Today, I bought a wedding dress.
It's one of those things that's supposed to make you happy, fill you with glee, make you giddy and joyous all over because - heck - you've made it! You hit the jackpot! Every girl's dream, right?
And it was a sweet moment, sure. I did feel some lift of excitement. There was smiling involved.
And yet.
Lately, post-anxiety attack and in the midst of some ongoing health issues, I've been feeling pretty beat up and bruised, and my usually buoyant spirit subdued. Everything makes me sad, hurts my heart, throws me into fear. It seems as though my sensors for all the sadness in the world are on high alert. As I walk past people and look into their eyes, I sense their pain, their sorrow. And this makes me more pain-filled and sorrowful.
Needless to say, I'm super useful these days.
In the midst of all this sadness swelling, this hyper-awareness to all that ails the world, I feel a bit guilty for wanting to just be happy about the simple things. What does this pretty beading on my dress matter if people are in danger around the world? Why do I care what food will be served or what my hair will look like when my friends and neighbors are at risk of being deported, when so many are sad or lonely or hungry?
And yet.
This is not a particularly helpful disposition. The world can be a sad, hard place, if not for the efforts of the buoyant, the brave, the optimistic. I'm not much use to anyone if I'm wallowing all the time.
And it's a little insulting, right? When I'm serving meals at our church's community dinner, my heart hurts for the people coming in out of the cold, who are suffering from illness or addiction or who knows what else. But while compassion is certainly in order, pity is not. Wallowing and over-identifying and seeing only sadness and despair does not do justice to the incredible resilience and strength of people. It diminishes them, dehumanizes them, reduces them to their hard places. It refuses to tell the whole, complex story of a person, it glazes over their triumphs, their potential, their dignity.
I was recently reading something by Thich Nhat Hanh, and it said something to the effect of "see and experience enough of the world's suffering to increase your compassion, but don't take in so much that you become overwhelmed with despair." (I've totally butchered that). And I think there is some truth there. Empathy is helpful, in that it reminds us that other people have feelings. Our identification with the suffering of others compels us to action. This is a good thing. And yet too much identification with suffering incapacitates us. It fills us with fear and loathing and means that we are incapable of taking action.
This is me, lately.
I'm grateful for my own struggles over the last month, because I truly believe that it is teaching me. My pain reminds me that I'm vulnerable. I'm not perfect. I'm not indestructible. Pema Chodron said that compassion is not a relationship of the healer and the wounded, but rather a relationship between equals. Suffering is quieting my "savior syndrome." Nobody needs my saving any more than I do.
And yet.
There is something about the over identification with suffering that is troubling to me. I want to believe that there is good in the world. I want to remain hopeful. I want, so deeply, to take joy in small things. In dogs and babies and weddings. In listening to music or growing a tomato or shaking my hips to a Beyonce song. I want to believe that there is purpose to these small joys, too. That I am allowed to be happy, sometimes. That I don't always have to be sad, just because sadness exists.
Because that's how they get ya, right? That's how they win. The people in power create a world of sadness and steal your joy. To which I say, emphatically...no. No! No to joy stealing. Joy is motivating. Love is motivating. Beautiful dresses are motivating. These small things are not everything, but they are something. In a world of materialism, certainly we rely on things too much for our happiness. And yet just because materialism exists and can be destructive, doesn't mean that there is anything wrong with taking the occasional joy in the things of this earth. Right?
And so that's my prayer. To find some joy. To be happy when I see something silly. To relish in feeling beautiful once in awhile. To smile at small things. And in doing so, to find deep meaning and motivation to keep going, to keep trying, to keep acting. Because truly, for all those suffering in the world, all I wish for them is the same thing I wish for myself: the ability to love and be loved. To rejoice at small things. To feel the sun on their faces and smile with the heartbeat of the universe.
Love and hugs to all.
