filling myself in the morning.

in



There are days I drop words of comfort on myself like falling leaves and remember that it is enough to be taken care of by myself. 


Brian Andreas

i was reading the words of brian andreas when i wrote this. i think part of the secret of success in life is to find those--those in your life and immediate circle of friends, as well as poets and musicians and artists--find those people that speak to the very deepest parts of yourself and cultivate those friendships, those affairs. cultivate a taste that no one can question--that is yours--fill yourself up with that love.

i'm realizing i'm a better person when i begin the day with oatmeal, some really good music (lately, the tallest man on earth) and the words of someone so much smarter than myself (like brian andreas).

remember when a few weeks back i posted about happiness and asked that you all might help me make a list of tangible things to pull us from that place of funk? well yesterday, this one was added:


i am great. i need nothing but myself to make me happy. 


words of comfort, dropping like leaves, indeed. 


it's national coffee day!

in


who knew?! 

cheers to everyone from this here latte lover!

and just this week both the huffington post and the guardian wrote about a new study in which researchers suggest the caffeine in coffee might actually alter the brain chemistry in such a way as to ward off depression.

as someone who's been wildly depressed, is hopelessly devoted to coffee, and really has written quite a bit about how coffee is one of the things that keeps me happy...i think the articles (and perhaps the study too) miss the point...didn't expect that did you? 

we'll talk about it tomorrow. for now i'm off to enjoy a mid-afternoon pick-me-up. 


the head and the heart: encore.

in



lord knows i love the head and the heart. having seen them last february i was particularly struck by some of the lyrics this go round. how simple the syntax and profound the thought.

this go round jonathan russel came out and sang a solo song as part of the encore.

and i found the song itself--with its potent words--one of the most captivating moments in the night.

(so enjoy this video i found on youtube). and a very happy thursday to you all.
is it muggy where you are? new york has been mugged in (let's call it that, shall we?) for like two weeks now and i'm desperate for fall to return.

eight words.

in ,

i was walking across the park two mornings ago. the air warm, sticky--battling off fall's advance.

i shuffled along the cobblestones lining central park south lost in thought--lost in a mess of thoughts, a tangle of half-formed, ill-informed notions, no one clear or strong. and i was swimming. taking laps in the discomfort of it all when one surfaced, thrummed up and through. came out before i even knew what was what was happening.

clear as day and eight words.

it was a prayer.

God, grant me the courage to be happy. 


and from my body there went a little bit of air. oh. so that's my great wish. the courage to be happy. 


i didn't pray for happiness, didn't ask for the thing itself. my plea was for the courage.

the courage to pursue happiness.

sadness is known territory. it is a settling back on one's heel. it is a falling inward that comes naturally and takes little to no work. that's not entirely true, it takes a great deal of work, but the work is easy and deceptively alluring.

happiness, well, happiness demands that i be bold. demands that i say yes (most especially when i don't want to). it demands that i value myself enough to feel worthy of happiness.

ay, there's the rub. there's the tricky, unsettling part: it demands that i value myself enough to feel worthy of happiness. why is that so hard, to say, i am worth fighting for? this good thing, it's okay that i want it. and it's okay that i might get it. 


the prayer, that monday morning prayer, was an answer, an affirmation in and of itself. it was illumination.

the courage to be happy. fight for happiness.

but in riding the train home last night, clinging to my little prayer, there came a bit more.

relax into it.

fight for happiness. be bold. say yes. and then relax into it. ride the wave. recognize that this thing you think is terrifying might actually be thrilling. and you'll look back in ten years and wonder where that feeling went--that one that you're fighting so hard against right now--and you'll find yourself praying for a way to get it back. imagine that. so enjoy it. live in it. revel in the unknown and uncertain and the delicious discomfort of it.

and know that you're worth it.







(post script: know that in reading this over i started to cry. and i'm not entirely sure why. perhaps because as true as i know this all to be, there are moments where it is so very hard. to fight and not know and not understand why what's happening is happening. life is hard, you know?).