Joy Cometh in the Morning...

Boy. Last night I was pissed off. I had been breathing the suffering of women who aren't safe in their own homes with their own husbands. I was breathing in the suffering of the lonely, the cold, the homeless, the forsaken and forgotten. I kept breathing out safety, comfort, companionship, but at the core of it I found myself just getting mad. Mad that people suffer at all. Mad that I even felt compelled to connect with those who suffer. Misery loves company, right? No. I desperately wanted to be the only one who felt sad, lonely, mistreated or who had gotten the short end of the stick. I meditated a while and when I felt at my lowest I prayed.

I prayed an angry prayer. Not just on my behalf, but on everyone's behalf. What's with all the misery? Can't well all just get a break? Some peace? Something.

And then about mid-prayer, it hit me how ungrateful I felt and sounded. That's what suffering really is ultimately. Even when someone is in a legitimately tough situation, prolonged suffering really boils down to ingratitude. Maybe it's because my life is so good that I can't imagine clinging to my feelings of romantic inadequacy or loneliness or whatever it is that keeps men at bay. Or that sure, I only have a small amount of money, but my life is better than it is bad. And it's amusing to me that one act of rudeness spiraled into a three hour ordeal of nearly overwhelming sorrow. Hopelessness for a suffering world. I stayed with my gripe and prayed until I could no longer taste the bitterness in my mouth. I slept hard and dreamed weird dreams. I dreamed of weird little creatures I'd never seen before. They gave me balloons and wanted to hug me, but they were torturing others. It was strange, yet I felt perfectly safe.

I woke up lazily and groggy and was loathe to get up and do anything. I was invited to a playing workshop. Reluctantly, I got up and dressed and unzipped the door and headed out. Oh yes, not before reading Job. I read some of God's admonition to Job and then Job's response. I felt lighter. Suffering had meaning whether or not I gave it any. Nor could I really measure or know the extent of someone else's suffering. All I could do was my very best to alleviate the suffering of the world and be grateful for what I have in life. Or alleviate the suffering by being grateful. At any rate, I walked into the workshop where there were quotations on joy. We played for an hour and then did an hour of Laughter Yoga. I laughed for an hour. For no reason. Other than because I could. The loneliness went away and did the bitterness as did the stress of the tonglen practice. I even did it sponteanously during the silent meditation portion of the yoga session. It's pretty outside and I must go play outside until it's time to stop.

Again, I say that being a human being is a hoot. So angry one minute. Laughing to the point of serious fatigue the next. Baruch Hashem for making us the way we are.