Dear Reader:
You know, I have to admit that, on Sundays, sometimes I am so engaged with moving the church services along with my piano/organ duties, that I fade off a little on the attention during the sermon. After all, I do get to hear it twice (most Sundays) and so I figure I can slack just a little and still get the gist - right? :) Anyway, today's sermon had a great point in it. Sometimes, "rejoicing" can be hard work. I've mentioned before that I don't think happiness or joy (these are probably two distinct and different terms with slightly different meanings, but let's keep it simple here) are states to be achieved or things that happen to you. I think they are things that you either cultivate in particular moments or things that you become aware of as they fly on by. But, sometimes, you have to get a lot of your personal inertia out of the way to actually experience them. This is where the hard work is, I suspect. Pulling off layers of emotional weight and trauma from a particular experience or an accumulation of experiences to be able to see out into the clear sky. Sometimes, that work is so hard that we have to enlist the help of others (hard to do) to get us beyond the cloudiness. Isn't that what is called resilience? Yeah, I think so. I know a lot of resilient people. On certain days of the week/month, I think I am one myself. But, I also identify and empathize with people who feel the weight of their experiences and emotions too heavily to "rejoice" in life. Conversely, I feel a sense of hope and optimism when I see people who find joy easily and weightlessly. That is a beautiful thing to watch (kids 6 or under are great teachers for this). I guess it is because I have experienced both sides of the coin.
Anyway, I was thinking about all of this as I sat in church this morning. It got me to thinking about how I want to start each day with the intention of finding/noticing moments of magic and joy. It's a lot like New Year's Resolutions. There is always a lot of talk around this time of year about these resolutions. I recently looked at my posts around this time last year and saw that I had mentioned that I didn't think New Year's Resolutions were for me. I think this was because I had been reading a lot of stuff about how people invariably fail at keeping their resolutions. But, you know what, I think I've changed my mind. Because I think it doesn't matter whether or not you keep those resolutions. Fail if you must. Just keep having them. Hope springs eternal. And, someday, you may actually live into a day when the intentions or resolutions you have are realized. It certainly won't happen if you don't keep trying. The only thing wrong with failure (at a diet, at a relationship, at a project) is when we close in on ourselves and feel unworthy. NO, NO, NO. That is not the way to think about it, is it, dear reader? Failure is a fantastic professor. And, we don't want to avoid that professor because we think that she'll grade us too hard.
To make a painfully large conceptual leap into a related (but, seemingly unrelated) topic, I have to mention that I've been watching 2 or 3 episodes of "Parks and Recreation" each night this week. WHY DIDN'T ANYBODY TELL ME THAT I WOULD LOVE LESLIE KNOPE SO MUCH? Oh, actually, several people did - including, most recently, my friend Mel who suggested this for the third or fourth or one hundredth time to me. So, to connect the threads here (stay with me), Leslie Knope (as played by the amazingly nuanced Amy Poehler) is the kind of person who experiences setback after setback but continues to try and do the RIGHT THING for herself. She restarts each day with good intentions, no matter what kind of train wreck the day before has been. I have long loved Liz Lemon (Tina Fey) for similar reasons on 30 Rock. These two comedic geniuses (Fey and Poehler) have finally been able to portray the ambiguities and paradoxes of being talented, smart, vulnerable, neurotic women in today's world. However, I think that Leslie Knope is somehow a bit more sincere and authentic about it - even while she is ridiculously ridiculous. So, anyway, I LOVE IT. LOVE IT.
Something else I love? The fact that I have gotten a headstart on my three "intentions" for the next 6 months. You'll remember, dear reader, that they are to - 1) start tracking WW points and work with a personal coach (starting Jan. 1), 2) get an average of 7 hours of sleep a night (with the help of restorative yoga) and 3) DECLUTTER and PURGE.
Well, number 3 is proceeding apace! Pictures are worth a thousand words. I present to you some free and clear countertops (you don't want to see the before pics):
I had a nap this afternoon, dreamed some weird dreams, woke up feeling melancholy again and have now almost written myself out of that melancholy here. This is the time of year that I would normally have visited my teacher in WV. I would have told her about all of the things that I have been hoping for and dreaming about this past year. I would have shared some painful experiences that I have had in recent months. But, I cannot do that anymore. This, indeed, is enough to make one feel melancholy. But, one of the things that I admired most about her was her ability to view each day as a restart, fresh with possibility. She was always like that. She didn't tolerate wallowing in the past. So, in honor of her, I am rallying! And, I will continue to start each day with the intention of finding the magic and the joy. The intention is what matters.
I'm off to visit family this week, dear reader, but I hope you all have a lovely New Year holiday.
Here's an excerpt of "In Memoriam" by Tennyson to keep you going. Thanks for reading!
Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light: The year is dying in the night; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go; Ring out the false, ring in the true. Ring out the grief that saps the mind For those that here we see no more; Ring out the feud of rich and poor, Ring in redress to all mankind. Ring out a slowly dying cause, And ancient forms of party strife; Ring in the nobler modes of life, With sweeter manners, purer laws.
Ring out the want, the care, the sin, The faithless coldness of the times; Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes But ring the fuller minstrel in. Ring out false pride in place and blood, The civic slander and the spite; Ring in the love of truth and right, Ring in the common love of good. Ring out old shapes of foul disease; Ring out the narrowing lust of gold; Ring out the thousand wars of old, Ring in the thousand years of peace. Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand; Ring out the darkness of the land, Ring in the Christ that is to be.
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