Especially as the new year begins – with all its wildness, wonder, hope and expectation – I’d like to start on the right and joyful foot. It’s very easy to gripe on the internet. I can post about pet peeves, things that bug me, critiques of culture, problems with humanity, or petty difficulties. It is far more difficult to write about something merely enjoyable (even from a purely presentational point of view.) Today I’d just like to say:
I’m thankful.
Thankful for friends. For family. For my past experiences. For future opportunities. For hot chocolate, poems, trees, and good books. For airplanes, singing, movies, and chalk. For a lot of things, really.
It’s a strange sort of thing, but it feels trivial to be happy – let alone to write about it. We feel painful and broken things in such a way that they seem to be “more real.” To say “Life is Good” is to be a (presumably youthful) optimist without experience in the “real” world. To proclaim “Life is meaningless and, what’s more, it sucks” is to be urbane and to understand how life really works.
Part of this phenomenon could stem from pain’s relative intensity, but whatever the underlying cause – it feels that pain is real, whereas happiness is an illusion or dream. To suffer is to be human, to be happy is to be a simpleton. The challenge is to remember that joy is just as real as sadness. It is still a heart issue.
We ought to be excited in any point on the spectrum of our lives. Being happy, understanding why and even recognizing its temporary or fluctuating nature, requires far more strength and endurance than one may first think. Pain is not “more real,” but simply a more jarring experience. Right now, however, I am feeling thankful … and there is nothing simple or imaginary about it.
For pianos and pomegranates. For noise and silence and singing and tea. For best friends, secret gardens and sparkling cider. For God’s grace and love and perfectness. :)