Lately I keep thinking about the joy in small pleasures. Over Memorial Day Weekend, I felt some FOMO (“fear of missing out” for those of you unfamiliar with the acronym) because other people posted pictures of themselves at the beach, or taking a long hike, or chilling in someone’s backyard. I didn’t do any of those things. I was housesitting for some friends and swayed in a hammock while reading a good book. I picked strawberries straight from the plant and plucked snap peas off the vine.
Similarly, this past weekend I plopped blueberries directly into my mouth after pulling them from the bush. I had dinner with six adults and two kids indoors, without masks, for the first time since February 2020. I’m not ashamed to admit I felt moved by the experience.
For the past year and some change, I haven’t done any of the things I mentioned above because I don’t own a hammock, or blueberry bushes, or strawberry plants. I haven’t dined with a large group of friends because it was too challenging to maneuver safely and they didn’t feel comfortable putting themselves at risk without being vaccinated.
I think hammock time is my favorite time. Photo by 🇸🇮 Janko Ferlič on Unsplash
Coming out of this pandemic, I’m treasuring those small pleasures: a warm breeze, fresh fruit and vegetables, dinner with friends. None of the things I mentioned are big affairs like a birth, wedding, graduation, or heck, even a vacation. They’re mundane and it’s easy for me to forget how much joy I derive from them.
I forget it’s the small things, the pedestrian things that can also fill my heart to bursting. It’s not always the grand adventures or the big events that move me the most. Coming out of this pandemic has shown me that. It reminds me of Mary Oliver’s famous poem “The Summer Day.” She writes:
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean—
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down—
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
I know I’m often focused on the big things but maybe I can take a page from Mary Oliver’s book and remind myself my wild and precious life includes not only the clamor and the clangor of big events but also the quiet chirp of crickets and laughter among friends.
I dream of a world where we savor the simple pleasures. A world where we recognize the joy in the mundane. A world where we remember happiness can be found not only in winning an award or manifesting our dreams, but also in hugging a dear friend and playing with a small child.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
On Monday, I woke up feeling gross. In physical pain, emotionally drained, tired, and just generally cranky. I wished more than anything that I wasn’t in a physical body. Being a spirit, or angel, or something without form, sounded great. No pain! Just bliss! Alas, that’s not true.
Many years ago, a good friend told me there are only two positions for the feelings switch: on or off. That means either I’m numbed out to everything – joy, sorrow, anger, pain – or I have to feel everything. I can’t pick and choose which emotions I may feel. And that means some days I want to be over as quickly as possible.
If we’re not physical, we can’t enjoy things like skateboarding.
The idea of being a free-floating spirit is so tantalizing though! Would I be in bliss all day long? Would it be a non-stop pleasure fest? No, no it would not because a body is necessary to feel anything at all. And when I’m having a terrible day where I’m in physical pain and everything sucks, of course I don’t want to feel anything. But as my friend reminds me, feeling nothing means I also shut out the good things. The exhilaration of a roller coaster. The joy of spending time with a good friend. The peace of a gorgeous sunset. Without nerve fibers, there is . . . nothing so I must be physical.
I want to be happy all the time. I want to feel good all the time. We live in a society where we’re told if we’re not happy, something is wrong and we need to fix it. Start using affirmations or keep a gratitude journal, or quit a job, dump that boyfriend, go on that vacation. Most people are selling the five keys to happiness, but what if there’s nothing wrong with feeling icky? What if that’s what it means to be human?
We are caught in a pleasure/pain cycle but that’s normal. My spiritual teacher says over and over again that a human body is necessary for meditation and to achieve the ultimate union I seek. That to me means being physical is essential. There are no shortcuts. I don’t get to dance with the divine unless I’m inhabiting a human form. That means feeling sad and angry and disheartened. It also means feeling happy and peaceful and inspired. I don’t get to have some but not others.
I dream of a world where we remember being human means feeling pleasure and pain. A world where we remember we can’t feel good all of the time. A world where we realize while the idea of being non-physical sounds appealing, to experience what we’re really after, a human body is required.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
Lately, I keep hearing the message, “Only do things that make you feel good.” Or, “center your life around feeling good.” That sounds great! Who doesn’t want to feel good? I want to feel good all the time, but I see some real dangers from following that philosophy and giving into every desire that I have.
First of all, I’m an addict in recovery so for me, I’m the extreme example of doing whatever I could to feel good. I used to binge on food to the point of discomfort because once the pleasure switch got flipped, I couldn’t stop. It didn’t matter if I was hungry or not – I would keep eating the cookies because they tasted good. That’s part of the problem with the philosophy, “Only do things that make you feel good,” – there is no foresight. If all I can think about in the moment is how good the cookies taste, I’m not thinking in the future I’ll feel sick or have a stomachache. I’m only thinking about the present moment and enjoying it.
Mmmm. Looks good. But I’m allergic to almonds so eating this would be a bad idea no matter how pleasurable in the moment.
How often do we do this? Pursue something because it gives us pleasure and then suffer afterward? I still do this. There are so many foods I’m allergic to but I’ll still eat them sometimes because they taste good. I’m starting to realize, eating them is not worth it. Suffering for hours afterward is not worth the momentary pleasure I derive from eating a piece of pizza.
That’s the thing really about only doing what feels pleasurable, of chasing after desire. It’s temporary and fleeting. There is no lasting and permanent peace or happiness. There is no lasting satiation. That’s why I can’t abide by the “do it if it feels good” philosophy. Not only because I’ll only feel good for a second, but doing what feels good has consequences that more often than not leave me feeling crappy, especially if I haven’t thought my decision through.
I also find the “do it if it feels good” philosophy is rather selfish. I think about the blogpost I wrote back in August, “You plus me equals we,” where I spoke about the dentist who killed Cecil the Lion. That to me is a classic example of “do it if it feels good.” The dentist didn’t think about the consequences of killing Cecil, didn’t think about anything really, except satisfying his own desires. As a result, he caused an international uproar and destroyed his own business in the process as people chose to boycott him due to his actions.
Chasing after one desire and then another all the time only causes temporary relief from pain. Guys, I don’t want temporary relief, I want permanent relief. I want the ultimate good feeling, and I hate to say it, but it comes from practicing restraint and moderation. From using my brain, from thinking about the consequences of my actions, and also from attaching myself to the source of infinite happiness. Permanent happiness comes from meditating on the divine, to seeing everything as an expression of God, and keeping Source at the forefront of my mind. For an addict in recovery like me, it’s the only way I’ll achieve the fix I’m looking for.
I dream of a world where we remember there are consequences for our actions. A world where we don’t chase one desire after another because we realize we’ll never find the satisfaction that we seek. A world where we realize there’s only one way to feel good all the time, and that’s to ensconce ourselves in the divine.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.
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As this year is quickly coming to a close, I’m thinking about what I’d like the new year to bring. If I’m honest, I want to be happy all the time. I want my life to be a series of good things, of wishes coming true, of ease and grace. Yet, as I look back at this year, or any year, really, I see that’s not possible. Life is good things and bad things, marriages and divorces, deaths and births all smushed together.
I’ve tried to escape pain, to only experience pleasure, but pain is inescapable. There will always be pain and there will always be pleasure, but there will also always be something more than either. Call it love, call it God, call it Spirit, call it the universe. There exists something beyond me, that’s bigger than me that gives me peace of mind no matter what.
This isn’t me but it could be.
I used to set New Year’s resolutions, which morphed into intentions. My only intention for this year is to align myself closer with God, Spirit, the universe. When I’m in alignment, when I’m “feeling the love” so to speak, I feel OK regardless of the circumstances. So often I get caught up in one thing or another; the drama overtakes me and I overidentify with my pain. I feel helpless, like a little boat upon the sea getting bashed about by waves and wind.
I equate syncing up with the universe as diving down deep into the ocean where the water is less choppy and the wind blows above me. In essence, a state of mental equipoise. How great does that sound?!? I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to maintain a state of detachment, but I’d sure like to try. This year I’d like to experience bliss not attached to people or circumstances, but rather self-generating through dint of my spiritual practices. This year I’d like to experience divine, unconditional love. The kind I feel as a constant presence. This year I’d like to take a different approach to my trials as I remember their transient nature. I want to use my gifts to serve others in anyway I can and treat myself with all the love, care, and attention I deserve.
I have that wish for others too. I wish that we may all experience untold bliss like we’ve never experienced before. That we ascend to new heights and feel just how loved we are. That we maintain our mental equipoise and align ourselves with something greater than us. That we serve ourselves and others and practice the golden rule.
I dream of a world that I just described, a world where 2015 is a bright and blessed year for all of us. A world where we join together to create a new Earth.
Another world is not only possible, it’s probable.