An apologetic of joy

Many people are saying that this has been "a terrible week." Indeed, I don't need to look further than the news summary for evidence. Earthquake. Tsunami. People of my acquaintance in acute crisis. Laws threatening to radically change workers' rights. Countries in uprising. The list goes on--a terrible week, to be sure.

The only problem with that analysis is that it doesn't ring true for me. My own experience has been fantastic--opportunities, connections, moments to savor and a genuine love for life--all this has been my weekly summary.

So what's the deal? Some twisted form of Schadenfreude? Definitely not. On the contrary, I have been acutely aware that many in the world are experiencing some truly horrific circumstances this week. It doesn't give me pleasure when I consider this. But how is one to be with the dissonance between their week and mine?

I considered feeling guilty about all the good things that are happening to me, and all that I'm creating in my world. What right do I have to be truly content when so many are suffering? And then I remembered a conversation I once had with a student in my campus ministry. He questioned whether or not he "ought" to be meditating, seeking a peaceful space in which to quiet himself in the midst of a world that looks anything but peaceful. Shouldn't he rather seek solutions to the problems around him, and try to do something to improve the situation of others, rather than hang out in his own private Nirvana?

And that's where I helped him distinguish that the two options were not mutually exclusive. For what "self" do we bring to a troubled world that ever makes any difference? Certainly a centered, nurtured self will be well equipped to reach out with the same peace it knows in itself. From that perspective, I suggested, one doesn't meditate for oneself alone, but because the world is as it is.

I've noticed the same in myself this week--the ability to feel compassion without sinking into sympathetic despair. The openness to listen to a friend in deep distress, and be the space into which she might pour her sorrows. The ability to get caught up in a moment as ordinary as a sunset--on television, no less. :)

I don't know for certain, but I have a strong instinct that tells me I'm right where I'm supposed to be. I've taken my turn with disappointment, grief, and suffering. I will likely do so again one day. But as Marianne Williamson would confirm, my "playing small" and "hiding my light"--or even feeling guilty for it--doesn't serve anyone. And what does? Perhaps the simple gift of my joyful self to the world during what some are calling a "terrible" week.

Maybe that's the very thing that is most needed.

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Guilt for contentment

Or joy alongside hardship?

Choosing is easy