June 18: Dullish Gray, Dalai Lama and Archbishop Desmond Tutu, Joy

The planet of Magrathea is . . . underwhelming . . .

Five figures wandered slowly over the blighted land.  Bits of it were dullish gray, bits of it dullish brown, the rest of it rather less interesting to look at.  It was like a dried-out marsh, now barren of all vegetation and covered with a layer of dust about an inch thick.  It was very cold.

Zaphod was clearly rather depressed about it.  He stalked off by himself and was soon lost to sight behind a slight rise in the ground.

The wind stung Arthur's eyes and ears, and the stale thin air clasped his throat.  However, the thing that was stung most was his mind.

"It's fantastic . . ." he said, and his own voice rattled his ears.  Sound carried badly in this thin atmosphere.  

"Desolate hole, if you ask me," said Ford.  "I could have more fun in a cat litter."  He felt mounting irritation.  Of all the planets in all the star systems of all the Galaxy--many wild and exotic, seething with life--didn't he just have to turn up at a dump like this after fifteen years of being a castaway?  Not even a hot-dog stand in evidence.  He stooped down and picked up a cold clod of earth, but there was nothing underneath it worth crossing thousands of light-years to look at.

So, the crew of the Heart of Gold is not happy about where they have landed.  In fact, they are depressed, stung, stale, and irritated.  All of those words do not evoke joy or excitement.  They evoke day-after-a-nuclear-apocalypse.

Currently, I'm reading a book titled The Book of Joy.  It's about the meeting of two of the most important spiritual leaders of the twentieth century--the Dalai Lama and Archbishop Desmond Tutu.  They spend a week together, discussing one specific subject:  joy.  What it is.  How to cultivate it.  How to sustain it.  How to live it. 

I can honestly say that I have reread some of the Dalai Lama's pronouncements many times  They make sense, and then they perplex me.  Tutu, on the other hand, comes from a Christian tradition, and I understand his words much quicker.

You see, I'm seeking a way to embrace joy in my life.  For the last few months (for various reasons), I've been walking around in a dullish gray/dullish brown haze.  I've had moments of joy and happiness, but depression has had a strong grip on many of my days.

Tonight, I came across this little bit of knowledge from my reading:  "There are four independent brain circuits that influence our lasting well-being"--

1. "our ability to maintain positive states"--if you can do this, you're on the road to a joyful day
2. "our ability to recover from negative states"--obviously, negativity enters your day, but being able to resist staying in that abyss is another key to joy
3. "our ability to focus and avoid mind-wandering"--this circuit involves meditation and/or prayer and the ability to avoid the niggling voices of doubt and fear
4. "our ability to be generous"--this one involves cooperation, compassion, and empathy, with yourself and everyone else you encounter

I have to admit that I struggle with the second and third circuits.  A lot.  I tend to dwell on the negative, allow it to sometimes drive the car of my life.  And I am prone to those whispers of doubt and fear.  Many times a day, I will be doing something that brings me happiness and joy, and suddenly, some part of my brain says, "Yes, but . . ."  Fill in that blank with whatever dampens the spirit and brings darkness into the light.

That is my self-revelation for this evening.  I need to work on my well-being circuits.  Need to pray and meditate more, in whatever form works for me.  Most of the time, it's writing.  Plus, I need to somehow quiet my doubts and fears and suspicions.  All of those things are related to trying to control aspects of my life over which I have no control whatsoever.

This is what I plan to do tonight to combat these negative parts of myself:

1. I will write in my journal.  Lay all of my worries on the page, and then I will let them go.  Give them up to my higher power.
2. In doing that writing, I will give those whispering voices time to say what they want on the page, and then I will close my journal and silence them.

Saint Marty craves joy in his life.  Time to take a few steps in the right direction.

A face of joy . . .