Chasing Delight
Like I’m a cat and it’s a dadgum butterfly
“I like to play pickleball?” I told my therapist when she asked me what I do to “access my delight.” We were talking about my current state of malaise. I had to think for a minute before I answered.
”Does pickleball delight you?” She asked.
”I mean, I guess?” I said, thinking about my forehand. How I used to have a down the line zinger that delighted me back in the day. How the zinger often sails out now.
She switched tactics. “What about music? Is there a song on your playlist that delights you?”
”I mostly listen to podcasts now. Or audiobooks.”
She looked at me. Stodgy, fusty, square as a Frigidaire Lindsey, who seemed to have misplaced her smile.
”But I mean I like music, a lot. How about this: I’ll put music on when I leave here,” I said. It registered that it sounded like I was doing it for her. It felt like that too, like my pleaser instinct was stepping in to fix things.
”Put on a song that delights you,” she said.
”Yes. One isn’t coming to mind, but it will.”
Some seasons register lower on the delight meter than others, and for me, this is one of them. Loss, chaos, and general overwhelm are in the house. Yet still, this frustrates me. What a first world issue, this losing one’s delight. I live in San Diego, for cry eye! I’m healthy! I’m loved! This simply cannot be.
”Sometimes delight can be as simple as a wiggle,” she said.
”A what?”
”You know, when you stand up from a chair and do a little wiggle.”
Please don’t ask me to wiggle today, I thought. When I stand up I will want to ragdoll: bend in half, grab my elbows, and rock slowly back and forth like a tired metronome. Maybe hang like that for a minute. Or an hour.
But then my reluctance to wiggle made me mad. What is wrong with me? I invented the freaking wiggle! I was in a flash mob for seven years! I carried a karaoke microphone in my car lest I felt a song coming on! I wore fake teeth to public spaces to scare my friends! I have more delight than can fit in cockadoodey Wembley stadium! Correction: had.
She could see my inner tumult. Possibly noted my sag. “Or you could lay down at the beach, feel the sun on your skin, and rest your head in the sand.”
A flood of the reasons that wouldn’t happen immediately rushed into my head: sandseaweedfliessunwrinklesparkingcrowdedsandsandsand. But I just sat there, attempting to look thoughtful, as though it were a possibility. This pleaser thing is no joke.
”Find a little delight,” she finally said in her ‘that’s a wrap’ voice. ”Doesn’t have to be a whole day. Start with a moment and work up.”
”Do pets count? My cats are maniacs and mostly delightful.”
She looked up from her notes and, patient teacher to obstinate kindergartner, said, ”Be the delightful maniac. Just for a moment.”
I could barely suppress my delightless sigh as I accepted my wiggly, sandy-haired assignment for a state of being that used to come naturally. Find the thing I had in spades. You got it. But do I?
I’ll report back on this. In the meantime I’ll be over here, grumbling, wondering how the dern delight slid between the doggone couch cushions and now rests between the stale chips and hair ties. Ew.
Here’s my question: When you’re in a slump, how do you reinstate your delight? Rediscover your wiggle? Share in the comments. Bonus points for pictures like this one.
I love this and I love you. Sometimes, there just isn't even a wiggle in you. But I will tell you a story about once when a wiggle helped me. I was in the car, driving to Maine by myself. I don't remember how many days stretched ahead of me to spend there, but I was on my way. About an hour out of my driveway, I felt a sudden familiar twinge in the base of my spine. "Oh, no!" I said out loud to my wonky back. "You will NOT go out on me this trip!" And I imagined the developing pain bursting into bubbles and I started to wiggle them away from the threatening spot. Just sitting in my car, driving to Maine, wiggling my behind as if I couldn't wait for the next rest stop. And it worked! I wiggled those pain bubbles away and out of my body and was able to finish the drive and enjoy my stay. Wiggle when you can, that's all I've gotta say. xo
When I'm feeling down I go to the nursery and buy colorful plants for my garden. That brightens my mood and day!