A life to delight in
For the first two weeks it surprised me that the key to my new apartment still unlocked the door. I had convinced myself that it was too good to actually be mine. It felt like a scam that every apartment rental website warns you about. I was waiting for eviction or for the real renter to walk in right as I had finished putting the last picture on the wall.
I met someone shortly after moving into the little yellow apartment. I felt drawn to his kindness and the way his dark brown eyes lit up as we exchanged funny stories over coffee. He was something so different and so new; again it felt too good to be true.
We started dating and I began to feel an increasing worry about when he would leave. I searched for signs that his goodness and affection were an act. I wanted to see a reason to leave before he left me. I needed to feel prepared for the inevitable end. Each time I assumed that heartbreak coming he would provide gentle assurance that nothing had changed between us.
A new job came next. It was my first full-time job with benefits. It was a job that could be a small stepping stone into becoming a journalist. Instead of enjoying it, I go through my days worrying that history will repeat itself. I worry about going through financial instability for the next two years again. I’ve been at the job for over six months and I still worry that every mistake I make will be the one that gets me fired.
I have asked for happiness to make its home in me for years, and now that it has found its way to me, I'm shooing it away. “Please don’t stay too long,” I think. “I’m going to get too attached to you. I’m going to feel lost when you’re gone.”
It is exhausting to scrutinize the good things in your life. It is not the way the gifts are meant to be experienced. My struggle to relax and trust in these things reminds me of a few lines from my favorite poem by Jack Gilbert,
“We must risk delight. We can do without pleasure,
but not delight. Not enjoyment. We must have
the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless
furnace of this world.”
The first line struck me deep enough to get it tattooed above my elbow. I do a disservice to these wonderful things in my life when I look at them and only see them as fragile and fleeting. It is an act of wastefulness to hide from the good things in life or to try to lock them away to prevent them from leaving. It is foolish to overlook or dismiss them even in difficult times.
I’m attempting to make the shift from pretending these delights do not exist to opening up and enjoying them in the sun. It will be more painful to look back and see that I did not celebrate their existence in my life when I had them. It’s painful to lose something that once brought you happiness. But, it’s more painful to have regrets about not enjoying the things you loved when you had them.
I am settling into a peaceful and joyful season in life. I’ve watched my life transform over the past six months from chaotic and anxiety-fueled into something more manageable and enjoyable. A year ago I made a commitment to do everything I could to change my life, and now I am making the commitment to enjoy it. I have settled in and decorated my studio apartment. I celebrated seven, blissful, laughter-filled months with the sweet man. I am moving into a new position at the same company in about a month. I am choosing to celebrate the hard work of growing and becoming, and the beautiful things life has given me. I hope to practice “stubborn gladness” for the rest of my life.
