Every once in a while an event happens that causes every blogger to write about it. Nothing like that has happened recently, it just seems that the best articles come about when we examine our own lives in the light of some awful event or tragedy or untimely death. Nothing wrong with that, it is just that we as bloggers seem to write from our pain instead of our joy. All of society seems to relate to bad stuff and so we give in and write from our anguish and darkness not from that which is light and joyful. I’m no better, mostly. It is easy to use my blog to vent about what is wrong. It is much harder to express the positive because, well it is easier to bitch and moan than look deeper inside to find the good.
So today, no whining about bad coffee because I have the means necessary to have good coffee. I will not complain about being awake way too early (again), instead I will say how good it is just to be awake and alive. I will not complain about my diet because I have choices about what I may eat and way too many choices at that. This morning at least, life is good. Not because of what I have but because of who is around me. My wife (for some reason unknown to me) adores me. I work with a really nice (thought slightly off-center, like me) woman who seems to appreciate my own quirkiness.
If I really stop and think about it, I am content. I do still have to work, but I can work. I have bills, but almost everyone has bills, but I have a job and the means to pay my bills. I feel kinda old, or at least my hands do, but I can feel. I still get in the doldrums, but I don’t stay there as long. It is cold, but Florida cold, not Minnesota cold. My car needs cleaning, but I have a car. My desk is still messy, but it is messy because I’m busy, not because I’m lazy (although I am lazy sometimes still).
Contentment comes from within, I think. I tend to allow circumstances to define my moods not the inner me. I let the clouds and needy clients and my blood sugar define who I am. Who I am should define me. I forget to unclench my teeth and relax my shoulders and take 5 seconds to breathe. I forget the inner strength I have and dwell on the character faults I posses, or that sometimes possess me. I don’t want to sound like one of those “positive” mindset evangelists, it is just that we all have so much positive inside us that we forget to let out.
Writers and poets and painters and songwriters and singers and sculptors have long been labeled as somehow damaged, but in reality we are all damaged. Artists just seem to be able to take our damagedness and create beautiful things. I cannot paint or sing very well or sculpt or dance, but I feel the joy trying to wrench itself free from the turmoil that threatens to strangle all the life and light within when I write. I will still howl at the moon and I will still moan about the state of humanity in general and I will still be negative and poke at the ridiculous, but I will do it to release the joy and fun and contentment that is striving to be reborn in me.
See y’all soon.