Café Discovery: Feelings

The other night Debbie asked me to tell her when were the happy times in my life.  Was I ever happy?

I told her that, contrary to any outward appearances or to what other people have believed about me, I spend most of my time happy–in my understanding of the word–because I continue to hold out hope that the world will get better and that I have tried to do what I can to help in that process.  But I also told her that I get disappointed a lot about the fact that the happiness I have felt has seemed to end up misplaced, that the world has not usually become a better place, no matter what efforts I may make.  

That brings me sadness and I don’t like being sad.  In the past I have looked for what I can change to eliminate that sadness.  What can I do to regain that happiness, even if it has a false face?

Admitting to myself that what I have been doing has failed, that it hasn’t resulted in what I have desired, even if it is valued by others, is the usual first step.

I don’t like being a failure at what I endeavor, but an honest evaluation of my life would display that I have consistently been one.  

Etymologies are from the Online Etymology Dictionary.


happy

From 1340, “lucky,” from hap “chance, fortune” (see haphazard), sense of “very glad” first recorded c.1390. Happy replaced the O.E. eadig (from ead “wealth, riches”) and gesælig, which has become the word “silly.” O.E. bliðe “happy” survives as “blithe.” From Greek to Irish, a great majority of the European words for “happy” at first meant “lucky.”  Welsh is the exception, where the word used first meant “wise.”

Used in World War II and after as a suffix (e.g. bomb-happy, flak-happy) expressing “dazed or frazzled from stress.” Happiness is first recorded 1530. Happy hour “early evening period of discount drinks and free hors-d’oeuvres at a bar” is first recorded 1961. Happy-go-lucky is from 1672. Happy as a clam (1636) was originally happy as a clam in the mud at high tide, when it can’t be dug up and eaten.

Happy clams are apparently clams which aren’t consumed.  I rather think I’d be happier if what I shared was consumed.  Lately I’m feeling neither lucky, nor particularly wise.

sad

O.E. sæd “sated,” from P.Gmc. *sathaz (cf. O.N. saðr, M.Du. sat, Du. zad, O.H.G. sat, Ger. satt, Goth. saþs “satiated”), from PIE *seto− (cf. Latin satis “enough, sufficient,” O.C.S. sytu, Lith. sotus, O.Ir. saith “satiety”), from base *sa− “satisfied” (cf. Sanskrit, a-sinvan “insatiable”).

Sense development seems to have passed through a meaning “heavy,” and “weary, tired of” before emerging c.1300 as “unhappy.” An alternate course would be through “steadfast, firm,” and “serious” to “grave.” In the main modern sense, it replaced O.E. unrot, negative of rot “cheerful, glad.”

Slang sense of “inferior, pathetic” is from 1899; sad sack is 1920s, popularized by World War II armed forces (specifically by cartoon character invented by Sgt. George Baker, 1942, and published in U.S. Armed Forces magazine “Yank”), probably a euphemistic shortening of common military slang phrase sad sack of shit. The verb sadden “to make sorrowful” is from 1600; earlier form was sade, from O.E. sadian.

I should be satisfied, but I seem not to be.  Here I’ve been given space on the front page and all.  But I feel like the purloined letter, hiding in plain sight.

I don’t know, Sparks. But I guess I’d say if it is just us…seems like an awful waste of space.

I have thought I was being steadfast and firm, but wonder if I’ve just been spending my time being pathetic, an inferior, vaguely human life form, easily dismissed via use of the phrase “single issue,” interested more in cosmetic changes than depth.  I’ve rather thought in the past that it was sort of a canary in a coal mine deal:  this sort of denial of rights and discriminatory treatment could happen to you.

My mistake lately is pointing this out to some of you while it actually was happening.  I was sort of interpreting it as a solidarity thing:  welcome to the ranks of second- and third-class citizenry.  I was hoping to generate some empathy.  Clearly that failed.

So I wrote about diversity and empathy and clearly that was just single issue stuff as well, not worth the time and effort to read.  I understand.  People have more important things to do.

All of which makes me wonder what I am doing here taking up that space and wasting whatever value it has.  And I wonder if the time and effort spend to produce what I do for this place shouldn’t be better spent performing other tasks, since much of what I say seems to remain mostly misunderstood anyway.  Is it worth the constant emotional investment I have to make to provide these pieces?

I guess that’s something I need to figure out.  Sometimes I have to acknowledge that I’m the one who is out of tune and let other play on without my discordant notes.  And sometimes it seems the only way to avoid the discordant notes is to play the part of The Fool, the amusing lunatic kept around for entertainment purposes.

From wikipedia:

The Fool is the spirit in search of experience.  He represents the mystical cleverness bereft of reason within us, the childlike ability to tune into the inner workings of the world.  The sun shining behind him represents the divine nature of the Fool’s wisdom and exuberence.  On his back are all the possessions he might need.  In his hand there is a flower, showing his appreciation of beauty.  He is frequently accompanied by a dog, sometimes seen as his animal desires, sometimes as the call of the “real world”, nipping at his heels and distracting him.  He is seemingly unconcerned that he is standing on a precipice, apparently about to leap, engaged in the supremest act of idiocy or trust.

The number 0 is a perfect significator for the Fool, which can become anything when he reaches his destination.  Zero plus anything equals the same thing.  Zero times anything equals zero.   Zero is nothing, a lack of hard substance, and as such it may reflect a non-issue or lack of cohesiveness for the subject at hand.

That’s not how I wish to be remembered.

A little song, a little dance, a little seltzer down your pants.

–Chuckles the Clown

I grab a line fron NL’s piece this morning (Durga pierces the heart, a quote from China Galland:

I want to write about what is beautiful, about how wisdom – the principle of enlightenment – is within each one of us, about how it is unavoidable.

Doubt has arisen about whether I can do that here.  I have been trying.  But I feel like I have been failing.

So many are busy with so many other, much more important things.  For my own happiness, and probably theirs, perhaps I need to stop being a distraction.

It is worth my time to think about.

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    • Robyn on June 22, 2008 at 20:04
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    But I feel like I have been failing.

    I fully expect that the same few people who do notice my offerings from time to time to disagree with that assessment.  So I’ll quote myself from yesterday:

    Here I preach to that part of the choir…

    …which deigns to show up.  And when I speak my mind about other issues, sometimes my feelings get dismissed and/or my opinions discounted, often by that very same choir, leading me to wonder if preaching to the choir has become a waste of my efforts, if some people just believe in “humoring” me.  Currently I am not in good humor.

    …and today:

    Sometimes people’s words…

    …pick up baggage from my past on their way to me.  I am confident they don’t intend for me to feel the way I do, that my own failings come into play.

    And my own failings are what I have to deal with.

    I am changed by everything I read.  It’s a blessing…and a curse…that I never forget what I read.  Words flow in and never leave.  Different words sometimes flow out.

    Everyone is changed.  But the change is not always what was intended or hoped for.

    Thanks for reading, if you have.  I appreciate it.

    Now go change the world.

    Robyn

    PS:  It is thunderstorming here, so I may be here only intermittently.

    • RiaD on June 22, 2008 at 20:28

    i’m so sorry.

    i don’t know what to do to help…or if i’m part of the problem 🙁

    lately i’ve felt very out-of-tune with those here….

    it’s not anything but my interests have shifted i think….my heart is outside, growing things…trying to get me & mrD on an even keel. so while i still stop in 2-3 times daily, i don’t syay for hours & hours~ just read & pony-up….

    i’m not real sure what happened here….i would miss you horribly if you left, you’re like the anchor here, that i can always find….

    • Alma on June 22, 2008 at 20:43

    I think you see yourself so much differently than I do.

    I don’t see how anyone could see you as The Fool.  Not ever.

    You expect more from yourself than anyone could ever accomplish.  I think a lot of people here are like that.  We want to change things so much, and think we should be able to do it on our own.  We need all of our ripples to effect change, and its a slow process.  Slow in building enough ripples, and slow in the ripples reaching out.

    I used to be like this:

    I never forget what I read.  Words flow in and never leave.

    Now I usually feel like this:

    inferior, pathetic

    Take a break if you must, but please don’t leave forever.

  1. but I do hear that you spend alot of your energy focused on how others react to you and what you’ve written. I can only guess that this comes from a survival mechanism that you have needed to develop.

    But for me, I say “fuck it all” if folks don’t understand or change the way I want them to. Happiness comes from my contentment with myself. And as far as I’m concerned, that starts the ripple effect.  

  2. The jester is usually wiser in the end that the court advisers who pontificate.

    Your problem is bravery: you wade into deeper water than most people and others are reluctant to follow.

    I am always out of tune myself. I never “fit in” growing up even though I appeared outwardly ordinary and I don’t now as an adult. I don’t “fit in” at work and I really only have a tiny circle of friends in RL. When I was a young teenager it bothered me, and I tried hard to  be more popular at school and failed miserably and ended up feeling worse. So I abandoned that idea.

    I hope I haven’t contributed to your discord either because I have great admiration for you but often we unintentionally hurt those we look up to forcing our expectations on them without stopping to consider the impact.

  3. that happiness was the result of living well, but not an ambition in and of itself.  Lately I have found that thought challenged, but have not abandoned it completely.  I never fit in anywhere and from a very young age came to not expect it, that seemed to offer some protection from the slings and arrows of those who seem to fit in effortlessly.  I don’t often comment on your essays mostly because my own comments always strike me as far less valuable than what you have presented.  But I read everything you post, even if I find myself more than slightly confused.  If I’m understanding you now what I should be doing is asking for clarification instead of going away to ponder on my own.

  4. Robyn, you have reached out and touched me.

    I don’t comment often in your essays, partially because I feel I have so little to contribute.  You and many other commenters in your essays are so far ahead of me intellectually.

    So, I am probably not the right person to suggest you turn from the choir analogy to another.  This place is more like a bookclub or a seminar, in which there’s a moderator of sorts and a lot of discussion.  Depending on the topic, some folks can engage substantively, some may try, others may feel so out of their element that they’re afraid to try.

    Ansel Adams famously said that one good photograph per year was about all a photographer could expect.  Doesn’t stop people (even “great ones”) from taking lots and producing multiple successes (sorry, Mr. Adams).

    Maybe you don’t want to hear this, but part of the reason I came to docudharma was to follow your writings.  I apologize for not contributing more comments: I am still catching up.    I’d be sad to see you give this up.

  5. it’s trite. it’s been said. but what the fuck.

    at least you get up every day and TRY. and that’s worth being happy. fuck the rest of it.

    so be happy. you are what you say you are. you are who you decide yourself to be.

    it’s okay to be happy. i think, and it’s both haha funny and ironic, that if we had everything we wanted, we’d be miserable.

    you’re great dame, Robyn. as well, i always find something very maternal about you. always comforting. even when i don’t agree. or find we misunderstand. but there’s a cool and v. different strength about you.

    we all benefit from your odd journey. not many people have had the opportunity to inhabit the world as you have…

    as for me, happy is having something to fight for. it’s thinking i can outlast the devil. that i am stronger than BushCo. and smarter too. i realize it’s the doing… what’s done gets awfully quiet. too still for me.

    i don’t know if i would be here now. at DD or in Holland if it wasn’t for George W. Bush. he pushed me off my nice little orbit. and into something entirely extraordinary.

  6. the highway to Garmish-Partenkirchen every hamlet was as picturesque as Santa’s village itself.  As a family we had overcome the culture shock of being removed from our mom and pop apple pie American existence and started to embrace the rich history of how other people lived, died and dealt with life in general.  We were learning how not to be the ugly Americans and I was even picking up the language enough to be idiot tourists.  I so wanted to be the parasailer we saw at the Zugspitze who landed in the parking lot, folded up his parachute and drove away.

    From that experience though we did return to an ugly America.  My instincts kept my son out of the pedophile Catholic priest scandal and realizing that we as Americans have zero control over our own destiny we resolved to have as fun fun in our lives as possible.  We must be doing something right as animals like me, kids like me and all I want to do is find out which choir leads to Armageddon.

    That plus we do have this crappy media of only words and we can’t look into each others eyes and see the sincerity of our collective hopes for a better place.

    • banger on June 23, 2008 at 18:17

    that happiness seems to come to me when I say yes to everything particularly what I don’t “like”. It’s as if all the burdens are removed. I even say yes to the fact that I like and don’t like certain things–it just doesn’t matter as much as I thought.

    Failure comes from setting up some arbitrary standard–it is something we are each responsible for. We need to set standards we can reach and then when we achieve them set new standards. I’ve noticed that most people with high ideals (myself included) just stumble when they try to “save the world” but do very well when they do one minor task at a time.

    On the other hand some people do very well with impossible to reach standards and are quite happy from the tension and pain it causes–the beauty of human beings is our seemingly endless ability to adjust.  

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