So, I’m just popping in for a second – a quiet, happy second, to bring you a little thought way outside the major topics at hand.
I haven’t been blogging much the last several months because I was working so hard on some book writing. I worked very hard on it and very often and very consistently. I did it as if I were being paid to do it, as if I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt someday I would be. And I wasn’t, and I don’t. It may have meant nothing except an exercise in my own self-discipline and pursuit of happiness. Because I am happier when I write. Absolutely happier. Mondays have nothing on me if I have written enough lately to soften the edge of the less desirable things in life.
You know what I can’t stop thinking about lately? How alike we all are. And it ends up confusing me, because I think about how the same kinds of things stress us out and ruin our days and make us long for Friday. We all have fairly similar wishes about the day: I hope it’s not a typical Monday. I hope I don’t feel overwhelmed. I’d like to be inspired.
We, the humans, are wishing these things every minute. And yet we, the humans, are perpetuating the environments so devoid of them. We dream of a happy work place where everyone gets along, and then we snap at each other. We long for work-life balance, and yet we are the ones creating the work places that make it so hard to take vacation. We want our family to support us, validate our emotions, and make it better – but we don’t do it for them.
…I just don’t understand how so many of us get the Sunday night blues and yet it’s the big giant “we” whose made Monday-through-Friday what it is.
I don’t know how to solve the big problems in our world. I didn’t start this post to talk about a single one of them. But I dream of convincing more of us to do something about the day, the mood in any given room, the conversation.
What if we could figure out how to give to everyone else all the things we want most from them? It would have to make a difference, wouldn’t it? It’s worth a try.