This is from Gil’s book, “How to Be Happy, dammit” (which I still have, although I’m not STEALING it, I’m going to give it back, because otherwise that would be STEALING HAPPINESS):
Life Lesson #21 says you have to live in the NOW. As opposed to dwelling on the past or worrying/hoping for the future. Very good advice; as I’ve said before, this little book is chock full of pearls of wisdom. Everybody needs a copy, just like EVERYBODY needs a massage, at least a short one, on a daily basis. Wouldn’t the world be a better place if that happened?
I’m SO trying to live in the now, right now. OK, here’s a perfect example of how thinking about the future doesn’t necessarily pan out: you may recall that I wrote just this afternoon about my anticipated bliss at eating the Cadbury Crème Egg in my car.
I was quite ecstatic to finally get out to my car and unwrap the foil…and it was an inferior Cadbury Crème Egg. They CAN be mouthwateringly delicious (although I must admit I’d forgotten how very VERY sweet they really are), but only if they’re fresh.
I suspect the Cadbury Crème Egg I snarfed down was perhaps from last Easter. Just not up to snuff.
So, according to Life Lesson #21, I shouldn’t have been hoping for that Egg after all, and that way, I wouldn’t be disappointed. This sounds like a Buddhist thing, doesn’t it? Although I doubt that Buddhist monks eat a lot of Cadbury Crème Eggs. Perhaps they should start. If I knew any Buddhist monks, I’d give them one.
I lived all the rest of my day, and finally got home, exhausted, ready for bed…and there was a container of organic chocolates on the counter (I find it best to never question where all the goodies come from – God, perhaps?). I tried one, and THAT was Nirvana. Found without seeking it. Just happened upon it, no anticipation, no hope, just…there it was.
The only downside being that I felt the need to try three or four of them, which might impede my sleep which I CRAVE. Too much sugar and caffeine at this time of night.
I’ve been thinking about auditioning for a summer musical, and tonight I practiced the song I’d sing.
I’d forgotten that aspect of singing a song – the singing part.
Randy kept saying, “you could SELL that song, you just have to practice. You’re be GREAT in the role.” Randy’s usually not an optimistic fellow, but I felt that he was suddenly making up for his usual pessimism. I’ve started having second thoughts about auditioning, because it could be very stressful/humiliating/agonizing.
I’m sure there’s a life lesson in the happiness book that addresses this. It could be #18, “Relax and Enjoy the Ride.” Or maybe it’s Life Lesson #10, “Fear stops you from getting what you really want/need.”
It’s a marvelous little book, I tell you, and I think everybody needs to read it. But anyway, I don’t think either of these lessons pertains to me. It’s not fear that I have exactly, it’s more the inevitability of knowing what the sound will sound like that comes out of my mouth. I’m just being realistic.
We’ll just see what happens. Meanwhile, I’m attempting to relax and enjoy the ride, I promise.
My good friend Paul e-mailed me today. I haven’t heard from him in a while; he came to visit a couple of summers ago and we went out on the pontoon boat and had a very nice time. He taught a stand-up comedy class I took in LA, and now he’s doing stand-up on the east coast and on cruise ships, and has a place in NYC. Quite exciting. He might come out to visit. And, hmm, wasn’t I just writing about wanting to go to New York? And now, unexpectedly, I’d have a place to stay…
Life Lesson #25 – “nothing in this universe is random.” Hmm.
The day is ending on a much happier note than it started with. Life Lesson #4, “Happiness is not about what happens to you, but how you choose to respond to what happens. You must always leave room for hope that all has happened for a good cause.”
Ok then. I certainly don’t believe ALL has happened for a good cause, because sometimes inexplicably horribly bad things happen, but by and large (who thought that up, anyway, “by and large?”), I do think that plenty of things happen for a good cause, one that one doesn’t necessarily see right away.
All right then, enough already,
Wiser and wiser grace
(soon to be a sage, or perhaps a Buddhist monk)