Wednesday 6 May 2015

Fishing for little things

Our Sages have defined suffering as reaching into your pocket,  thinking you have 10 coins, and pulling out only 5. As in, little scratches in life are no less real than the big things. A cut on your finger isn't a severed arm, but it still hurts. It's valid, it's real.
Let's do an exercise of "on the contrary". I heard Jews are really good at that.
Happiness is in the little things. If you don't train yourself to see them, you might miss the "big fish" when it comes along.
Happiness is having coffee from your favourite mug. Bitter chocolate and sweet memories.
Biting into a fresh crust of bread after a long walk.
Having food at all is a very happy thing, too.
A hot shower. Music that speeds up your heart and makes you run faster.
Finding some shade on a hot sweltering day. 
Happiness is curling up with a good book, with a night light, in a warm clean bed.
It's when you have someone to call when you're hurting.
Walking on the street with someone you love, and noticing how their step matches yours, and imagining life path ahead of you, full of big and little things to celebrate and share.
Happiness is when you wake up and nothing is hurting.
Happiness is when your little one wakes you up claiming there is a crocodile in her bed, and you start laughing so hard that she ends up laughing, too.
Stretching out on the grass, with the infinite sky above your head, and knowing that you are free.
Free to travel, study, grow, come and go as you wish. Talk and say what you think out loud - it's a free country.
It's lighting candles and thanking Him that you can thank Him. Address Him.  For the connection. For life. For the fabric woven from mitzvot and community, the smell of chala on the stairs and rogalach at the kiddush. Soap in the spring and dusty bamboo in autumn. The taste of Home.
Happiness is having a house to clean, and having people who will dirty it for you again and again. Sitting down on a Lego piece - ouch- and thinking of the little hands who left it there. And having that little hand in yours, crossing the street.
It's in knowing that the fighter jet flying over your head is piloted by an Israeli. A good Jewish boy, maybe a former student. Don't be afraid, kiddo, it's OUR army that's guarding us this time.
Happiness is looking in the mirror and realizing you've got quite a few more years left - hopefully.
It's in having hope. That things will work out, or get better, or that help will come form somewhere.
Happiness is being able to concentrate at work, and having a boss who appreciates you.
 And finally - for me - happiness is in being able to put it all into words, so it doesn't explode my heart from the inside.