A Letter to my Children, A Reminder to Myself and Joy of the Day, 11/6/24

When I woke this morning, the day after Election Day, I took a couple deep breaths and reached for my phone. Slowly I waded back into the social media places that have been so hot with spite over the last few months, wondering whether I might find there the sort of calm that comes after a storm—when a thing has been decided and its energy spun out. But no, there they were, the same furious people, still spitting unspent venom into the void. It struck me then just how powerful a thing hatred can be.

Hate is a lazy power. It does not think straight or even try to, but tears things down and lashes out, inconsiderate, unthinking and without regard for collateral damage. It is self-centered and insecure. It is the child who, in an angry flash, makes the choice to send another's carefully constructed tower of blocks crashing down to the floor.

If hate is the poison then love is the antidote. Love, too, is an extraordinary power, but is neither lazy nor careless. It is patient, resilient and deliberate. It is the power of resurrection. Love is the child who, seeing her first effort demolished, already imagines a new tower, maybe one even sturdier than the last. Love is the power that gathers up all the blocks from where they lay scattered and starts to rebuild.

Many years ago, I read a book written by Earnest Hemingway called The Sun Also Rises. It's a book about trying and failing but then trying again to move toward and locate something—happiness—a joy that is true and lasting. The book's title comes from the Bible, from Ecclesiastes 1:5. It speaks to the fact of humanity’s cyclical existence, but also to the idea that we can depend on light to overcome darkness. Love, I believe, will always prevail as the strongest power and push us toward joy; there is something beautiful in us that, when we listen, whispers to our hearts to begin again.

It's no accident that today the New York Times ran an article, updated from when it was first published in August, called Building the Happiness Muscle, written by Jenny Taitz, who is a clinical psychologist and psychiatry professor at UCLA. Finding joy, according to Taitz, is a proactive exercise that takes practice and work. When it comes to being happy, she explains, the key is to actively call up and reinforce our joy, even as we try to minimize our pain, clear our minds and clean up our messes. Our happiness requires that we devote energy to building up a brand new block tower.

And that energy—that muscle—that power—is love.

This morning, the sun rose. It rose shining, nudging me: do not squander this gift of a clear November day. I met dear friends outside and hiked up the same forested trail I've hiked so many times before, up into the open meadow where I breathed deeply and took pictures of a spectacular, limitless sky.

Today the risen sun and the chance to stretch my happiness muscle are my joy.❤️