The glint in the ore

Monday after supper I headed to the Red Brick Café and spent an ecstatic 90 minutes reviewing and revising some poems. The writers' circle has been on my case to stop just writing stuff and actually send something for publication. My friend Marion was the first to remark that I continually avoid that part, then Ashley chimed in. Under their blessed pressure, I set a goal for July to get something ready and actually submit it. My homework for last night's meeting was to write something, or find something old, and bring it for critique with a view to fulfilling that goal. So I did my homework.

I love revising! There is a deep sense of pleasure in mining and refining the ore in raw material previously written.

Back home, after calling Danny, I noticed there was a message from my friend, Lori. So I called her. She wanted to go out. So guess what? At 9:30 on a work night I went out! We picked up sushi and went to the grocery store. It reminded me of how Sylvie and I used to go grocery shopping together.

With all my family living at a distance, I have an unhealthy tendency to overlook my need for significant local relationships. Recent distress has alerted me again to this problem. Lori's call was super timely. I needed that. I was home by 10:30.

It was a happy evening.

Happiness is elusive and ephemeral. Society influences us to believe that if we're not happy most of the time, something is wrong. That is false. I'm living to learn that unpleasant feelings like anger, fear and sadness—just the effort to get up in the morning and go to work—are common and natural. We lose. We grieve. We struggle to move on.

Along with the bad programming comes the notion that if my happiness is momentary, it isn't real happiness. This also is false. Those moments make everything else worthwhile. They are to be cherished and honoured. The more flecks of joy we can find in mundane activities, the better. To the best of our ability, we should plan and look forward to them. We must work hard. Surrounding that crystal goodness, expect the rough matrix of life to be hard slugging.