In a way, he's right. It's been a hard few months. (And let's not even talk about all the death last year.) I'm on my fourth month of the worst/longest bout of insomnia I've ever had (and the second prescription that isn't doing much to help).
But in a way he's wrong, because most of the ache this year has landed directly on people I love, and I'm just a bystander. Sure, that's still hard, but in a completely different way. And I don't take for granted my good fortune at being on the sidelines rather than in the direct path of the train.
I have been feeling the weight of these and other things lately, but I've also had moments of incredible joy and beauty that need to be celebrated. I just completed my first ever gishwhes, which is an event that feels like it could have been created just for me. Here's the conclusion to an email about it we received from the organizer just before the hunt ended:
It’s easy to fall prey to the monotony of life. It’s easy to get sucked into the routine of going to school, raising a family or grinding at a job. It’s easy to get lost for hours in the impersonal online world.
...Even if you only managed to complete a fraction of the items on the list, you still did things you never thought yourself capable or comfortable doing. You went out in the world and woke up the public by doing strange and wondrous things. You dove headfirst into art (with either a beautiful ripple or an incredible wonderfully ugly spastic tsunamic splash) and, based on the submissions I’ve seen, you touched thousands of hearts.
...And don’t forget, just because Gishwhes ends, doesn’t mean you have to stop bringing weirdness, fun and kindness into your life and the lives of those around you. No matter who you are or what you do, the world deserves to see your gish.
My team submitted a total of 79 items on a list of 215. I don't think there's any chance we'll win any prizes, but that doesn't matter. We had fun. So much fun. And we helped make the world a better place, if in only small ways. I made a couple of new friends. I got to do lots of silly things. And I got a bunch of hugs (including one while coated in butter and another that lasted 20 minutes).
Beth once said she loved how I live my life. It's not like I don't make colossal mistakes sometimes. I hurt and annoy people. I wear them out. I leave things undone. But mostly, I strive for happiness.
Early in the hunt, I chose to do a task assigned by John Green that involved writing your own personal manifesto. I liked the idea of the task, but had no idea what I'd do. It was really eye-opening for me when I sat down and started writing. I thought of Beth. I thought of how Esther Earl said, "Just be happy, and if you can't be happy, do things that make you happy. Or do nothing with the people that make you happy." And this is what poured out of me:
Happiness. That's the most important thing. It's hard, because I want to be a good person who does good things. It feels selfish to focus on my own happiness, but really it's just a matter of practicality. An unhappy person doesn't have as much patience or tolerance. An unhappy person doesn't have the same capacity for love and kindness. An unhappy person can't possibly be as engaged as someone who feels fulfilled and at peace...and happy. So, I will fight for my happiness first. (Even if I have to fight my own feelings of wrongness about it.) And then I can go out and try to make the world a better, gentler place.
* I have witnessed how hard it is to quit smoking. I know science says that most people who smoke want to quit. If you smoke, please try to quit. And keep trying until you do. If not for yourself, then for the people who love you, who should not have to go through what Emer and I did.
