So, yes, “Misery does like company…”
And it does seem to put a stranglehold on all that is light…
When misery sets in, it is far too much trouble to even try to rise for the occasion. So why even bother? To try means that it might not happen and failure could then tease Mr. Misery into hanging his hat up, in the closet, where it becomes a fixture collecting dust mites that leap into the brain and settle in.
Misery is far too demanding, once it sets up home, to even think about switching channels. It makes us couch potatoes, sculpting us with Buddha Bellies. And there we lie and lay: Hey! I’m stretched out doing nothing, going nowhere, everything bothers me anyway so who cares, anyway even? It’s just that I know that the there and then won’t be any better than the here and now anyway. We all know that the world sucks, anyway, and then we die, so hey, be in no hurry to change, anyway…
Even if someone of whose company you don’t like – meaning their ray of sunshine did not drown from your bucket of sorrow – nudges Ms. Misery towards the light, head but-ting is the only dance offered: But you don’t understand. But surely you don’t feel that way. But what if this happens? But it’s just not going to work out. But what if I fall off the edge of a cliff? But what if a monster tries to eat me? But I just c-a-a-a-n’t…
Misery attacks the smells and noises that come out of you. It grips your throat and causes your eyes to cry and voice to whimper and then rage. It hardens your muscles and stiffens your back. Misery has more anger hidden deep within it than sadness. Doses of injustice, life’s not fair beliefs, and even paranoia weave in and out – it’s not paranoia when they really are out to get ya’ – got cha’…
Misery, that way-down-deep-locked-in-the-dungeon syndrome, needs chiseling to even begin to fracture. Get the crusty old armor a little cleaned up first. Those first steps with the head finally up enough to make eye contact, well, they usually are taken with impossible expectations and assumptions, designed to be shot down: impossible illusions…
And that destroyer of misery laser beam that comes next from the outside, well, it fries Mr. Misery into hiding. There’s a moment or two, possibly a day or two, at the most a week or two before the pitbull of misery grabs your ass once again. Hey! Just don’t let this routine get you up: Just stay on down in the gutter as long as your misery allows you to tie a knot and hang on. Swinging in the breeze is at least a wee bit more interesting than wearing cement underwear.
So now we’re in the flapping stage where we do the I’m in/ I’m not in, I’m here/ I’m not here, I want/ I don’t want, I am/ I am not, push/pull, go/stop over and over again until we even bore ourselves stiff and run off all the other dancing beams of light. And it’s here in this darkened state where we can still see the stars but can’t touch them that gets us thinking about building a rocket ship.
However, for now, it is time to swing your way a little further ahead of where you were tied and gagged. Whenever you get the opening, swing out a little further. Dust yourself off and try a different type of swing. And when you just can’t stay on the little edge of knottiness, leap and roll. Yes! Don’t forget to ease right into that fall you are guaranteed to have. Don’t stiffen up now or you’ll hurt things that you weren’t even aware of before…
Dust off as you rise up, and dance a little jig. It’s now safe to feel a pinch of happiness, a dusting of joy. Don’t get carried away. Up one moment and down the next is the challenge of a lifetime: to stay balanced, to feel even, to enjoy each and every moment. We’re not there yet. Nope! And don’t make those silly promises that reek of self-deception: I’m done with misery and the habits that feed it. Don’t kid yourself, for those miserable thought demons are just starting to come out of the wood work…
Meet them, greet them, interact with them, play with them. “Hello, I’ll never find a job in this recession.” Why are you here? Where did you come from? And where can I send you next? I think I’ll just propel you into another world because you are no longer of value in this one. Oh my, here you are my “You ain’t graceful, just a clumsy ox, never have been, never will be”. You are here to keep me powerless so others can look down their noses. OH? You actually came from “the others”. You are not mine! So, I’ll just dance into another world because I don’t believe you any more…
Keep your sleeves rolled up and your head in the game. That rocket blaster is built with each and every smile, each and every laugh, each and every “I did it!” that escapes the clutches of the old crusty Mr. or Ms. Misery. Each and every twinkling star, each and every loving touch, each and every special moment has to be entered into and its gifts remembered.
Blast away your thought demons with jolly juice and you’ll naturally give that which you received. The cycle of misery chiseled and wiped, stared down, given into, meeted and greeted, played with and then set aside, opens you to infinite possibilities, delicious delights, and love that lifts and tingles. The best kept secret? Misery doesn’t exist when you are dancing in the light…
This article was originally published in my free electronic book of “essays” about Living Love, Daring The Dark, Bestowing Birth, and Celebrating Compassionately. It is “A Soul’s View of the World”. If you would like a free copy, just let me know your e-mail address…
