Count it all joy
When I am told to be positive, I instantly think, "Do I have a choice?" But I know that I actually do: It's to choose to stay miserable.
I used to feel the need to shift quickly, after so many wasted years of wallowing in misery. But now I've developed the capacity to allow myself to shift slowly, to feel the heartbreak--any heartbreak--but not let it consume me, then find ways to feel good again.
This anger is a new feeling for me, and I don't like it. So I am letting it sink into insignificance, like I have everything else that I have held dear that turned into poison in my hands, so I can make room for compassion and forgiveness.
It is work, but I am teaching myself to love the work, because it is work towards a better, braver, and more loving me.
Speaking of work, I was scrolling through social media and I found this line from The Bible: Count it all joy. It is part of a longer line that says we should be thankful when we face trials because it develops our faith and patience.
It reminded me of something Stephen Colbert said in a GQ interview about his own personal tragedy, which he expounds on in an interview with Anderson Cooper: "What punishments of God are not gifts?"
It is a gift to exist, he says, and being grateful for existing means being grateful for all of it, even the things you most wish had not happened.
Earlier today, I had an excruciating stomachache. I spent a good thirty minutes running to and from the toilet, and, for a couple of minutes, I felt like it was going to be the death of me.
I'd been miserable the past few days, except for this gift of a weekend, and at the height of my drama, I'd have gladly welcomed obliteration, but now that I was actually faced with it, I was thinking: Please, God, not yet.
When the pain from the stomachache was finally gone, the other pain I'd been navigating was put in perspective.
I am grateful.
Count it all joy, Dat. We count it all joy.