Because the tongue is the body’s strongest muscle, make it say joy. ~Marty McConnell
There are days when everything is perfect. Your favorite sweater is clean, the milk for your cappuccino foamed perfectly, the cat cuddles in your lap without doing that annoying kneading-the-blanket thing or leaving 50% of her hair on your pants, aromas from the soup simmering on the stove waft throughout the house, everyone is kind and thoughtful and gracious and Second Son plays mellow tunes on his electric guitar rather than practicing with the distortion pedal.
And then there are days when everything sucks. Sometimes you know why, sometimes you don’t. Sometimes you’re just in a crabby/stressed/overwhelmed/frustrated mood for no apparent reason, or someone else is and either they don’t know or they aren’t telling you. The bread burns 10 minutes earlier than it was supposed to be done, the check you received two months late and then deposited bounces, the milk won’t foam.
Sometimes I can “force” day #2 to become day #1 with mindful awareness — a great yoga practice, doing the dishes slowly while Zenfully observing the soap bubbles and listening to the sound of the water, painting the kitchen ceiling or knitting one more row or scrubbing the bathroom.
Some days that’s more difficult. Some days the challenges are all outside of yourself, and all you can try to find isn’t even one bit of peace (even that eludes you) but maybe just the willingness to let it play itself out.
When to “fight,” when to “ride,” when to try to fix it, when to let it be. Like the challenge faced by any good poker player I guess.
I’m a doer, a fixer, a fighter. Do I need to work more on letting it be? (But what if “it,” whatever “it” is, is counting on me to fix it?)
I want to hold each day carefully in my hands. I want each and every one to last as long as possible, even the bad ones. We only have so many, you know, and the real stinker of it is none of us actually know how many that is.
I want, always, to say joy.