New Year’s is the traditional annual reboot from lives bogged down by unused, open tabs–plans to exercise, eat healthy, journal, clean out the garage, read a book. We keep glancing at them, annoyed and guilty, but won’t close them down as we sit down to watch The Queen’s Gambit with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s. But the heaping plate of happy indulgences at Christmas make us wince at the memory of our good intentions. And as we stare into the bleakest part of the year, we plan again to wrangle by willpower and shame a new routine of supposed goodness. It won’t be fun, but with discipline and determination we can make this happen. And while that initial energy lasts, the sheer accomplishment feels nice, like maybe we’re not the useless lumps we feared.
Sadly, willpower, like jumper cables, is not a fuel to keep things running. It must be motivated by something else–usually fear or shame or a sense of obligation, all of which are miserable motivators. No wonder it doesn’t last. We truly live when ignited by joy, hope, fulfillment, passion, awe–in short, what is life-enhancing rather than life-draining, what we are drawn into rather than what we force on ourselves.
Yesterday I went hiking with my two dogs on nearby trails that are also open to motorcyclists. With my dogs out in front, coming suddenly on a dirt-biker is a fright. I thought the rainy weather would be in my favor, and I picked a trail that was opened only a week or two before, hoping others were unaware. As I entered, I could see only one bike track, a good omen, but within 20 feet of the entrance, four bikers came careening around the bend ahead. I quickly dragged my dogs into the heavy undergrowth as the engines swept passed. I was quite agitated as I hiked for a mile up the trail, muddy from churning tires, though we met no one else. As I turned around to head back, I realized the unfortunate timing of the encounter. Had I hiked those two miles and only run into the bikes at the end, I would have had a great hike and thought myself lucky. It suddenly occurred to me that my outlook was shaping my unhappy experience and I could turn my mind towards enjoying the beautiful trail instead. This came not from a place of obligation “I should be happy,” or of shame, “I shouldn’t be angry,” but simply from a desire to enjoy the hike, to lean into the good that was already there for the taking. I really enjoyed the rest of the hike. What good might you embrace in the New Year?
The white-capped, jagged peaks Catch the clouds and collect them, Draping them like scarves across their shoulders. The sun dances between floating puffs, Painting the canvas below with light and shadow.
It shocks my heart with joy each time, This ten thousand year old sculpture, Always new, never changing, This staging ground of life and death Against which every disaster obliterates itself. As the world remains whole.
This unshakeable frame of history Breathes into me its strength, I will fail often and fail at last, But in our failing, the world endures, Folding us into its story,
Its beauty and goodness echoes in my soul, The glory within resonating to the glory without, My joyful agreement, invitation, oneness With all that is good in the universe. I am an indispensable character in the eternal drama.
So it does not trouble me that I don’t know the shape 2014 will take. Wait, did I just write that? What poppycock. I’m not okay with this at all. One of my coping mechanisms is to be in control of my life, and I can’t steer blind. 2013 ran out of road a week ago, and there are no more leaves to unfold on my map… the journey ahead simply wanders off the edge of the page. But the road carries me along still, without my leave. So, since I can’t see or direct my destination or route, I’ve settled on coloring in the shapes of each day.
My red crayon found this to highlight: “Every day, once a day, give yourself a present. Don’t plan it, don’t wait for it, just let it happen.” I like it! And after opening that daily treat, I want to jot down the experience in order to remind myself, to expand the pleasure, and to share it with others… not just for the treats I find, but for those that find me or ones I stumble upon. Someone even suggested keeping a photo journal, which I’ve been doing, and I think I’m kind of hooked.
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Here’s my “gift to self” from 2 days ago Mocha with a marshmallow. I haven’t put a marshmallow in hot chocolate for as long as I can remember. It brings back good memories of snow-frozen fingers wrapped around a hot cup and icy toes warming on a toasty hearth, watching the flames dance and sizzle.
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Yesterday, on my daily walk it was the unexpected beauty in winter’s deadness, nature’s ice sculpture
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Today’s pleasure was sitting in a quaint local coffee house to write this blog and then listen to a friend share heart issues.
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May you discover for yourself simple daily pleasures to add a little color to the dark days of winter.
This morning NPR interviewed a man with catalepsy, a cousin of narcolepsy. During REM sleep, our bodies release a certain chemical which tells all our muscles to relax (so we don’t literally act out our dreams). Unfortunately for a few folks, this chemical is released while they are awake, causing all their muscles to let go and thus paralyzing them. The release mechanism for this chemical is the person’s emotional response, and for the man on NPR (Walter?), it was especially triggered by his pleasurable emotions: excitement, happiness, love.
You can imagine the impact this would make on relationships, especially family relationships. With his wife, think of not only sex, but kissing, holding hands, talking about the children… engaging in any emotional connection. Walter described collapsing at a grandchild’s birthday party and on phonecalls with his children. He spent the whole time at his daughter’s wedding propped up like a bag of potatoes against the wall. Not just happy events themselves, but simply looking at photos of happy events can paralyze him. There is no cure, but he takes a medication which slows the attacks, so it now comes on at a pace which he can recognize and respond to.
On the radio he spoke slowly and with no inflection in his voice, trying to speak of emotional things while blocking out the natural emotions. His speech became slower, with more pauses, he remarked that his eyelids were feeling heavy, and then the NPR interviewer told the audience that Walter had to go lie down because he was slipping into paralysis. The show host went on to describe how Walter could only function in life by avoiding happy occasions, turning himself more and more into an unemotional machine. For Walter, happiness is not a good thing nor is connecting with others emotionally. Such a heavy burden to bear through life.
My struggles in life are much smaller than his, but his experiences had an echo in my own. Those things that once gave me pleasure in the first half of my life–whether great or moderate, exciting or fulfilling–are beyond my reach now. I am always tired, so tired that doing something enjoyable feels like a burden rather than blessing. When I have emotional energy I get great pleasure in so many things–reading, writing, conversing, celebrating, creating. Those are mostly a dim memory now, and I only eke out small, brief pleasures. The more taxed I am, the less ability I have to experience the good.
For the last few weeks, my heart is starting to recover from its latest downspike. The telltale sign of my recovery is that imagining the joys of life feels good rather than painful. Merely the thought of blogging, for instance, has been lead to my heart, but imagining it these days feels more like a little red balloon… even if I still have little energy for actually doing it.