Abraham Lincoln said something like, "Most folks are as happy as they make their minds up to be." He would have known, what with all that was on his plate during his time. He had more than his share of heartaches to face. I didn't know him, but from what I have read I understand that he got up every morning anyway even though he was surrounded by adversaries and was leading a nation through a terrible and bloody war (what other kinds of wars are there? Hm. But the American Civil War was especially horrific, perhaps. . . And Lincoln was frustrated by his war leaders' unwillingness to lead, yet deeply sorrowful and acutely aware of the great loss of life). His darling 11-year-old son died--how does a president engaged in a war to save his nation grieve the loss of his child? His wife spent too much money and was crazy with grief herself. He had enemies--lots of them--and incomprehensibly huge responsibilities.
And then there's the lovely woman I spoke with at church yesterday. She, her husband, and their kids had taken charge of serving coffee, juice, and cookies to the congregation after the service. I learned that her father had recently fallen and broken his neck and was having a difficult time in rehabilitation. But there she was with her family, helping others enjoy fellowship in that sun-soaked room.
Driving my son to preschool this morning, I noticed a squirrel writhing in the street. It had been a long time since I'd seen such graphic suffering in real time. After I was careful to pass over it, straddling the wheels so as not to further squish it, I didn't know if it was the right thing to do. Should I have smashed it with my tires and put it out of its misery? Should I have stopped and phoned Animal Control?
Last night I slept with a window open and heard crickets. It's a gorgeous October day. As I stood in the yard this morning, the air felt like spring. There were birds chirping away. The colors are amazing--fall is shining and glittering with color. I have two children I am worried about (for various reasons--too much to speak about here and now). I have a messy house, and I don't know what's for dinner tonight. I have work to do--LOTS of work--for school, and field work/internship to arrange for next semester even as I struggle this semester with uncertainty about the whole bachelor's degree thing--disbelief; self-sabotage, perhaps; sloth.
But I am grateful and focusing on the good stuff; here's a short list:
1. Kids are not sick
2. I was born in the United States
3. My husband is employed and we have good health insurance through his hard work
4. My daughter goes to a great school and has wonderful teachers and good friends
5. My son goes to a great daycare and has fabulously compassionate and smart teachers who are quite fond of him
6. I actually have the opportunity and the resources to fulfill a 21-year-old dream
7. I am sober and mindful on this beautiful day--a day of brilliant October sky and warmth.
I remember and feel now the glow I felt yesterday in church while in prayer with the sunshine streaming through the windows. I hold in my heart all the wonderful people I've walked with on this path. I am as happy as I make my mind up to be.
