Happiness
28/05/19 05:26
Fog and rain changed my plans. I didn’t get the lawn mowed yesterday. And it is really growing. I suppose I should have tackled it on Saturday, but there were still areas covered in snow back then. Oh well, one day it will dry out enough to mow and I’ll be moving slowly. I’ve been there before. In the meantime, I’ve lived in dry places enough years of my life not to complain about moisture.
The water is causing problems for those downstream and in general the weather has been a real problem in Missouri and other states. We are lucky and we know it. And, as I say to folks when the ask, “It appears that I am waterproof. I’m not as wet from the rain as I get from falling in the lake.”
And when people ask how I am, I usually respond by saying, “I am well,” which is true. My health is generally very good. But those words don’t tell the real story. I’m a happy person. There is a lot of joy in my life. There is much to which I am looking forward. In three weeks, our son and his family will arrive for a week’s visit. The next day, My wife’s sister, her husband and granddaughter arrive. That means that we’ll have ten people in our house where normally we have two. We have plenty of room, but things need to be rearranged a bit. A basement room that often is the place where we do ironing and sewing and store a few items needs to become a play room with toys for four busy and active children. A bedroom that is used as an office needs to be available for people to sleep. Another small room, where the closet is occupied by our off season clothes needs to be ready to receive guests. Windows need to be washed. Carpets need to be shampooed. We had no shortages of things to do on a rainy day yesterday. Of course the lawn needs to be mowed several times before they arrive, but I’ll get to that in due time.
I think that one of the reasons that I am happy is that I have plenty of meaningful work to do. It isn’t just the work of preparing our home for guests. I also have meaningful work waiting for me at the church. I visit with people dealing with medical crises, I celebrate with graduates, I witness marriages, I baptize infants, I get to do any number of wonderful things that make up for the other times when I scout problems in the computer system, fill out forms for church bureaucrats, sit through meetings that could be better run, and serve as the chief complaint officer for matters ranging from the volume of the hymns to the temperature in the sanctuary to the types of cookies chosen for coffee hour. I always take the complaints with a small dose of gratitude that they aren’t complaining about the pastor, but then again, they probably take those complaints elsewhere and I just don’t hear them.
One of the gifts of being a bit older and having had some wonderful experiences in life is that I have come to know that real joy is much deeper than a flash of euphoria. The search for a continual succession of pleasure leads to exhaustion, not to happiness. Part of what makes me happy in my everyday life is the result of some deep commitments that have been made. I can’t explain to a twenty-something the joys of growing old together, but I can let them know that there is true joy in keeping promises that I made when I was twenty. A young couple planning their wedding can’t imagine being more in love than they feel at the moment, but I can look at them and know that love deepens over time and life has more for them than the present, as wonderful as that is.
I’ve read quite a few books on presentness and other Buddhist principles of living in the moment and seeing the beauty that is present. I’ve tried some of the practices of meditation, and I have an active prayer life. But part of the joy of my life is that the present is infused with memories of the past and anticipation of the future. I don’t live in the present only. I treasure my memories and return to them regularly. I have high hopes for the future and the hope is part of the energizing force of my life.
I’m confident that I am happier today, having invested energy yesterday in preparing to receive guests than I would be if I had spent the entire day studying the fog and rain and quietly appreciating the beauty of nature. It isn’t that I don’t see and appreciate the beauty, it is just that my life is always more complex than a simple focus on one moment only.
I am aware how precious the present is. I know that there are diseases that rob one of memory and that I am not immune to any disease. I know that the wonder and joy of this time of my life will not last forever. And I am blessed to have few regrets in my lie. I’ve made mistakes, but I have also learned how to apologize. I’ve learned better ways to do some things and better ways to manage my resources. But I am not so naive as to believe that I won’t make more mistakes in the future.
So I am more than just well. I am happy. I am content. I am excited about what is coming. I probably have more to say about my present condition than the person asking a simple question about my well being wants to know.
One of these days, when I get time, I plan to read Matthieu Ricard’s book, “Happiness: A Guide to Developing Life’s Most Important Skill.” I’m guessing, however, without having read the book, that perhaps I’m working on developing that skill without having read the book.
The water is causing problems for those downstream and in general the weather has been a real problem in Missouri and other states. We are lucky and we know it. And, as I say to folks when the ask, “It appears that I am waterproof. I’m not as wet from the rain as I get from falling in the lake.”
And when people ask how I am, I usually respond by saying, “I am well,” which is true. My health is generally very good. But those words don’t tell the real story. I’m a happy person. There is a lot of joy in my life. There is much to which I am looking forward. In three weeks, our son and his family will arrive for a week’s visit. The next day, My wife’s sister, her husband and granddaughter arrive. That means that we’ll have ten people in our house where normally we have two. We have plenty of room, but things need to be rearranged a bit. A basement room that often is the place where we do ironing and sewing and store a few items needs to become a play room with toys for four busy and active children. A bedroom that is used as an office needs to be available for people to sleep. Another small room, where the closet is occupied by our off season clothes needs to be ready to receive guests. Windows need to be washed. Carpets need to be shampooed. We had no shortages of things to do on a rainy day yesterday. Of course the lawn needs to be mowed several times before they arrive, but I’ll get to that in due time.
I think that one of the reasons that I am happy is that I have plenty of meaningful work to do. It isn’t just the work of preparing our home for guests. I also have meaningful work waiting for me at the church. I visit with people dealing with medical crises, I celebrate with graduates, I witness marriages, I baptize infants, I get to do any number of wonderful things that make up for the other times when I scout problems in the computer system, fill out forms for church bureaucrats, sit through meetings that could be better run, and serve as the chief complaint officer for matters ranging from the volume of the hymns to the temperature in the sanctuary to the types of cookies chosen for coffee hour. I always take the complaints with a small dose of gratitude that they aren’t complaining about the pastor, but then again, they probably take those complaints elsewhere and I just don’t hear them.
One of the gifts of being a bit older and having had some wonderful experiences in life is that I have come to know that real joy is much deeper than a flash of euphoria. The search for a continual succession of pleasure leads to exhaustion, not to happiness. Part of what makes me happy in my everyday life is the result of some deep commitments that have been made. I can’t explain to a twenty-something the joys of growing old together, but I can let them know that there is true joy in keeping promises that I made when I was twenty. A young couple planning their wedding can’t imagine being more in love than they feel at the moment, but I can look at them and know that love deepens over time and life has more for them than the present, as wonderful as that is.
I’ve read quite a few books on presentness and other Buddhist principles of living in the moment and seeing the beauty that is present. I’ve tried some of the practices of meditation, and I have an active prayer life. But part of the joy of my life is that the present is infused with memories of the past and anticipation of the future. I don’t live in the present only. I treasure my memories and return to them regularly. I have high hopes for the future and the hope is part of the energizing force of my life.
I’m confident that I am happier today, having invested energy yesterday in preparing to receive guests than I would be if I had spent the entire day studying the fog and rain and quietly appreciating the beauty of nature. It isn’t that I don’t see and appreciate the beauty, it is just that my life is always more complex than a simple focus on one moment only.
I am aware how precious the present is. I know that there are diseases that rob one of memory and that I am not immune to any disease. I know that the wonder and joy of this time of my life will not last forever. And I am blessed to have few regrets in my lie. I’ve made mistakes, but I have also learned how to apologize. I’ve learned better ways to do some things and better ways to manage my resources. But I am not so naive as to believe that I won’t make more mistakes in the future.
So I am more than just well. I am happy. I am content. I am excited about what is coming. I probably have more to say about my present condition than the person asking a simple question about my well being wants to know.
One of these days, when I get time, I plan to read Matthieu Ricard’s book, “Happiness: A Guide to Developing Life’s Most Important Skill.” I’m guessing, however, without having read the book, that perhaps I’m working on developing that skill without having read the book.