Small Pleasures
Some nights, the ache in your chest
for all that’s wrong in your life,
for all the cruelty of this world,
will wake you with its crackling
bonfire of fears. But other nights,
you will fall asleep to the scent
of peonies left breathing in a vase
on the dresser, that bouquet of burst-
open hearts the last thing you see
before closing your eyes. You live,
as we all do, between the extremes,
learning to lean in the direction
of whatever small pleasures you can
gather from your own backyard.
We live between such extremes these days—cruelty, fear, and uncertainty on one side, and pleasure, joy, and wonder on the other. How these emotions dance and intertwine with each other inside us. It is a dizzying and stressful time to be alive. Yet I think often of how the singer/songwriter and poet Carrie Newcomer responded when I recently asked what’s keeping her sane and centered at the moment. “Leaning into beauty,” she said, giving me and everyone listening in on our conversation the permission to do the same. Most days, as I sit down to write, though I never know what’s going to come, though I never force it, I am aware that much of my work focuses on small moments and how to hold them. In the past I might have felt sheepish about how often I repeat myself, but now I believe that giving our attention to such instances of rest and renewal, no matter how often we have to remind ourselves, can keep us alive. Surrendering to them can feel like an act of radical self-compassion, given all that’s happening right now. We want to stay informed, yet absorbing too much horror on the news can lead to numbness, or what some have called, “compassion fatigue.” We need to give in to the things that bring us relief as well, if we are fortunate enough to be able to find them. Even now, I’m aware of my own good luck, safely tucked away and writing in a sun-struck room in Vermont, still filled with the scent of fast-fading peonies. Isn’t that why we’re here? To feel both the aches and pleasures of life as deeply as we can? We tend to think that peace lives just over there—in another country, in a cabin in the woods, in a retreat center where we might escape the noise of the world—but true relief can sometimes be found right here where we are, leaning into whatever beauty happens to be available.
Invitation for Writing & Reflection: What are the extremes you feel yourself living between right now—those aches and pleasures both? What are some of the small beauties you’re leaning into right now?
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Thank you for this. I pray every day to find that sweet spot between not looking away and protecting my peace. Not easy.
There is a chasm
Between holding on
And letting go
In which a moment
May feel like eternity
And eternity may feel
Like a moment.
In this chasm of trust
All that is known is released
Into all that is unknown.
Letting go is sometimes frightening
But always courageous.
This chasm of possibility
Is where transformation is born.