With the season of “Happy New Year” on the horizon, I’m going to acknowledge that 2014 has personally been pretty crappy.
Yes there have been good times with friends and family, hugs, yoga and ample visits to my church — the gym, but there have also been extremely dark moments, crushing decisions and lots of anxiety — plus far too many bottles of wine and hours of Netflix — in between.
That’s life.
I’ll spare you all the details, but perhaps you can relate in the spirit of personal growth that 2014 felt like my own private train wreck. We’re told to expect good years and bad years and frankly, this one can just go suck it.
Now, if you are going through a difficult time and feel like you are losing your grip (as I did) remember that there are skilled and trained people to talk to. Your doctor and/or Mental Health and Addictions Services can help you with options for counseling, wellness support groups and psychotherapy. These services are profoundly beneficial.
Thankfully, there has also been my Happy Buddha and all that he has to teach. Look closely and you might notice, his middle finger is broken, quite possibly from overuse.
This is not the Happy Buddha of my dreams. But this is the one I got. The Happy Buddha of real life.
The Happy Buddha of my dreams isn’t green or plastic. He is carved of wood or stone, smoothed, polished and probably antique. He is smiling, slightly disrobed with a cheerfully round belly and no reason to feel shame for it. All of his fingers are intact. I’ve seen many versions of the ideal Happy Buddha and he is poised, bubbly and perfect. He has the look of light and love, which I have eagerly pointed out to the universe and to anyone looking for birthday gift ideas for me.
I needed a Happy Buddha to remind me of what perfect bliss looked like. Or so I thought. But after seeking this version of contentment for so long, perhaps rigid notions of happiness are not where it’s at.
Misfortune, mistakes and crappy times shape and guide us and without them, the more fleeting happy moments wouldn’t be as sweet. So, what if we didn’t strive for classic happiness, but instead wished to be present, authentic, healthy and whole? To show up and be accepted as we truly are, riled up, warts and all?
What if, in times of trouble we didn’t slap a fake smile on, or clutch at waves of sadness or anger, but instead leaned into the strife to do the work to be whole again? Could we celebrate our imperfections even as we come unglued, the beautiful mosaic of all those broken bits?
The pressure of being happy sucks the life out of happiness. So thank you, universe, for this Happy Buddha with his busted middle finger and hopeful half-baked peace sign, who literally washed up on the beach in 2014. I am so happy I was on the sand that day, feeling like a broken shell, waiting for the inspiration to piece myself back together again.
