🥴 Not the View We Planned 🙃

...Re-route-ing Joy

Welcome back, Positivity Pack!

Mandy has always sworn that the best thing in Yosemite isn’t a waterfall or a granite icon, it’s the buses. As a kid, she and her family would hop on just for fun, circling the valley for hours. So when a family vacation brought us back to Yosemite, Mandy made one thing very clear: we were going to ride the buses.

She talked it up like it was a VIP TT (Very Important Public Transportation Tour?)

So…

We went. Aaaaand, well, we waited.

And waited.

And waited. When the bus finally arrived, we had to cram in, like a game of human Tetris. The air was… atmospheric to say the least. It was so crowded, we couldn’t even see out the windows, which turned “scenic loop” into “mystery box with brakes.” At the various stops, the driver kindly asked people not to enter through the exit doors, which of course, some people heard as “free bonus entrance” and made the situation even more crowded.

Jonathan watched Mandy’s face do the math: expectation minus experience equals ughhh whyyyyyyyy. The universe had sure given us a rude route awakening. Mandy had wanted to share a memory; instead, she’d shared her deodorant with a busload of fellow hikers.

It was starting to really become Not-Our-Favorite O’Clock…

And then something beautiful happened. We looked at each other and just started to laugh. There was something absurdly hilarious about this ideal moment now squashed into oblivion. We immediately decided to rechristen this particular Yosemite experience as The El Capi-crammed, which of course made us laugh even harder.

Childhood Mandy loved riding the buses because they made the valley feel big. Grown-up Mandy discovered the same feeling, not because the conditions were perfect, but because joy didn’t need a window seat, just a co-pilot to enjoy life with.

Some days you get the breezy loop with a view. Some days you get the human sardine sampler. Either way, you can still arrive where it matters: together, laughing, making room for a moment that didn’t exist before.

And it certainly stocks tomorrow’s campfire full of today’s stories.

Welcome to this week’s edition of the Positopian where we share positive news, fiction, resources, & insights to help you become the best version of yourself…

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Positive Quotes:

• “Feelings that you hold back, become feelings that hold you back.” ~Mansi

• “Let the improvement of yourself keep you so busy that you have no time to criticize others.” ~Roy T. Bennett

• “You do not find the happy life. You make it.” ~Camilla Eyring Kimball

• “Be like a tree and let the dead leaves drop” ~Rumi

• “Arguing with idiots is like playing chess with a pigeon. No matter how good you are, the bird is going to poop on the board and strut around like it won anyway.” ~Shannon L. Alder

• “Action may not always bring happiness, but there is no happiness without action.” ~William James

• “[Kids] don't remember what you try to teach them. They remember what you are.” ~Jim Henson

• “Everything changes when you realize the best version of yourself is not the future version, but a daily choice.” ~Elis Mimmo

• “You are a canyon that echoes whatever you shout.” ~Mandy & Jonathan Chew

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Positive Images:

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Positive Resources:

ASAP =

• As Slow As Possible

• As Soft As Possible

• As Sincere As Possible

• As Steady As Possible

• Allow Space and Pause

I tried the military sleep method that helps soldiers fall asleep in 2 minutes - here's what happened

It involves a combination of deep breathing, mindfulness and visualisation. You start by slowing down your breathing and keeping the rate consistent. Then, you begin to gradually relax the body by focusing your attention on each individual part, working your way down from head to the toe – like a body scan. Finally, you visualise a relaxing scene, and that’s all there is to it!

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Positive News:

Hero Dad Describes Moment he Rescued boy who Wandered onto Hersheypark Ride 100 feet in the Air

The boy was reported missing by his parents around 5 p.m. after he entered a secure area for the monorail ride, Hersheypark officials said.

He was at the station for about 20 minutes before he began walking along the track — frightening park-goers below.

The visitor said his “dad instincts kicked in,” enabling him to bring the boy to safety.

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Positive Fiction:

The hospice center was quiet when Sarah started her volunteer shift. At twenty-two, she was the youngest volunteer by decades, but after losing her grandmother last year, she felt a deep call to this work.

"Room 712 needs someone, dear," the coordinator told her. "Mr. Check doesn't have family visiting. Could you just sit with him?"

Sarah hesitated outside the door. What could she possibly offer to a dying stranger? Would he even want her there?

Taking a deep breath, she knocked and entered.

Mr. Check lay still, his thin face angled toward the window.

"Hello, Mr. Check. I'm Sarah. I thought you might like some company today?"

No response came, but Sarah noticed a weathered notebook on the nightstand. "Maybe… um…. Would you like me to read to you?"

After a moment's silence, he gave an almost imperceptible nod.

The notebook contained poetry galore: beautiful verses about gardens, mountains, and distant memories. As Sarah read, Mr. Check's breathing seemed to ease.

"You wrote these, didn’t you?" she asked during a pause.

"A lifetime ago," he whispered. "No one has heard them but me."

Sarah returned the next day, and the next. She read more poetry and began bringing small gifts: a tiny potted succulent, a sketch of the view from his window, recordings of birdsong.

On her fifth visit, Mr. Check was sitting up slightly.

"I taught literature for forty years," he told her. "But I never shared my own work."

With Mr. Check's permission, Sarah typed up his poems and shared them with other volunteers and patients. Soon, people began stopping by Room 712. A retired music teacher set one of the poems to melody. A twelve-year-old patient recovering from surgery illustrated another. A community was born.

Three weeks later, when Sarah arrived for her shift, Room 712 was empty. The coordinator handed her an envelope.

"He passed peacefully last night, but he left this for you, dear…"

Inside was a note in shaky handwriting:

"Dear Sarah,

For decades, I kept my light hidden, afraid it just wasn't bright enough to be appreciated. In my final days, you helped me see that even the smallest spark matters.

My final poem is for you:

The palm that parts the curtains
Also holds a hand
And lets daylight remember its map
Upon the human soul

Thank you for being the hand that has opened the day back to me, dear Sarah.

With grattitude,
James Check"

Sarah wiped away tears and looked around the hospice center where volunteers moved gently from room to room. She understood now that compassion isn't about grand gestures—it's about small moments of connection that remind us we're not alone.

Today, Room 712 was empty, but tomorrow, someone new would need light. And Sarah would be there, opening curtains and sharing the “poetry” inside of her with others.

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Always Remember, "Chews" Joy :)
~Mandy & Jonathan Chew