A very unfamiliar thought has been appearing in my mind recently. 

I am happy. 

When that thought comes into my head, I’m frankly unsettled. Maybe because the feeling or thought isn’t associated with anything in particular, and it’s more about a state of being. It’s not that I’m happy about the fact that I got free head shots taken today at Cannery Row (although I did) or that I ate really good pepper and tomato soup. It’s just the thought I get when I’m sitting in a chair on my front porch, and I see how the trees in our yard have filled out with beautiful, thick greenery in a matter of a few rains. I have this bizarre thought when I am laying next to my husband in bed, ready to fall asleep, and I can feel him breathing next to me. I have this thought when I contemplate the fact that I have a lot of freedom and free time in my life now (comparatively), and I have more choices about what I spend my time doing. I think, so this is what being happy feels like, and I realize that maybe I am just now approaching a place where I give myself permission to experience this feeling. I don’t know much about it. I’ve not been happy on the inside much, or a happy that’s not related to how well things are going for me. Usually when I get too happy, I try to shoot it down with one of my negativity darts. Safer that way.

In this manner, of course I can quickly dispel the happies by thinking about things like our debt. But I don’t want to dwell on those things more than I have to. I guess I realize the value of choosing mental battles. I want to give myself a chance at being happy, which is a lot trickier and more elusive for me than you would believe, if you have been happy more often than not in your life. 

Sneaky little feelings of happiness are all I can ask for these days.

I read Jeana Sohn’s blog on a regular basis, and I borrowed this quiz from her because it’s a slow rainy day and it so inspired me. I love Jeana because I feel that her life embodies the concept of everyday extraordinary. She’s an artist who finds joy in the smallest things: a piece of fruit, her cat, a new table. And it’s so refreshing. Plus I can tell that she and her husband really love each other.

What is your current obsession? 
the Twilight series, the blue jay and the cardinal that live in my yard, thinking about our anniversary trip next month, CookingLight.com

What are you wearing right now? 
A pair of really old black dress pants, a red sweater, denim jacket and silver shoes 

What is the perfect day to you? 
Waking up really early and enjoying the peaceful morning stillness, eating a crispy bagel from Einstein’s, going to the spa, going shopping, going on a romantic date to a trendy restaurant with Erik, hanging out with close friends, having a few drinks and dancing the night away 

Who was the last person you hugged? 
Jeany Perry, the Pilcher accountant, who by the way has the best skin I’ve ever seen on a 50-year-old 

If you were a tree, what tree would you be?
silver maple or cherry tree

What’s for dinner? 
Twice-baked salmon potatoes (thank you Cooking Light!) 

What was the last thing you bought? 
peanut butter crackers from the snack machine, paper towels 

What are you listening to right now?
Danyew—I’m writing a review of his record 

What do you hear right now?
Cars driving by in the rain

What is your favourite weather?
blue skies on a warm spring day

What’s on your beside table?
A black wrought-iron candle holder, green candles, a pale green dish with perfume, chapstick and Elizabeth Arden lotion

If you could have a house totally paid for, fully furnished anywhere in the world, where would you want it to be?
Nashville, in Hillsboro Village

Favourite vacation spot? 
I love the steaminess of Florida or camping in the Smokies, or anywhere I’ve never been. Now that I no longer live in California, I bet I will like to vacation there too. 

Name the things you can’t live without. 
snuggling with my husband, lip gloss, eyeliner, Hudson jeans, my Mac, our Tempurpedic bed, and getting my hair cut/colored (I really, really tried) 

What would you like to have in your hands right now? 
enough money to buy myself a spray tan and a new outfit 

What is your favourite tea flavour? 
Vanilla and chamomile and Trader Joe’s pomegranate white tea

What would you like to get rid of? 
Our debt!!!!, my laugh lines, my fear of spiders, anxiety, digestive issues, scoliosis 

If you could go anywhere in the world for the next hour, where would you go?
To Skinsational spa in Carlsbad for a massage, a facial, a pedicure and a body wrap 

Who would you like to get stuck in a lift with? 
Anne Lamott

It took me 13 times, but I finally figured out what Britney Spears’ new song “If You Seek Amy” is really saying. I had been puzzling over it for quite some time (Who is Amy, and why are they seeking her?) and feeling annoyed because I knew there was something more to the song that I wasn’t getting. Well…I get it now, and it makes me want to clap my hands over the ears of anyone under 10. Basically it’s a poorly disguised, Mad Gab version of the F-word. I wish that Britney would have more class, but why would I expect her to change her head-shaving ways? Maybe because I heard her dad is making her read the Bible for an hour a day. But I did hear that she went with the “Amy” song trying to get the edge on bad girl Katy Perry. You can find lots of “Amy” news reports featuring irate parents online, so check it out!

When I got back from doing Meals on Wheels today, I was sad. I was happy that I got to give meals to people who need them, but today I delivered in a low-income MDHA housing project, and what I saw made me sad. It was like being plunged into a different world, a world that for many seniors, consists of a room with a chair, a TV and/or a bed. It reminded me of the Michelle House, a residential facility for people with HIV/AIDS that I volunteered at in California, because when you go inside, it’s like you leave behind the great wide world and enter into the shrinking existence of someone who has a terminal disease. 

One man had had a stroke, and his hands were like claws. He couldn’t use his fingers to write. He used to be a skycap for United Airlines, and his eyes twinkled. I got him a cup of water. Another woman’s face was deformed. She told me her name was “Old Ugly Martha.” Yet another man couldn’t walk or get out of his chair because he too had a stroke. His house smelled really bad. But all of these people were nice and sweet. Last week I had an old man in a wheelchair with really long fingernails open the door a crack, snatch the meal out of my hands, and shut the door before I could really even see his face. But everyone was friendly on my route today.

I wish I could make their lives better and their worlds bigger. Giving them a meal doesn’t seem to be enough.

My wise spiritual director recently told me to keep a record of the longings of my heart and present them before the Lord. The reason is that many of our longings will not be met on this earth, by our husbands, jobs or families. When our longings are just that, empty holes, we kill them in order to not feel the pain and emptiness. But longings aren’t meant to be numbed, and we aren’t meant to be numb people. Anne says it’s important to know exactly what you long for and to tell God about it. He might surprise you by fulfilling your desires at some point, or he might just help you keep those parts of yourself alive.

Lots of stuff is useful for numbing us—alcohol, drugs, busyness, shopping, relationships. I’ve tried them all, minus the drugs. I ask myself from time to time whether I am numbing myself by taking antidepressants. I hate these expensive pills but at the same time I love them. I’m ridiculously grateful that they keep me from falling into deep, dark depressions. But they also keep me from really feeling deep sadness. I mean, I still feel sad, and I cry sometimes, but I don’t feel what I call the sadness of the world, the wretchedness and injustice and loneliness and sorrow that is everywhere. I cannot, of course, begin to really feel that, but I do have the curse of being extremely,unhealthily empathetic. Sometimes I cry for people in nursing homes, or for abused children, or for abandoned spouses. I don’t usually do good things with this empathy though (though I do volunteer at nursing homes or deliver meals on wheels). I just fall into despair. It’s rough. And so antidepressants keep my sadness at bay. 

But while that’s valuable, it’s no secret: I don’t want to feel sadness. Even though I once foolishly prayed, “Lord, let me feel everything.” The idea behind that was that I would experience everything in life more deeply and richly. But deep, rich sadness? I don’t want it. I have felt it most of my life—I have done sad. So whether or not I need to stop numbing myself is a matter I will have to think about. 

I’m sure of one thing though—we must not kill our longings. I mean, the ones that we hate because  we can’t force other people to fulfill them and they leave us feeling pathetically weak. For example, I long for affirmation. You could never affirm me enough because I will always need more. I long to feel beautiful. I long to know my dad’s side of the family who has never been involved in my life and who did not come to my wedding or send me a card. I hate these longings because they are like parts of me missing. Holes, big empty holes.  

But, people, please don’t kill them. They are longings for things that are good, some divine. I’m not talking about a God-shaped hole inside  us because even when we know God, we still long for many things. But if I take my longings to God, after I face what they are, he can lead the thirsty one to the waters. He will make sure we do not labor for what is not bread. He will keep those parts of us alive and burning. I’m pretty sure longing is part of being fully alive.