally each week, have far-reaching and profound effects.
I can attest to this because the concept is similar to what we did that year (just with a lot more conversation). Slowly, one week at a time, we healed parts of ourselves. Hugging a tree was no metaphorical thing for me; literally, I would pause to hug a tree and feel this tremendous sense of peace. Like each time I stopped to do so, they reached inside and readjusted something that was dangerously misaligned. It just struck me recently that perhaps the trees enjoyed and benefited from our hugs just as much as I did. Isn’t that a beautiful thought? To think that perhaps those hugs were, in some inexplicable way, just as soothing for the trees as they were for me?
But the Adventure year inevitably came to an end, which was sad, but also a relief. There were times when I wasn't sure if we could see it through, but we persevered and emerged victorious. Our very last Adventure was on December 31, 2021 at the same beach where it all begun twelve months earlier. 2021 turned out to be one of the very best years of my life thus far and created an avalanche of growth and change for me. And I think, as a Squad, we were pretty successful in our quest. Happiness was rediscovered and continues to be nurtured to this day by each and every one of us. Our Adventure boots came through after all. ♥
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