Finding Our Own Sunshine on Cloudy Days…. The Ambiguous Art of Being Happy….
Jean Antoine Petit-Senn, a great, but lesser known writer and satirist once stated that “Happiness is where we find it, but very rarely where we seek it.”
The pursuit of happiness, it’s such an allusive endeavor during the very best of times. Presently, as a global community we are inundated with news streams and information that continues to breed feelings of uncertainty, chaos and fear in epic proportions. On a daily basis, we are reminded of a death toll, a constant threat to our communities, our friends and family. Most of us are simply trying to carve out some means of daily existence amidst the challenges of managing for family, children, work and home life. Then when you factor in the need to budget finances, food supplies and cope with the long-term isolation, happiness seems to be the very last on a long list of priorities. When is there time to be happy? Who dares to be so selfish to think of something as frivolous as one’s own happiness?
However, I truly believe at the very heart of our collective human endeavor is the need to feed our psyches- the emotional part of our brains with a sense of well-being and the need to know that ‘all will eventually be okay.’ We need the reassurance that one day soon we can take a brief pause from all of the stress, be reunited with friends and family from whom we’ve separated, and that while our lives may never return to the version of what we knew in the past, some semblance of our former lives will be restored.
So how do we continue to care for ourselves and our emotional brain amidst these troubling times? I’m not exactly sure. I do know that finding happiness is truly an ambiguous art. We constantly work to seek fulfillment and often that comes through a sense of well being- a sense of happiness. Perhaps it’s simply providing some level of gratification in whatever form it may take; peace, solitude, the comfort of others, a solid meal, or a good book. Few of us can actually recall having lived through times filled with such uncertainty, stress and flux as we are presently. It reminds me of the 126 days that my son Evan spent in the NICU (Neonatal intensive care unit) at a level four hospital after his sudden and quite traumatic birth at just 25 weeks gestation. Within just hours, our lives had shifted from happily anticipating the birth of our second child, to the mind-jolting reality of coping with a sudden and quite dramatically-life-altering birth of a baby weighing just 750 grams. Instantly, our existence was measured by Evan’s oxygen saturation levels, his bilirubin counts, his blood pressure, his tolerance for one blood transfusion after another, as well as a host of other conditions. That time spent next to his isolate was truly a roller coaster of emotions, we lived moment by moment, not knowing what the next hour would bring. There were days so dark, that I felt as though I was being smothered by wet velvet, but even amidst the darkest of days, I was able to find light, hope, and dare I say, some level of happiness. Perhaps that is due to the fact that my definition of happiness had changed in response to my new life.
The same holds true for our present situation. I continue to worry for all of our doctors (my sister), nurses (my sister-in-law), and other individuals forced to be on the ‘front-line’ of this pandemic. I am eternally grateful for the fact that my family remains healthy and that I can earn a living from home. However I continue, as both a parent and a caregiver, to struggle with not just helping my children find happiness, but with my own challenge that remaining optimistic presents as well. Finding happiness, can become an even more allusive art when factoring in the challenges that caring for elderly parents, children who are immunio-compromised, and the evolving responsibilities that both work and home obligations continuously present.
This week we learned that the greatly needed period of quarantine will continue for at least another month, a fact that is somewhat reassuring, yet also at the same time a bit daunting. Like most people, there are days when I am so busy with trying to learn new technology so that I can teach from from home that I hardly notice not leaving the house. And then there are other days where I’d give just about anything to see a friend or wander aimlessly around a Home Goods! A sense of cabin fever has begun to develop amidst my children as well, as some of the greatly sought after perks, such as staying up late or sleeping in later, have worn away as our time at home extends. Without much warning an argument will erupt in response to how loudly one of them is chewing, hogging the remote, or even smiling too often. Long ago, I realized that finding happiness is truly a very ambiguous art, there is no one sure answer or recipe for success. However, the further we journey amidst these uncharted waters, I realize that the fleeting, ever -sought and greatly desired feeling of happiness may not be what I had initially envisioned. My life once again has changed very quickly and in a short period of time, so therefore so has my definition of happiness.
I have come to the understanding that there is some level of work involved, that I too need to make a concerted effort to be happy. Yesterday, I didn’t exercise my right to find happiness and focused primarily on work. I sat at my little desk in the kitchen from 6:00am through after 7:00p.m taking only minor breaks. I was dogged in my determination to create digital versions of my lessons for an upcoming unit of study. I was worried about my students, my colleagues and also myself when considering how I would bring the vitality and vibrancy of a shared read aloud through written directions and a YouTube video. I watched as the sun as it waxed and waned behind the clouds, promising myself that I would take that greatly needed walk that I knew would benefit my children, my dog and also myself. However, there was also a part of me that thought if I could just get one more lesson completed, then I’ll…. The day came and went and before I realized the time, the day was over. I had missed the sun, the walk and the chance to be happy.
I realize that as a parent of a special needs child, I often play the ‘If… then’ game with myself when trying to master the ambiguous art of being happy. If only Evan could only walk without the use of braces, then he could be happy. If only he didn’t have to take so much medication, then he could be happy. If only he didn’t need so much therapy, then he could be happy. If only he had more friends, then he could be happy. Most importantly, if only he could be happy, then I could be happy too.
Interestingly enough, this morning at breakfast, I asked Evan what truly makes him happy. He told me that spending time with me is what makes him happy. I wanted to cry, as it was so endearing, but also felt a surge of panic within me rise up as well. What happens when I am no longer able to be ‘here?’ Before I continued to plummet down the rabbit hole of doubt, fear and anxiety, I knew that I had to leave.
Despite all of the unfinished work, unanswered emails, unmade beds and unfolded piles of laundry, I went out for a walk. The air was very crisp and I could see the fuzzy frost covering the grass in a shiny silvery mist. The weather feels very different lately, there’s a sense of renewal, a return to previous days. It as though there has been a ‘reset’ button pressed somewhere in the celestial universe. The blues in the sky now seem brighter, the clouds fluffier, the greens just a tad more apparent than just a few days ago, perhaps because there are so few distractions now, I can finally see it all the more clearly and enjoy it all the more.
Wishing everyone peace, love, continued health, and their own personal version of happiness.
~K
