Whole life. I desperately desire for my life to be whole and
full, the kind worthy of a good Christina Aguilera ballad or Billy Collins
poem. Or hell, even a decent blog. Yes, if the meaning of life is an elective,
I’ll take a tale worth being told.
The follow-up question is how to do that or what that even
is? Seems rational that I should go on some discourse on the meaningfulness of
life as according to me. I could pontificate on priorities, what-to-do’s, and
stuff like that, but the thought of it is already putting me to sleep.
I think a vocabulary lesson sounds more fun! Here’s one you’ve seen before:
Pleasure: 1. a pleased feeling;
enjoyment; delight; satisfaction 2. one’s wish, will, or choice 3. a thing that
gives delight or satisfaction 4. gratification of the senses; sensual
satisfaction 5. amusement.
I have a laundry-list of complaints, but you know what? I do
not have a laundry list of pleasures or things that please me. Maybe that’s
because there is nothing to wash-out. I think I shall take the time to write a
list of things that bring me joy here. This task is not perfunctory, however
(that was a different vocabulary lesson I found in my dictionary, so hey, I had
to use it).
Pleasures: snuggling with my cat on sad days; sitting in
front of my fireplace with a cup of organic, sumptuous tea with a snow storm
raging outside; being with and spending time with the people I love; reading a
good book; feeling the endorphins after a good workout; eating spinach;
visiting places I’ve only seen in Lonely Planet Guide travel books or
postcards; having quick-witted and clever conversations that require my full
presence and engagement; dancing to a favorite song; eating really good
chocolate; wild-berry gorgonzola guacamole; expressing a thought for which I
struggle to find words and having someone understand me; canoeing on silent
lakes away from hordes of people; making something with my hands and having it
turn out at least roughly as I saw it in my mind’s eye; reveling in the twinkle
of another’s love and acceptance; watching wild birds take flight; digging my
toes in sea-soaked beach sand as waves and tides wash against my legs; taking a
bubble bath in candle light; hiding in bed under my homemade quilts when life
just feels like too much; being on a boat where the chop and spray of water
remind me I am not on solid land; fog and mist in a place that looks as it were
in Lord of the Rings; solving a
puzzle; finally figuring out something that has long vexed me; a good
biography; studies-abroad; treasure hunting with a metal detector; eating salsa
fresca, in the summer, with Romano tomatoes from my garden; hearing and seeing
the dreams of others as they progress…
These are a few of my favorite things! The most amazing
thing happened to me as I made that list. As I looked over dreams and memories
to find things that have amused and pleased me, my body relaxed significantly.
A feeling of calm and peace washed over me, like those ocean waves I’m so fond
of. Wow, it’s like yoga without actually doing downward dog!
I like pleasure. That has not always been the case. For
years, I had a severe pleasure digestion problem. You know, most of my life,
the term “Guilty Pleasure” has been redundant. In a world where hard work,
determination, and unwavering dedication are lauded as the road to The Most
High of All Human Achievements, benignly pleasure is a minor distraction
whereas malignantly, it’s an intersection with a forked-road between all I ever
has wanted and that veering to Hell. With my eyes on some far off future prize,
guilt and pleasure became indistinguishable euphemisms for failure to achieve.
And that summation became a problem.
Here’s why. Pleasure is not some expendable life-experience
for slackers, goof-offs, and the never-do-wells…which as twisted as it sounds,
is a mindset I somehow came to adopt and judge by. If it doesn't sound like a
lot of fun, let me assure you, it wasn't. Pleasure is at the heart of the human
experience and a whole life. And if I maintain the meaning of my life as
something worth blogging about, in my book, pleasure isn’t expendable or
extinguishable. It’s the key ingredient.
How well do you digest pleasure? How quickly can you think
of a list of things that please you? How do you feel before and after doing so?
You should try it. It’s an amusement, and according to definition numero cinco
that means it’s a self-fulfilling pleasure.
You know what else is pleasant? Bernadette!
This post is part of the Emotions in Motion Blog Tour in honor of her and her work, which I am very pleased and honored to be a part of along with other women bloggers. You can see more at:
You know what else is pleasant? Bernadette!
This post is part of the Emotions in Motion Blog Tour in honor of her and her work, which I am very pleased and honored to be a part of along with other women bloggers. You can see more at:
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