Ten Good Things

If the world’s chaos shows us anything, it’s that we are only as good as our actions

The end of the semester is here. I still have some extra credit to wrap up, but all my finals are done. I tried to get a moment of Zen in the meditation garden on campus after I handed in my final exam, but as soon as I sat down, I remembered the extra credit and the million and one other things I have to do. I immediately beat myself up for my drive to do more and more and more, always thinking I should slow down and smell the proverbial flowers—the anxiety to want more with the pull to do less. Oh, well.

Shortly thereafter, I got an email saying our university community lost two important women over the weekend, both relatively young. It was a shock but also a reminder that death is just around the corner, gunning for all of us. I am doing and doing and doing because I have wasted enough time doing nothing or, worse, pleasing others.

Alongside my ever present grateful mantra chirps the tik-tok of the life clock urging me forward, begging me to do more. These are mini-battles of will, talent, agency, and hope. These battles are battles I am fighting for me and no one else. There is no more time for pastimes. If all this work I’m doing in the now gets me to a tangible nowhere, it will not matter because the inner roar is strong and alive. I’ve done enough in the real world to defend my life. Now, it is time to be true to my heart. To give in to the things that make me happy. Writing, reading, learning. Tying bows to my Christmas tree. Sewing quilts, throwing pots. Taking cookies to old people. Taking photographs and drawing. Speaking up and standing strong. I’ve tried meditation, and it’s not for me. My spirituality is in the doing.

Am I full of shit? Probably. But if the chaos of the world shows us anything, it’s that we are only as good as our actions. Am I always the best mother? Wife? Sister? Friend? No, no, no, and no. But that’s all part of the go, go, go. Make the mistake, apologize, recalibrate, and move on. On my wall are some notes I made to myself when I was doing cognitive behavioral therapy a few years back.

“It is OK if I fail sometimes, but I will learn from my mistakes.”

“My half-ass is better than most people’s full-ass.”

“I would like people to like me, but it’s more important to love myself.”

I am not huge on therapy, self-affirmations, or what people now refer to as manifesting. But I am big on thinking about all the fucking possibilities. I’m not huge on notes pasted to the wall, either, but if some self-cheerleading works, so be it. We need the rah, rah, rah in the face of so much bad. There is too much ugliness in the world. It used to be hidden, underground, but more and more it is out in the sunlight, feeding off the fresh air. It is pervasive, so it’s OK to want to look away sometimes. But if you are too tender-hearted to face it head-on—if you need to set boundaries to protect yourself—you better be spending your life filling the world with good stuff instead of putting your head in the sand. Because there is good stuff, lots of it. Unfortunately, it’s not always accessible to everybody, so if you are a purveyor of good stuff—art, advice, love, charity, music, wisdom, fresh baked bread, large philanthropic donations, cures for disease, a shoulder to cry on—you better be spreading it around.

Another bit of advice I gleaned from therapy long ago: for every shitty thing you say, you better say ten good things to combat it.

Me, I’m going for 50.