I just spent the last hour distracted by myself -- reading old posts on my blog. I have been blogging for 3 years now (a hearty thank you for those few of you who have continued reading) and it's been interesting to notice changing perspectives, repeated themes...and jokes, and to remember what life was like before I promptly forgot all the minor details.
Several years go, when I still loved reading but hated writing, I was a very sad girl...naturally. I woke up a lot of mornings choosing to have a bad day and would firmly resist all efforts to cheer me up. I saw these efforts as false and superficial. Happiness meant vulnerability. Hope meant inevitable disappointment.
I have since realized what a terrible way this is to live -- in constant discouragement because of potential despair. Such a half life. Such a dreary life.
Lately, I've been thinking about a passage from Les Miserables. I think about it often enough that I have sought to commit it to memory. Victor Hugo begins his 1200 page novel with a chapter entitled "A Just Man" - a description of a bishop. Monsieur Charles-Francois-Bienvenu Myriel. About Monsieur Myriel, Hugo says many things but this, I think, is one of the most profound:
Several years go, when I still loved reading but hated writing, I was a very sad girl...naturally. I woke up a lot of mornings choosing to have a bad day and would firmly resist all efforts to cheer me up. I saw these efforts as false and superficial. Happiness meant vulnerability. Hope meant inevitable disappointment.
I have since realized what a terrible way this is to live -- in constant discouragement because of potential despair. Such a half life. Such a dreary life.
Lately, I've been thinking about a passage from Les Miserables. I think about it often enough that I have sought to commit it to memory. Victor Hugo begins his 1200 page novel with a chapter entitled "A Just Man" - a description of a bishop. Monsieur Charles-Francois-Bienvenu Myriel. About Monsieur Myriel, Hugo says many things but this, I think, is one of the most profound:
"He did not seek to efface pain in forgetfulness, he sought to elevate it and to dignify it with hope...to transform the grief that gazes on the freshly dug grave by showing it the grief that gazes up at a star."
Hope is not an empty promise. It is not naive. It is light and solace and deliverance.
I don't quite know how to do what Hugo is talking about - not for you, not really for me - but I've tried it both ways and so far, choosing happiness is better.
5 comments:
It's OK to be vulnerable to some degree. Without pain and disappointment we wouldn't be motivated to change and improve our lot in life, all the while being aware of but not concentrating solely on our weaknesses. Hope drives us forward while we savor that with which we are blessed, rather than rueing that we don't yet have. Love you. You are one of my most cherished blessings.
Favorite daughter status! ...this is one of my parents, isn't it?
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rue...a fantastic word...
Busted.
i was thinking about something similar this morning during my positive parenting class. our teacher was talking about the kind of people that choose to be complainers. how they enjoy complaining and make it a part of their every day life. they want attention from it, etc. it really hit me that i can be one of those people, and it's something i've tried to fight for a long time. you're right; being optimistic can sometimes make us feel vulnerable. but better to be optimistic and vulnerable than pessimistic and boring.
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