Are you placid?
I guess what I’m trying to figure out, net-net, is happiness. I have a seismic capacity for joy, and I’m lifelong grateful. But it eludes me, I can’t just call it up, like, “Hey babe, joy time! Get up and keep me company.”
Alternative question: moods?
A reasonable number of us have just spent a year and a half in which our daily physical lives (shall we say in an understated way) lacked variety? And yet who among us did not ride waves of rage and irritation and anxiety and awe and contentment and sorrow and fear?
If that was just me I need to reevaluate.
Maybe we just have moods to help us stay alive? Maybe we’re complicated systems built to be hyper-reactive to threats, thus we can’t live in peace without diligent practice like monks and goddesses?
It could just be that those of us who have assured physical safety haven’t evolved yet to feel safe. Since we’re still attracted to opiates and fat and sugar and alcohol, still fertile in the face of so many humans, still prone to ‘othering’ people who look different than us, we can imagine that evolution moves slowly.
Hey. How are you this morning? I’m good. The dogwoods have reddened; the ferns are still green, white Japanese anemones star the garden at knee-height. And a little bubble of joy, rising always rising and remaking, has made a home below my heart.
Have a wonderful weekend.