I enjoyed this. I have adopted Tigger in the form of an Irish Setter puppy girl. My dog Happiness died unexpectedly in May--you mentioned sadness and I let myself grieve. However I realized I need a dog in my life, so ... she's 3.5 months old now. What do you name a dog that comes to you after Happiness the Irish Setter left without warning. Joy. I named her Joy.
Certainly you’ve read this poem by Camus, but these lines floated through me as I read your beautiful meditation on joy and sadness.
“In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.
And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back.”
This touched my heart at a time when I’m learning that being an adult might mean that I allow sadness and joy to coexist within me. That they are not opposite to each other as much as part of the same experience. Thank you.
"But consider this: joy can come first, not to supplant sadness but to balance it." I seem to be coming across something like this in a lot of my reading lately. I grew up in a family context that wired me to see happiness and joy as threats. I'm working to change that habitual thinking. It's a slow process! I probably have a naturally Eeyore/Piglet (worried) temperament, but I would like more equanimity. I continue to love this series, Julie.
Thanks for adding your thoughts, Emily. It's fascinating -- my own upbringing treated not happiness, but *sadness* as the threat, and medicated with heavy doses of sarcasm. (As my brother later observed, "Sarcasm is a weapon.")
Thank you for your honest and thought full look at this line. I found I had to go back to that realization in your second essay and the comments. "Where there is sadness, [let me sow] joy." This line has long troubled me, it could be seen to give permission to all those efforts to 'cheer up' the grieving heart--your own or worse-someone else, comments that discount process of grief. On the other hand, comfort can give a joy in having a burden shared. If I listen to your pain and you know I have heard, the burden is lighter--at least in that moment. If I take my own sadness on a walk or just out into sunlight, I sow joy.
Love that - take your sadness for a walk in the sun. If I’m not feeling too stubborn, I’ll let my hands cheer me up by making something — anything, could be drawing, baking, knitting, even folding laundry. Busy hands are healing, too.
I, too, used to feel guilty if I didn’t check off everything on my To Do list before relaxing. (I think we got that from Mom). Since retirement, I have slowly trained myself to ignore the To Do list and do what I feel like doing, when I feel like doing it. Maybe a little too well!
Since the election, the two overwhelming emotions I feel are anger and sadness. But there are moments of joy, such as a day like today, when I’ll join family members for dinner. Then return home and wallow incessantly again in sadness and anger that so many people preferred an orange felon, a despicable narcissist & misogynist, to a highly qualified woman.
Do I ever feel this. I’ve had to take tiny sips of news because it’s too overwhelming otherwise. (And that’s on purpose, to sap our will to resist.) I’m glad you’ll have a fun day with family. Remember that time you and Kyle came to our house, and Mom and Dad? That photo came up on my FB memories. Was that 20 years ago? 🤔
Kyle and I were talking about that today—Poet and Peter deep-fried a turkey in your backyard. It was either 2005 or 2006, I think. The photo came up on my FB feed, too.
I enjoyed this. I have adopted Tigger in the form of an Irish Setter puppy girl. My dog Happiness died unexpectedly in May--you mentioned sadness and I let myself grieve. However I realized I need a dog in my life, so ... she's 3.5 months old now. What do you name a dog that comes to you after Happiness the Irish Setter left without warning. Joy. I named her Joy.
That’s perfect! This makes me so happy to hear, Polly. Hope you’re enjoying the holiday. 🕊️🤍
Certainly you’ve read this poem by Camus, but these lines floated through me as I read your beautiful meditation on joy and sadness.
“In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.
And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back.”
That’s beautiful, Kimberly! I don’t know that one. Thanks for bringing it here. 🕊️🤍
This touched my heart at a time when I’m learning that being an adult might mean that I allow sadness and joy to coexist within me. That they are not opposite to each other as much as part of the same experience. Thank you.
Oooo, well said, Priya. Part of the same experience = yes. Thanks for sharing that. 🕊️🤍
"But consider this: joy can come first, not to supplant sadness but to balance it." I seem to be coming across something like this in a lot of my reading lately. I grew up in a family context that wired me to see happiness and joy as threats. I'm working to change that habitual thinking. It's a slow process! I probably have a naturally Eeyore/Piglet (worried) temperament, but I would like more equanimity. I continue to love this series, Julie.
Thanks for adding your thoughts, Emily. It's fascinating -- my own upbringing treated not happiness, but *sadness* as the threat, and medicated with heavy doses of sarcasm. (As my brother later observed, "Sarcasm is a weapon.")
Everyone has a different story. The more stories I learn, the more context (and help, really) I have for my own. Thank you.
Thank you for your honest and thought full look at this line. I found I had to go back to that realization in your second essay and the comments. "Where there is sadness, [let me sow] joy." This line has long troubled me, it could be seen to give permission to all those efforts to 'cheer up' the grieving heart--your own or worse-someone else, comments that discount process of grief. On the other hand, comfort can give a joy in having a burden shared. If I listen to your pain and you know I have heard, the burden is lighter--at least in that moment. If I take my own sadness on a walk or just out into sunlight, I sow joy.
Love that - take your sadness for a walk in the sun. If I’m not feeling too stubborn, I’ll let my hands cheer me up by making something — anything, could be drawing, baking, knitting, even folding laundry. Busy hands are healing, too.
That painting!!!! It embodies my joy.
Ooo, I’m so glad! That was the idea. ☺️🕊️🤍
I send my grateful thanks to you today Julie and also to all those who follow you.
An invitation to be in a band joyous people sounds perfect in this time. It’s an opening into our hearts which we should not miss.
Finding power is not it but finding possibility is.
Thanks for being here, Margaret. 🕊️🤍
This is lovely and thought-provoking. If you’re Eyore and Rabbit, what am I? I’ve got a fair bit of donkey to be sure. 😉
It’s fun to think about. Hmmm. 🤔 Maybe you’re Christopher Robin?
I, too, used to feel guilty if I didn’t check off everything on my To Do list before relaxing. (I think we got that from Mom). Since retirement, I have slowly trained myself to ignore the To Do list and do what I feel like doing, when I feel like doing it. Maybe a little too well!
Since the election, the two overwhelming emotions I feel are anger and sadness. But there are moments of joy, such as a day like today, when I’ll join family members for dinner. Then return home and wallow incessantly again in sadness and anger that so many people preferred an orange felon, a despicable narcissist & misogynist, to a highly qualified woman.
Do I ever feel this. I’ve had to take tiny sips of news because it’s too overwhelming otherwise. (And that’s on purpose, to sap our will to resist.) I’m glad you’ll have a fun day with family. Remember that time you and Kyle came to our house, and Mom and Dad? That photo came up on my FB memories. Was that 20 years ago? 🤔
Kyle and I were talking about that today—Poet and Peter deep-fried a turkey in your backyard. It was either 2005 or 2006, I think. The photo came up on my FB feed, too.
I am enjoying your treatment of this so much. Thank you, Julie.
Thanks for reading, David. I appreciate your letting me know. (This one was a struggle.)