These last three days have been far more busy than I had originally anticipated. I’ve been cast in a new show, and rehearsals started this week. Choosing happy these last three days has meant taking moments to absorb the present, and simply breathe.
Monday I physically felt horrible. After the previous day of cleaning and moving, I was sore, and had a headache with admirable persistence. In between things, I took a moment to do some light yoga, specifically poses with headache reducing effects, curated conveniently from YouTube. I avoid medication when I can, not because I don’t believe in it, but because I try to live by moderation. I breathed, and stretched, and fortunately reduced my headache enough to be functional, and even eventually enjoy the day, mustering up the gumption to visit with one of my close friends in the evening to wind down.
Tuesday was Day One of rehearsals past the initial read-through, which followed a full day of work, used to its fullest extent, as my office was in preparations for our annual conference. After a full day, on my way home from the theatre, I noticed the moon, hazed with orange, a bleak reminder of the wildfires in neighboring states, ash dying the air like a macabre Holi. Walking up to my house, I looked up at the moon again, whose face had cleared by winds, now brightly white, the ash now a halo pigmented with ombre hues of red, orange and pale yellow. In spite of the sinister implications, I couldn’t help but admire the ironic beauty of the scene. It served as a reminder that we are far closer to each other than we often realize, the wreckage from miles away drifting into my local lungs.
Wednesday, another busy day at work, and another rehearsal. While driving to rehearsal in the early evening, I felt guilty for neglecting my blog, and briefly debated whether or not I would inevitably let myself down. I briefly thought about abandoning the blog, questioning whether or not I’d be able to maintain momentum, or insight, if the quality of my writing would even be worth the read. Then I remembered the initial goals of the blog, specifically the goal to combat my tendency towards perfectionism. What was I doing at that very moment? Criticizing myself for disobeying the rules I had crudely assigned for myself. Why? This exploration of happiness was meant to be fun, to help me be more conscious of my own choices. By this point, I’d noticed simply writing on a regular basis made me happier. And, making the choice to be happy each day forced me to think about my needs as a priority, not as something to put aside in favor of “more important” tasks, or to demote next to someone else’s well-being. Truthfully, remembering to even take a moment to ground myself, simply because it made me feel good, was already making a difference, even if these moments only lasted a matter of seconds.
Upon realizing that I should continue the blog, if for no one else but myself, I gazed out my driver’s window to see the edge of a rainbow, and eager for a stoplight, I took a longer look to discover it was full, framed edge to edge by my window-frame. I took this universally hopeful symbol as a sign that I had made the right decision.