“When we have a toothache, we know that not having a toothache is happiness. But later, when we don’t have a toothache, we don’t treasure our non-toothache. Practicing mindfulness helps us learn to appreciate the well-being that is already there.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures. ~Thornton Wilder

The struggle ends when the gratitude begins. ~Neale Donald Walsch

Dear Friends,

This past week, a tropical storm blew through the North East and left many of us without electricity. We are used to what we are used to and any type of change can feel threatening and unsettling. My road was without power for four days and when it was restored, there was a surge that blew out our modem and then, no internet or phone service. Neighbors expressed discomfort and aversion. What I observed in my own thoughts during this time, was the habit to move towards comfort and how quickly irritation, frustration, and uncertainty crept in—even with this relatively small shift. My house had a generator for heat, water, and fridge and I was still out of sorts. I thought of the people in Puerto Rico who are living without power and will be for months. I know many of them have nothing left. The hurricane brought a river of toxic mud that turned everything it touched into garbage. What was fascinating, was that when I became curious about my mind state, I could observe this phenomenon of clinging to what I think of as “normal,” when in fact, it’s not the norm. It’s the condition of well-being that we take for granted.

Thich Nhat Hanh talks about this phenomenon in the joy of a non-tooth ache. We all know the pain of a toothache or can imagine how debilitating that is. If we have a toothache, then it’s gone, we are full of gratitude and joy, but we don’t wake up a week later still overjoyed. The happiness from a non-toothache fades quickly. The same happiness at having lights that work, water from a tap and being able to look at our email from home fades after a day or two and all these wonderful conditions we live with become the way life is supposed to be. We are entitled to electricity and all that comes with it.

We do this when we are sick. There’s a first glorious moment when we breathe through an un-stuffy nose, but we don’t think—I am so glad I am not clogged up every night after we are well. We look for the newest problem and let the small non-problems slide by. We look for the big dramatic things to feel thankful for and miss out on what is happening all the time in us and around us.

I try to practice staying small. This is a way to recognize the often-overlooked reasons for happiness. I start with the body and what’s happening in this small space I inhabit. Does anything feel good today? Any areas that are healthy and well?  I’m not on an intravenous drip or a ventilator, so I am off to a good start. I consider if I have enough food. Seldom is there any lack and that’s easily remedied by a trip to Stop n Shop. Not so, for many in the world. What else is going well? What am I doing and why? If I am writing, is it a chore or a pleasure? When I reflect, it is a privilege to share my thoughts with others, so that’s a good thing too. This doesn’t mean that I paint a rainbow on a terrible time, but being aware of what is working, and all the times there are no traffic jams, that really helps ease the fear of discomfort when it arises. Even in the power outage, I could use the Internet at the library, or go eat at a restaurant. That is also a privilege.

This week, perhaps, take some time to stay small and reflect on the areas of goodness and wellbeing right here, right now. The cup of tea in your hand, or the presence of a beloved pet, the ability to read and comprehend, all the small things we forget are gifts when we’re busy thinking about the obstacles to getting what we want. There’s goodness right here waiting for us to discover it.

May we all trust our light,

Celia