"My New Year Revolution: 'This happiness thing is over-rated.'"

To my male readers: You are likely anatomically familiar with the shrinking feeling and effect on our bodies when we jump into cold water, right?

To my female readers: You are likely familiar with the (generally) caveman-like behavior of the male species, so you can probably imagine the aforementioned effect, right?

(Hold that thought.)

This is exactly how I felt during a recent plunge with my counselor-therapist-coach-mental antagonist, Jim. On the backside of a separation and subsequent divorce from my 25-year marriage, I had returned to Nashville. I had lived in Minneapolis as a part of my solitude. In no way meaning to minimize the wounds associated with this profound loss, I was blessed by the men, women, books, writing and reflection time I had to process and grow through this tumultuous season of change. And, for first time I can remember since my post-teen years I was feeling “happy” as the cumulative effect from:

· Living alone for four years and finding I actually liked myself;

· Getting out of seemingly insurmountable debt;

· Purchasing a car by myself;

· Purchasing a condominium by myself;

· Traveling globally and experiencing “God Sightings” in the mission field;

· Rebuilding damaged relationships;

· Building new relationships;

· Writing three books.

· Starting this column

Jim began our meeting with the characteristic question I hoped he would ask.

“So, how are you doing, Brian?”

I felt my chest puff up and my feathers spread open with majestic flourish. I took a deep breath, allowing my peacock smile to amplify.

“Jim, I am so thrilled to tell you that I have never been happier in my entire life.”

There it was. I had finally crossed a decade-old therapeutic battlefield and was still standing. Scarred, muddied and shrapnel ridden, but nonetheless blissful. I had made it to the other side of what had felt like an endless battle and was reporting “mission accomplished” to my commanding officer, feeling triumphant. Jim delivered his response without pause.

“This happiness thing is over-rated.”

Splash. Brr. Shrivel.

Jim allowed just enough time for the icy impact of his statement to eradicate any semblance of my ecstasy before continuing.

“You see, essentially there is not a lot of difference between the extremes of happiness and sadness. Both are temporary. They come. They go.” A chilling pause allowed adequate penetration of this mental enema. “Might I suggest another word that might be more appropriate for what you are feeling? How about ‘content?’ Contentment acknowledges the presence and fleeting qualities of happiness, sadness, joy and despair; however, it gives you healthy context in which to embrace life’s ambiguities.”

Curious, I consulted the dictionary:

con•tent [kuhn-tent]

Adjective:

1. satisfied with what one is or has; not wanting more or anything else.

I am content with that.

On October 20, 2010, I exchanged covenants of love and life with Lynn while standing in the Sea of Galilee in Israel. In the five years we have come to know each other, we have shared countless conversations about life, love, brokenness, grace and commitment. I have struggled with these issues all my adult life. Don Henley’s song, “For My Wedding” says it all:

"For my wedding, I will dress in black
And never again will I look back
Ah, my dark angels we must part
For I've made a sanctuary of my heart

To want what I have
To take what I'm given with grace
For this I pray
On my wedding day

For my wedding, I don't want violins
Or sentimental songs about thick and thin
I want a moment of silence and a moment of prayer
For the love we'll need to make it in the world out there

To want what I have
To take what I'm given with grace
For this I pray
On my wedding day
On my wedding day

I dream, and my dreams are all glory and light
That's what I've wanted for my life
And if it hasn't always been that way
Well, I can dream and I can pray
On my wedding day

So what makes us any different from all the others
Who have tried and failed before us
Maybe nothing, maybe nothing at all
But I pray we're the lucky ones; I pray we never fall

To want what we have
To take what we're given with grace
For these things I pray
On my wedding day
On my wedding day"

Want what you have.

Take what you're given with grace.

For these things let’s pray.

Content New Year.

Embraced by the brackets -

(b)

PS – Thanks, Jim.