The Joy of Ordinary

I’m waiting for the wintry onslaught with a fresh pot of strong coffee. It’s almost an espresso roast that could walk on its own; just the strength I love. I got all my work done yesterday so that I can enjoy Winter’s blast in lazy comfort today; reading, listening to music, working on some art, meditating, and a napping.

For a while now I’ve been feeling this wonderful sense of “settled” growing in me. It's not a “give up” settled, but more a contentedness. An almost cosmic sense of having exactly what I need and not longing for anything more. If I had to put it into a statement it would be, “I am here, right now in this very moment, with everything I need and I don’t want for more.” I’m not rich, not famous, not powerful or even “worldly” to much of a degree. There are places I’d love to go I know I’ll never get to. Things I’d like to see in person I know I won’t. Good people in the world I will never meet. Sometimes I eat too much, have one Old Fashioned too many, stay up later than I should, sleep later than I intended, and sometimes don’t get everything done in the day I’d hoped to. Strangely enough that gives me a profound sense of comfort; that everything is okay. It’s a deeper sense of happiness and contentedness sprinkled with a dusting of a profound confidence as their product. The ordinariness of my life, the joy of the every day and the sense of comfort and place that accompanies it is absolutely delicious.

Mattering

I went to a birthday party last night. I had a couple cocktails, a gummy, saw lots of friends, sang happy birthday, and ate some really good food. You know what though? There’s a lot of the evening I feel I’ve outgrown. Yes, it was fun but being home comfortable and safe in my space would have been just as fun.

There are a good many things I find infinitely fulfilling; taking a walk, reading, listening to music, enjoying the companionship of my dog, the list goes on. These things touch a place in me where meaning and purpose flow from. I feel these things resonate there, spill out, and flood my essence. It anchors me in the moment with a deep, mindful, and self-aware joy. I’m not certain many others, if any, at that party last night feel or could understand that. The problems and frustrations of the day are all temporary matters. They are not constructions of the universe. They are complications we've designed to help us feel like we matter. The thing is we already do. Most don't slow down long enough to feel it all welling up from within themselves.

Moving through life aware of my own finiteness comforts me. I know the day will come when I cease to be and I will return from where I came. Knowing that as tiny as I am in the cosmos I played a part and I mattered. It wasn't my credit score, how much debt I amassed, what kind of car I drove, how big my house was, or how much money I had in my checking account. When the time comes it will be that I was self-aware enough to know simply being here mattered.

Lessons in Happiness

I went to what was hands-down the strangest wedding and reception last night. For starters it was a combination wedding/reception/baby shower. The groom was the brother of one of my closest friends. They’d already had a baby and been married in a courthouse ceremony but wanted the “official” thing, so it was kind of a redo, more for the mother of the bride's sake, I suspect.

Friends at my table kind of heckled the whole thing as a little “lower”. The carafes of wine at the tables were suspect, looking more like a strange rosé Kool-Aid. The open bar was bizarrely stocked. No bourbon just scotch, several bottles grenadine, rums I'd never heard of, and no lemons, only limes. The bar was supposed to be open from 7 - 11pm, but the bartender kept telling us, "Not yet!" The silverware was mismatched. The dinnerware was standard cafeteria issue. It was Mystery Meat Night with what I think was boneless chicken breasts and some sort of paper-thin Salisbury Steak’ish kind of thing. The mashed potatoes clearly came from a box, and the salad was a weird concoction with Lima beans and pigeon peas. After dinner the DJ got going with 80s music and a smoke machine that turned the reception into a weird retro-80s gay bar vibe. The entire thing, start to finish, from the front door to the back was what some people would politely call "tacky".

The entire evening though, I watched the room. Observing, I realized everyone there was truly happy. The bride and groom were all smiles, their parents were completely in their element, and everyone was dancing, laughing, drinking, taking pictures, shuffling around tables to visit, etc. Everyone was present and very much in the moment. No one there gave two shits about what the beef dish was supposed to be, if the silverware matched, or that the plates weren't fine china. It simply didn't matter. That's not what the evening was about. It was about all the individual joys of the evening and the collective joy of the room.

The evening was a tremendous life lesson about what genuine and unconditioned happiness is. I came home last night feeling uplifted, having had the time of my life, and I went to bed feeling like I get "it” just a bit more than I did before.

JOMO

 I can't love this enough!

Our Brief History

We think life is long. It's not. We're just a teeny blip on the timeline. A tiny gear in the machine of the Universe. So we need to grab all the joy and happiness we can and never, ever live with regret no matter what. Something in your life not what you want or not bringing you joy? Don't waste a single moment more on it. Dump it and don't look back. Do not come to the end of it all having regrets over missed opportunities. 

Someone said when Death comes and takes the first bite out of them, they want it to be the juiciest, most delicious bite Death has ever taken. Death will realize this was a person who lived a full life and squeezed every last drop out of it. 

I couldn't agree more. 

The Thievery of Joy

Comparison truly is the thief of joy.

Through an odd set of circumstances, this morning I found out the salary of an old friend of mine I haven't seen in years. Now I have a very comfortable salary, but he makes, literally, over three times what I make. That's an obscene amount of money!

I immediately started comparing myself to him.
"He probably has a great house, and here I am living in an apartment."
"He probably drives a brand new car."
"How could I possibly feel good about myself if we were in each other's company." and on and on it went for about five minutes as I sank deeper into a "flash despair" the kind that comes on quickly and hits you hard. Right in the gut. 

Then in as quick a flash, I realized I'd slipped into that comparison trap again. I quickly lifted myself out it. I reminded myself that all the material things in the world can't replace honest joy, the kind that can only come from the inside. Is my friend happy with his life? I sure hope so. Am I happy with mine? Absolutely. When I stop laying everyone else's template over myself is when I'm reminded that happiness and joy truly are very intimate, inside jobs.

The Awareness of Coffee

I was making the morning coffee and I suddenly had an overwhelming sensation. It was as if each step in making the coffee was its own plane I was moving through. I could see the ones behind and the one in front. It gave me a sudden sense of immediacy and hyper awareness. The task of making coffee itself became like something almost removed from time itself and there was a sort of organic or living joy to the task.

My friend Dan said I seemed to be adopting the mental attitude and existential meaning of the Japanese Tea Ceremony. I like that. 

Early Morning

The hours between roughly 4 am and 9 am are my favorite. It is the most serene and tranquil part of the day. I get up and putz around my kitchen in the quiet darkness. I either turn on the coffeemaker or put water on to boil for the French Press. When the coffee is ready I sit quietly. It's just me alone with an uncluttered mind. The day's cacophony of junk hasn't invaded my space just yet. Sometimes I sit and just reflect, sometimes I watch where my mind wanders and enjoy the path, sometimes I read, or sometimes I write. In the wintertime I love to see the sun coming up and casting a bluish glow off o the snow and on to everything. Regardless of the season moving from darkness to the warm glow of sunrise is an intimacy that few take the time to appreciate. It's a very personal time that is a joy and a treasure.

Secrets to a Happy Life

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Perspectives and Pigeon Holes

I love the way a trip can give a person perspective. It's like a reverse microscope. The further one gets away from “life back home,” the details of that life come finer, more intricate, not fuzzier. One can see the individual parts of that life and how they all interact with one another.

That said, I’ve been feeling some anxiety lately. I'm starting nursing school in the fall of this year, and it's been causing a nebulous churning inside me. It’s an uneasiness I’ve been having difficulty identifying and getting my brain around. My recent weekend getaway to San Francisco helped me get perspective though, and I realized some things about myself that helped.

One, I’m a pigeon-holer. I like everything in its own neat, little, organized cubby hole. And if it’s not, that’s where anxiety takes root for me. Facets of a task or some aspect of my life just “hanging out there” unorganized or unassigned to some schedule or framework I’ve devised in my head makes me nervous. Two, I realized I’m not afraid of or nervous about tackling and comprehending the academic aspects of nursing school. I have no doubt or concern about that what so ever.

And there’s where the perspective comes in. Being away from my "home self" for a while, I was able to see my nebulous worry from afar which helped me to observe it objectively and identify its parts. The uneasiness wasn’t the academic challenges ahead. It was the almost impossible schedule I’d created in my head. I was so focused on the how of it all. I kept fretting over how will all the parts of my life (work, school, social, relationships, etc.) interact and fit together. I was so focused on that that I lost sight of appreciating the moment and staying present. My anxiety was stealing my joy and sense of accomplishments thus far in getting to where I'm at.

I realized I can only address what’s in front of me. The parts out of my control are just that, out of my control. The future can’t be organized or pigeon-holed. I can prepare for the future in the here and now, definitely. There is nothing wrong with that. I cannot, however, control my future. Coming to this revelation, understanding that and giving up the senseless frustration of trying to control the future was a revelation and another major step in my growth.

Mindfulness

"When the Buddha was asked, 'Sir, what do you and your monks practice?' he replied, 'We sit. We walk, and we eat.' The questioner continued, 'But Sir, everyone sits, walks and eats.' And the Buddha told him, 'When we sit we know we are sitting. When we walk, we know we are walking. When we eat, we know we are eating.' 
Most of the time we are lost in the past, or carried away by future projects and concerns. When we are mindful, touching deeply the present moment, we can see and listen deeply, and the fruits are always understanding, acceptance, love and the desire to relieve suffering and bring joy."
— Thich Nhat Hanh, Living Buddha, Living Christ