“Everybody has their sadness.
And most people are scared of it.”
–Mary Gaitskill
Dear Ones–
I’m not “supposed” to be back to work until tomorrow, but I missed you and wanted to check in and let you know how glad I’ll be to see you on Sunday!
The quotation above caught my eye a week or so ago. It made me think about how summer was, for a long time, a season I associated with sadness (there were layers of summertime grief in my youth) and, perhaps, feared a bit–every spring, around May, I would feel agitation or dread creeping up around the edges of my life, no matter what plans or anticipations I had for the upcoming summer. For years, I didn’t even recognize this pattern, and it only stopped once I got to the point of hearing myself say (again) “I don’t like summer,” and deciding that it was time to have a new story about summer. (It took a few more years to outgrow that old story. Some things can’t be rushed.)
Being not-scared of sadness is a powerful tool for being happier, I have discovered, and I have been thinking about this in connection with the stories we tell ourselves about both our individual lives and our collective histories. I’m wondering if (well, to be honest, I’m pretty sure that) being able to experience joy and contentment requires a willingness to experience sadness, or at least not to be shut down by the fear of feeling it.
Yours in sadness and joy,
Rev. Denise
RevDenise@gnuuc.org