About Good News

Post 301:

            How often in life are things really good? I’m not even referring to extended periods of time. Maybe you’re one of those few fortunate, but for all us regulars, we get moments—perhaps a day here, a week there.

            Now let’s not go cheap. Let’s talk really good. This does not include the feeling you have when the store is stocked up on your favorite ice cream. I’m talking those slivers of time that include triumph and total self-actualization; when being you is the greatest thing the cosmos has to offer.

            I’ve had a few. Not enough. I want more. Perhaps it’s better to stop chasing that high, and maybe that’s all it is—a high. A chemical rush of serotonin or endorphins or whatever the hell—but I’d like to think otherwise. 

            I can hear lies all day about how life is great and all that, but the data doesn’t support it. It’s mostly just going about things, trying to find contentment in what you have, thankfulness for things that haven’t yet come to lay their hurts upon you.

            Contentment is great. A noble pursuit. Perhaps the wisest of all pursuits.

            But what about the really good?

            I had one the other day. It came on the heels of something really hard. Something potentially brutal was hanging over my head, and then poof, the guillotine vanished. That feeling washed itself through my system. Relief, ecstasy, real joy, but after all was said and done, it got me to thinking.

            Just like me to ruin a good time.

            Nah, nothing was ruined, in truth. But it did get my philosophical wheels turning. How many of those moments of glory come in a similar fashion, when all seems to be spiraling out of control?

            I’d say a lot.

            It doesn’t even have to be out of control. Just hard. Think of a game where you’re putting everything you got into it and nothing’s happening right. A real uphill trudge through the snow. And then you get that opening. You put it in the net. You get that feeling. Against the tide, against the odds, there it is; true happiness.

            But if it’s fleeting, is it real? Better question: If it’s contingent, that is, if that really good feeling is reliant on something outside of oneself, is it real, or just a reaction?

            I really don’t know. And I’m sure everyone’s different on this score. But the question is still with me.

            How much crap does it take to really be happy when the crap is gone?

            I’m currently trudging through a knotty project. There better be some ecstasy on the other end. Later you good people. Hope you’re feeling really good.

            Cheers. See you after.