Catharine I don’t know about you, but I keep finding new ways to feel exhausted. It’s almost a game. How many ways can one feel exhausted?
On the other hand, I’m also finding new ways to feel alive. Things like noticing that the neighbors have cool blankets on their porch. Hearing the variety of dog barks around the house. Folding clothes and getting some new ones for the kids for school that they are simply delighted by.
Eating has been a source of stress and joy. I’ve made some meals recently that everyone liked. Nothing that would sound particularly impressive or interesting, but a huge, huge deal.
Also.. for some reason Youtube decided to start showing me videos of people literally on their deathbeds or close, and it’s given me perspective. I don’t know how much time I’ll have, or how much time anyone will have. It’s a gift to have an opportunity to do anything at all. I meet people who are like.. suffering worse than I am all the time, and I’m like… yes, I have some difficult things, *and* I still have so much. I am thankful for the ability to walk, to drive a car, to have my vision, the ability to smell flowers. I’m thankful for my memory- to recognize people when I see them, and know who they are and how I know them. I’m thankful to have family.
I think that chronically positive people sometimes get labeled as “toxically positive” when they try to force their joy on others, and certainly, forcing joy is ugly. Never good. Some people are spiritually abusive with that concept, too. A lot of people have deep wounds even around the word “joy.” As if they “should” feel joy. It’s way too personal, and too involuntary, of a thing to have been attacked in this way. Joy is part of the heart and soul. It’s part of the autonomic nervous system, as far as I’m concerned. I’m sure some doctor could weigh in on that but I’m not interested in knowing what they think because here’s the thing- I know that you cannot choose to feel emotion. You can’t. It happens. It’s a natural process of the body experiencing life.
Anyway. I wasn’t really sure what to write today; I just knew that I wanted to write something.
I’m grateful when I hear my cat snoring. He’s been with me for nearly 12 years now. I don’t know how long Atticus will be with me. He’s the most delightful ball of fluff. He’s always happy to see you, unless it’s me and I’m chasing him to grab him to try to give him a bath, which does unfortunately occasionally have to happen.
I’m thankful for things I don’t feel I can write about, because I’m afraid it will sound like a humble-brag of some kind. Everything we have- everything anyone has- is something someone else doesn’t have. That’s the thing. There is no good or perfect way to navigate this aspect of life other than with gratitude and humility that we don’t deserve anything good or bad, and neither does anyone else. It goes against the Calvinistic thinking I used to have. Sin-thinking. To think that we deserve punishment. I think it’s possible to say that there is injustice within everything, while there is also justice within everything. That the human condition is one in which every time something is possessed, it is removed from being able to be possessed by someone else. Nothing is fair. There is no such thing as fairness. No such thing, really, as pure altruism- as altruism is often also in the best interests of the giver.
What’s true is that every moment in life is an opportunity. That’s something that is unendingly true. It’s a huge open-ended truth. It would be nice to tie this up with some ribbons of… every moment is an opportunity to love, to seek joy, blah blah blah and ok, yes, yes ok, yes but there is no judgment. Every moment is an opportunity to listen to one’s heart, and listen to how one feels, and be in tune with it. Human connection gives life meaning and purpose. There is always opportunity for that. I’ve probably written about this in terms of “love” before but it doesn’t have to fit into that word, though I think that connection is, fundamentally, love. Love doesn’t always do something. Sometimes love is simply presence. Attention. I think that this is the essence of the human condition, why we are here, and what we will always be capable of doing, as long as our brains function at all. I think it’s worth living for. But all I know is what is in front of me. And what I see is that we’re all suffering in different ways, and every time someone is honest about suffering, it’s a chance to provide presence. We heal together.
