Often in our lives we tend to miss the more splendid moments of life. Often because we feel so good, be don’t know we feel good, that we are happy. In our bodies as well, we miss the many thousands of seconds when we feel, only noticing when we are pain or discomfort that there were so many moments when we didn’t feel like this. I’ve always wondered about this phenomenon. So again it turn to my favorite poet to help articulate this:
So Much Happiness
by Naomi Shihab Nye, from Words under the Words
It is difficult to know what to do with so much happiness.
With sadness there is something to rub against,
a wound to tend with lotion and cloth.
When the world falls in around you, you have pieces to pick up,
something to hold in your hands, like ticket stubs or change.
But happiness floats.
It doesn’t need you to hold it down.
It doesn’t need anything.
Happiness lands on the roof of the next house, singing,
and disappears when it wants to.
You are happy either way.
Even the fact that you once lived in a peaceful tree house
and now live over a quarry of noise and dust
cannot make you unhappy.
Everything has a life of its own,
it too could wake up filled with possibilities
of coffee cake and ripe peaches
, and love even the floor which needs to be swept,
the soiled linens and scratched records…..
Since there is no place large enough
to contain so much happiness,
you shrug, you raise your hands, and it flows out of you
into everything you touch. You are not responsible.
You take no credit, as the night sky takes no credit
for the moon, but continues to hold it, and share it,
and in that way, be known.