Tag: community

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Building Joy

little red boat in a cove

My therapist moved to Florida and the last bit of advice she gave me was to play more and seek out joy. The way I’m thinking about this advice, I should also be a touch less hardworking. One of the quality-of-life measures I instituted in 2019 was to have a slow start each day. I take my time in the morning, have coffee, eat something, take a shower, and only then look at my emails and to-do list. This is one of the ways I try to make time for myself, be more present, and rush less.

I’m anti resolution, but I am in favor of choosing what to bring into my life. So my 2020 wish is for joyfulness and playfulness. I’m still thinking about how to institute this (yes, I want a structured process for my unscheduled joy). I have a few ideas in no particular order. Spontaneity: I want to be more whimsical with my free time. Creativity: I want to write, draw, make, carve, decorate, or put something shiny on at least weekly. Newness: I want to try new things, go outside my comfort zone and enjoy being terrible at new things. Nature: I want to go outside more, ideally among trees, mountains, or near the sea. Art: I want to go see live performances, and exhibits at museums and galleries–I want to be inspired by the work of others. Movement (self explanatory). Community: continue to build my multiple communities. I will also continue doing the things that currently bring me joy: reading fiction, seeing friends, eating new foods.

What do you want to bring into your life in 2020? How can you think of it in terms of calling in joy instead of disapproving of your life of yore?

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The lack of (English) language for existential unease

I was reflecting today with a client on the general lack of language in our culture for discussing the deep discomfort of depression, and its many shades of anguish. There’s not a lot of room, culturally speaking, for recognizing and caregiving for negative self states in either ourselves or our friends. American culture, to make a broad generalization, is all about “can-do” optimism, “pull-yourself up by the bootstraps”, “where there’s life there’s hope” and any number of other pithy sayings that don’t do much for reflecting the nuances of our life experience as humans.

I shared with my client that one of my favorite French expressions is having “le cafard” — which very literally means to have “the cockroach.” It’s used to express struggling with a depressed moment, so I translate it as “having the cockroach of the soul.” [If you refer to online dictionaries, they simplify the meaning and just say it translates to “I’m feeling down” which kind of misses some of the beauty.] It’s totally socially acceptable, in France, when someone you know asks you how you’re doing casually, for you to answer honestly: I have the cockroach.

And people will welcome you sharing the cockroach state of affairs in your soul. They’ll usually answer in kind, something along the lines of “I recently had the cockroach when X happened. It took a while for me to get over it.

In France, no one thinks any less of someone dealing with the cockroach of the soul.  It’s understood as a passing state of affairs, that challenges your wellbeing, but with proper care, hot tea or coffee, and long conversations with loved ones, can be overcome in the course of time.

[I’ll concede that the cockroach state generally doesn’t correspond with crippling clinical depression or the inability to leave the bed or shower. However, I think the space for having open conversations about the struggle of life leaves more room for seeking support from your community when the downward slide starts to happen.]

I wish this somewhat pragmatic, somewhat more welcoming approach to the ups and downs of life were more commonplace in our U.S. culture, and that the requirement that we be sunny could abate somewhat. I think we would all be healthier for it.  Certainly expecting acceptance when we shared our vulnerable moments with our friends might be a game changer for some.

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Article: Creating Meaning & Healing Personal Rituals

Is there something you want to celebrate, mourn, think about communally, or notice in your life, but aren’t sure how to go about it? (Lots of meaningful life events go unacknowledged by us and our communities because they don’t fall within the valued and acknowledged cultural rites of passage.) This could be a change in relationship or career status,  the diagnosis of a health condition, the loss of a friend or family member, or coming to terms with new understanding about your life’s course. If your usual strategies don’t feel quite sufficient, develop a personal ritual (regardless of your religious or atheist upbringing). Here’s how.

The dictionary definitions of ritual all include two parts and I’m going to add a third:

  1. Acts that have meaning
  2. Carried out in prescribed order
  3. With the right people present (my addition)

Steps to create a ritual?

Acts

This is the biggest piece of the equation. It imbues common activities with intention and power. What do you like to do? Which activities have meaning for you? Let’s say you wanted to mourn someone’s death, or the loss of a relationship. You could engage in acts of remembrance: recognize the many gifts of the relationship, what wisdom was passed down, what now lives in you because of your contact with this person. You could do this remembering by journaling, sharing pictures, playing a song, reading a meaningful poem or passage from a book, telling jokes, or sharing correspondence. You could summon friends and ask them to bring an object from a lost relationship. You could tell them to only bring snacks, or French food, or ice cream, because that is the food you associate with that relationship. Are you letting go or bringing something into your life? You could burn a candle, light some incense, mark an object.

Order

It’s important to have an opening and an ending in each ritual. Do you want the experience to be more active (say, involving dancing), or quieting–encouraging reflection, and maybe solitude? Do you want to move through different forms of celebration and remembrance? What three activities (or more) would be fun to do with the people with whom you will share this ritual?

The Right People

Do you want to do this alone, with a couple friends, or with a larger group? Which people in your life have the capacity to be playful, creative, thoughtful, quiet, or funny in the ways you’ll need to carry out your ritual?  Think carefully about who would understand your need to engage in this activity. Consider what kind of support you’ll need and who is best suited to be that support through the ritual. Pick a day and time and invite those people over.

Bringing It All Together

I’m going to share two quick examples of rituals I have previously created and used.

When I was in college, I would mark the end of each semester (meaning the day I finished all my final exams) by taking the dried flowers that I had collected in my bedroom over the course of the semester and throwing them into a rushing river nearby. I would then go to the movies to know I was in celebratory mode (once I got to see Rocky and it felt particularly fitting), and then meet friends for one exhausted drink at a bar.

When I lost my French grandmother a couple of years ago, I was unable to travel back to France for her funeral. So I created a ritual of remembrance and invited friends over. I picked out music that made me think of her. I served some French food. I shared a poem read by Billy Collins that I thought she might appreciate. I showed pictures of her and her home, and my recent visits. I asked everyone present to bring an item that reminded them of their grandparents, and to be prepared to share a story about their grandparents. About 15 people came, and we told stories, and it was a very moving afternoon.  Making time for this community ritual helped create some closure–I knew I had honored my grandmother’s memory, had marked the moment and created a new memory.

Why? I wrote this article because I often have conversations with clients where something important has happened to them, but it doesn’t fall within the bounds of activities that are typically commemorated through ritual. This doesn’t mean that a meaningful ritual can’t be created, and I encourage them to do so.