How do we allow ourselves to fully embrace joy and gratitude after a period of challenge? Some background: In the space of exactly two months earlier this year, I had precancerous cells removed from my cervix, got engaged, got covid, broke my leg, found out I am pregnant, and had surgery to repair the broken leg. I am healthy and recovering, walking again about 7 weeks after surgery. And after a detailed ultrasound yesterday at 14 weeks, I’ve learned our (much-desired) baby is healthy despite these early-pregnancy health challenges. It’s hard for me to fully feel my joy and gratitude for my upcoming marriage and baby, and my own recovery, because I am so afraid something will “go wrong” again in the future — during the pregnancy, or with my injured leg, anything. I want to accept that everything is impermanent, that I cannot control all circumstances, and that I have the strength to meet any challenge — all things I learned during this time. And I want to feel happy that everything right now is OK! But, like everyone’s, I suppose, my thoughts are more comfortable turning toward future catastrophes than sitting with the goodness of the moment. I have been considering this in meditation, but I am hoping for your insight, from your experience, on strategies for allowing ourselves to really sink into gratitude and open up to joy.
Dear Embracing Joy
Congratulations on all the current goodness. As someone who has recently experienced both a broken bone and cancer, I’m really happy to hear you are well (and the baby too!). Thank you for sharing some of your story and for this question.
In my experience, things do “go wrong” again — once I relax around that fact, everything is right.
Of course, by “go wrong” I’m really hoping that does not mean more broken bones or, goddess forbid, more cancer. But, given life (and until I'm dead), I will definitely experience hardship of some sort or another in the future. I can relate to your fear around that future. I think it’s a very human or at least a modern tendency. I feel the pressure to have a great (if not perfect) life. When things “go wrong” it can feel that I am wrong. And, like you state, I also know how very capable I am. I remember as my mom was dying saying to myself: If I can get through this, I can deal with ANYTHING. These experiences have made me stronger.
Along with knowing the depth of my strength, I find that the continual, tender acknowledgement that life holds both pleasure and pain, joys and sorrows, births and deaths... eases my worries. I don’t do it these days, but for years I regularly recited the Five Recollections which Buddhists in many traditions chant daily to remind themselves that pain and impermanence are completely natural parts of life. They go like this:
- I am of the nature to grow old; there is no way to escape growing old.
- I am of the nature to have ill health; there is no way to escape having ill health.
- I am of the nature to die; there is no way to escape death.
- All that is dear to me and everyone I love are of the nature to change. There is no way to escape being separated from them.
- My deeds are my closest companions. I am the beneficiary of my deeds. My deeds are the ground on which I stand.
For many years, I have also had a daily gratitude practice. Currently, I have two friends (shout out to Lynn and Shelley!) with whom I text lists of gratitudes. Sometimes I send them as pictures. Recently I’ve even sent memes. This is an intimate practice of presence that invites me to do exactly as you describe: sink into gratitude and open up to joy. Something about naming it “aloud” to others gives it more power, some enchantment – almost like daily gratitude spells. And here’s some extra magic: I often include “the wrongs” as things I’m grateful for.
May all our wrongs feel right.
In your experience... how do you respond with integrity and compassion to someone who wants to be your friend and you aren't interested? I am not a person who can ghost someone, even after one hangout. To say that I don't have time when that isn't actually true, doesn't feel right. The possibility that I might have to "hurt someones feelings" sometimes makes me not take the chance on meeting up with new people, and somehow this feels harder to do with a potential friend than a date. Help!
Dear Casper the Friendly Non-Ghoster
For almost ten months, I’ve been drawing inwards and disconnecting, so I really felt your question. Thanks for asking.
In my experience, drawing boundaries with care can be challenging and also incredibly clarifying.
I saw a meme/tweet the other day where someone stated that their gauge for whether to do anything these days was asking themselves “Is this worth getting COVID?” Pandemic or not, I want to move forward always asking myself: Is this worth expending my life force? Understandably, this has been a very potent question for me. Nothing like cancer ravaging many systems of your body to help you prioritize your social calendar! [And, I have to admit that my situation gives me the best “excuse” – in so far as no one is going to be mad at the lady with stage 4 cancer for not hanging out!]
In order to honor my boundaries, I’ve been saying various things – all true for me: “I’m not up for hanging out.” “I’m seeing a limited number of people.” “I’m limiting Zoom catch ups.” “I’m not up for a phone call.” It was great connecting and I’m needing some space right now.” Or simply: “I’m not interested.” Also, I learned this from my dear, wise friend Siobhan: if someone does not ask a question, a communication does not necessarily require a response. This life hack has limited unnecessary obligation to countless emails, texts, and even phone messages.
And I’m really struck by this idea of hurting someone’s feelings… I actually think I’ve hurt people in the past by being with them without truly wanting to be there. Spending time in someone's presence not as a true present/gift, but out of a sense of duty – I wouldn’t want anyone to do that with me.
Cancer or not, I want my own deepest desires and needs (and the preservation of my life force) to be the ultimate barometer for what activities, conversations and experiences I choose moving forward. None of that is easy for me. I'm so used to orienting outward that feeling, let alone prioritizing, my own desires and needs takes practice. And with practice, I'm getting better at it.
May we honor our deepest longings and needs (and stay free of COVID!).